Page 47 of Eye Candy

I was about to argue—because I was always about to argue, because I was the brat he’d said I was—but then his hands were on my hips. He spun me around to face the bathroom mirror, and before I could regain equilibrium, he’d sandwiched me between his hard body and the free-standing sink. I grabbed the sides of the basin to brace myself as he leaned over me, his chest covering my back and his groin cradling my ass. His cock was hard and pressing into my flesh, a thick reminder that what I wanted was close.

Gratification bloomed in my chest, tangling with the need I’d been consumed by since Lueur. I knew this was my short-term thinking and it was going to make my life harder in the long run, but I was sick of doing what I had to. I was sick of never having a life, never prioritizing a good time with a handsome man over a rehearsal or an audition. Because in the long run, it hadn’t helped: I wasn’t a star, not even close. It had all been for nothing.

But this I could have. This was all for me. I said a little prayer of thanks to Dolly, then I gripped the sides of the basin and pushed my hips backward, trying to make him give me more.

Chase slid one hand down my belly and thrust it inside the split of my robe, cupping my pussy to still me. “Impatient brat.”

Our eyes met in the mirror. My reflection was flushed and breathless, tits out, while he was still in his robe looking annoyingly composed. I didn’t want him to look like he was about to give a keynote; I wanted him to look as desperate as I felt.

Chase started stroking my lower lips with one thick finger, parting my folds, spreading my body’s moisture around.

“Is that good?” he asked, and his voice wasn’t calm at all.

Breathlessly, I nodded.

When his hand disappeared, I protested. But he was unknotting my robe. He didn’t mess around with the sleeves, he simplypulled the loose sides of the robe up over my back. For a second I was swallowed by the fabric until it slid off over the top of my head, trapping my arms over the basin, holding me there for him.

One of Chase’s large palms cupped my shoulder and stroked down my naked side, over my ribs, waist, and down to my hip. He did this a few times, petting me, learning the story of my body. He felt the muscles of my back, strong from heavy and elaborate costumes, and my waist, scarred from aggressive tight lacing when I was a baby burly, before I invested in custom corsets that actually fit and learned how to lace them properly. He explored my rounded hip and thick thigh, every caress feeling worshipful.

After Lueur, I’d wondered if Chase’s behavior was a one-off, some kind of reactionary persona he’d never let out of the box again. Now, I was seeing this sexual side of him was as much a part of him as the straightlaced blogger. Both sides of him were true to who he was. And they made sense, a complement rather than a contradiction.

“Tell me you want to come,” he said in a low voice.

“Yes, I do,” I answered.

“Tell me you wantme.”

“I do.”

He lifted his palm and rapped my ass, one quick slap. I could snap an ostrich fan with more bite than that, but the fact he did it had me moaning.

“Tell me better than that,” he chided. “Make me believe it.”

I stared into his eyes in the mirror and summoned the words from my most elemental place. “I want you, Chase. Ever since I met you, I’ve wanted you. I know I’minadvisable, I know I’m not your type. But please, just one time. Make me feel good.”

A satisfied noise rumbled in his chest and he used the hand on my hip to pull my ass more firmly against his erection. When his pulsing thickness pressed into the split of my ass, I had to close my eyes.

Chase folded his body over mine and dropped a kiss betweenmy shoulder blades. “You should know by now, Floss. If you ask me for something, I’ll give it to you.”

He slid his other hand up my back and into my dark hair, and the Teddy wig came off in his hand—whether I hadn’t glued it down well enough or the water had made it lift, I didn’t know, but Chase was left with a handful of wig he hadn’t been expecting and my cap had slid back, revealing the pink flyaways curling around my forehead.

Chase looked surprised. “Your hair really is pink.”

I nodded.

“It suits you.” He bent over me and pressed another soft kiss beneath my ear. “Do you need a minute?”

I thought he would be furious, and losing my wig was an apt symbol for how badly I was losing my grip on this entire scam, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him to keep touching me.

“I’m good.”

With another kiss where my neck and shoulder joined, his blunt fingertips resumed their stroking, my wetness making an easy path. He was bolder now. The tease of him spreading my body’s juice along my slit and over my clit had my pussy clenching, wanting more. I was usually the seductress, the one calling the shots. Chase had me completely turned around.

The ache below my belly was now the only thing I could think about. When he nudged my knee up, I thanked Past Caroline for every single butterfly stretch I had ever done and propped one knee on the sink, completely exposing myself to him.Forhim. Being this exposed while a man was still dressed (a robe counted) might have made me feel self-conscious or cheap. But it didn’t. It felt good. I wanted to be spread like this for him; I wanted him to claim my body and let loose with me because he trusted me. I wanted it more than I could remember ever wanting anything physical in my life.

Chase placed a flat palm on the base of my spine, like he was bracing me, which made me whimper. When I didn’t think I could wait any longer, he slid one finger into my pussy and my bodyeagerly drew him in. He pushed in and out, testing my stretch before adding another finger. I was up on my tiptoes, thighs quivering, the soles of my feet feeling hot and cold at the same time. I was undignified but elated.

“More,” I demanded. “Three.”

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