Play With Me - Brittany Cournoyer Page 0,70

eyes, and I fought the urge to lean over and run my tongue along his Adam’s apple.

“I love watching you play. I can’t wait to hear which song you choose.”

“Would you like me to tell you?”

He shook his head. “No. I want to be surprised.”

“What are you doing later when we’re done here?”

Foster’s lips pursed into a smirk. “I was hoping the sexy sax player would take me home with him.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

We talked a little bit longer and then it was time for me to get back on the stage. I gave him another brief kiss and promised I’d see him during my next break.

“I’ll be here.”

“I’m counting on it.” Then I leaned over and brought my lips close to his ear so only he could hear what I was about to say next. “Because once I’m done playing with my sax, it’ll be time to play with you.”

25

Foster

I stretched under my covers and sighed. It was one a rare day I woke up in my own bed, rather than in Stellan’s arms. Since watching him play at The Tavern a few weeks prior, I spent more nights at his place than I did my own and tried to catch as many of his shows as work would allow. And the nights I had to go home, I found myself missing my knight in tattooed armor. My bed was too lonely without him, my sheets too scratchy, and even though I finally got around to getting a new pillow, I preferred resting my head on his chest. And even though I could’ve stayed with him last night, I had an afternoon appointment to tour a new apartment, so I didn’t want to be late by getting sidetracked by my sexy sax player.

I’d been combing the Internet for days searching for rentals, and even though there were a few that caught my interest, the one I found today was the most promising. I filled out the application, and then waited to hear from them while simultaneously trying not to get my hopes up. When the leasing agent called a few days later to schedule the tour, I wanted to weep in relief. Between having a secure job, my relationship with Stellan, and hopefully a pending move, things were finally falling to place for me.

My body ached as I rose to my feet—a reminder of the thorough goodbye Stellan had given me—and I made my way to the small bathroom to get a shower. I stripped my clothes and turned on the water, hopping in before it was even to a temperature of my liking since the hot water didn’t last long. But it was while I was soaping up my body, and I caught sight of the love bites on my chest, that a realization hit me, and my mind started to wander.

In the many times we’d been intimate together, from the intense sex in his bedroom, to him dropping to his knees in his kitchen and taking me into his mouth, it was always him pleasuring me. No matter how many times I tried to make him feel good, he refused. When I’d ask why, I always got the same answer.

“Seeing you come does please me.”

And while I appreciated that, and how much attention he paid to me, I wanted to reciprocate. I wanted to feel the heaviness of his cock in my hand while I took him in my mouth. I wanted to know what he tasted like. I wanted him to relinquish some of his control so I could climb him like a tree and ride him until the sun came up. I just wanted more, and I wondered if there was an underlying reason he wasn’t letting me do those things. But did I really want to open that can of worms by asking about it, or just continue as we were going and be happy with how things were?

The water started to run cold, so I shelved those questions for another time and quickly rinsed off. I was shivering by the time I stepped out and grabbed my towel to wrap it around my body and soak up the cold water that coated my skin. Once I was dry, I retreated to my bedroom and dressed in my best pair of jeans and a red, long-sleeved shirt. My hair was nearly dry by the time I stepped back into the bathroom, and after styling it off my face, splashing some cologne on