He tilts his head. “Are you saying you want to help?”
“I’m saying it’s only fair I get to watch.”
I reach under my dress, finally pulling the toy from my pussy. But before I can drop it into my clutch, Brooks snatches my wrist, lifts my hand. And takes the wet end of the vibrator into his mouth.
Holy. Shit.
My pussy throbs, begging for release like I didn’t violently come just minutes ago. He sucks on the pink toy with his eyes glued to me, then returns possession of my arm.
“You taste good.” It sounds like an accusation.
I’ve never felt so damn feral. “Take your fucking cock out, Brooks.”
He doesn’t even flinch. Brooks makes quick work of the buttons on his shirt until it hangs open over his sculpted torso. He yanks open the cuffs in two deft movements before reaching for his belt.
My heartbeat is in my ears. Brooks pulls out his cock and my eyes fall shut. Perfect, just like the rest of him.
“I was really hoping it was small.”
He gives a husky laugh that twists around a moan and my eyes snap open. Brooks strokes his cock in long, slow motions, gaze fixed on me. Darting over my body, my face, my breasts peeking over the top of my dress, my hips.
His attention is rapt enough to make anyone self-conscious, but it’s the last thing I feel. The power in it is intoxicating—the way Brooks presses his weight into the wall behind him as though hisstrong legs can’t carry him. The desperate gasps and deep groans as he strokes himself, the way his unblinking gaze is fixed on me.
“You like this, Pip? Seeing how hard you make me?”
I nod fast, panting like he’s touching me. Pussy gripping nothing this time. “You’re really fucking hot.”
He groans deep at that, hand moving faster over his cock. The tip beads with pre-cum I want to suck off him, tasting him the way he tasted me. His body is rigid as he works himself, abs flexed, shoulders bunched under his shirt. With a final thrust into his fist and a soft groan, Brooks throws back his head, hits the wall behind him. Paints over his fist and I wish I was touching him, feeling his stomach tense under my fingers.
I release a breath, dazed as I watch him come down. He’s… fuck, he’s a work of art, isn’t he? I’ve never laid eyes on a more gorgeous man.
Brooks’s eyes open, finding me as he works to slow his breath. Loud, happy voices echo in the hall on the other side of the closet door.
“Didn’t quite think through this location, did you?” he mutters, lifting his soaked fingers. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Biting down on a smirk, I pull him together. Tug up his pants, buckle his belt. Button his shirt. “Since you can’t do it one-handed.”
“And your mess?” He indicates his hand.
“Mine?”
“You made me hard. Made me lose my fucking mind to the point of jacking off in a coat closet at a black-tie event. So yeah, Pip. It’s your mess. What’reyougonna do with it?”
Brooks doesn’t say anything more—just lifts a single eyebrow—but my heart thumps in my ears anyway. He’s a fucking freak.
I love it.
“Ask nicely,” I whisper.
“Pippen.” Brooks licks the corner of his mouth, working a smirk off his face. He takes the back of my neck with his other hand. “Be a good girl and clean up your mess.”
I don’t know what’s become of me, become of him.
Become of this night.
Not long ago, we were throwing jabs on a sideline. And now—
I bring his hand to my mouth and clean off his fingers one after the other until there’s nothing left. He watches with his lips parted.