Play With Me - Brittany Cournoyer Page 0,60
hair. “What would you like to hear?”
“Whatever you want. I just want to hear you play. Just like this. No band. No bar. Just you, me, and your saxophone.”
After another quick peck to his lips, I retrieved my saxophone that was still put together, and paused for a brief moment while deciding what to play. Finally, I decided to just let my soul pick, put the instrument to my mouth, and started to play. And when my fingers started walking across the keys, I wasn’t surprised by which song came out.
My living room was soon filled with the sultry sounds of Rihanna’s Love on the Brain, and while I wanted to watch Foster’s reaction while I played, I couldn’t help but close my eyes and just feel the music flow through me. I didn’t have the other guys to back me up or a spotlight showcasing me as I played. It wasn’t a song I’d played numerous times, just something I’d toyed with a few times to see if it could even be played as a sax solo, so it wasn’t perfected. It was gritty, and so fucking raw. I wasn’t worried about messing up or hitting a wrong note. I didn’t care if my fingers slipped on the keys. None of it mattered. All I cared about was playing for my man, and that he felt every ounce of emotion I was trying to convey through my music.
By the time I blew the last note, I pulled the instrument from my mouth and stared at the floor as I sucked in some air. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I had poured my soul into that song, and I was worried to see his reaction. The silence in the room—aside from my heavy breathing and pounding heart—was deafening. Had I scared him away?
“Stellan?” I heard Foster choke out before I was knocked backward into the wall.
My saxophone was still in my hand, but I didn’t even wince when it hit the floor. Because my focus was entirely on the man who was devouring my mouth and trying to plunge his hands into my hair. I’d pulled it back, due to the fact it was a bit windy outside, and at Foster’s frustrated whimpers, I reached up to pull it loose without breaking our kiss.
My hands roamed freely over his body as I trailed them down his back to cup his ass and pull him against me. His hips rocked into mine, and I swallowed his groans as our cocks ground together. But as much as I wanted to let go and allow ourselves to get lost in the moment, I needed to make sure this next step was okay.
“Foster,” I gasped when I finally tore my mouth away. “I know I’m the one who was insisting on going slow, but I don’t think I can anymore.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Are you sure? This is a big deal, and I don’t want you to have any regrets. So, if you don’t want this to go any further, then tell me right now, and I’ll be okay with whatever you decide.”
“I do want this.”
“But we haven’t even had our discussion yet,” I reminded him.
Why I was choosing now to bring that up was lost to me. Maybe it was because I couldn’t bring myself to continue anything with him until I knew he was one hundred percent mine.
“I don’t need a discussion, Stellan. You said I’m yours, and I want to be, so what else do we need to talk about?” he asked. “Unless, you don’t want to be mine?”
I scoffed at his question. “Of course I do. But let me give you a warning, Foster. Being mine means you’re only mine. I. Don’t. Share. Ever.”
“Good, because I don’t either. Are we done talking now?”
“I’d say so. Now, where were we?” I asked.
Foster’s eyes took on a look of pure determination as he slid his hand down my chest, pausing to tweak my nipple, and I grunted as he gave the barbell pierced through it a tug. The movement went straight to my dick, making it so hard it almost hurt, and I knew the only way to get any relief was to sink inside his delicious ass—if he’d let me.
As if sensing my thoughts, Foster’s hand continued to travel south, skimming down my abdomen and over my groin until he finally cupped my bulge. My eyes closed as my body shuddered. It was the first time he’d put