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Don't stop


“That. Was. So—” Trey mumbles, breath all sorts of ragged.

“I’m sorry.” I cut him off with a sheepish laugh. Okay, it’s not sheepish... have we met me!? I pull Trey along right behind me, full speed ahead, per my usual. As we leave the bar, several mouths hang open like gaping fish. Good. They should be. “I realize that was completely extra, but I’m me, and come on. How’d I land you? Pfft, that guy’s a complete—”

Once the door closes, he frees his hand from mine, clasping my wrist, doing that quick snap kinda move that has me spinning back to him. My body collides with his chiseled torso, and he lets out a deep growl. And trust me, it’s not like a threatening growl. This growl is good... very good.

This growl prompts an immediate response from between my legs. Trey seems to have some superpower. Like he’s got a direct line dialed into my vajay, and knows exactly how to make the call.

The look on his face, primal. His lashes hang dark and thick over his devouring gaze. The top two buttons of his shirt undone, giving me an eyeful of his defined chest while I quickly study his drool-worthy masculine frame. My heart pounds against my rib cage, matching the hammering of Trey’s as the extreme eye contact—that’s legit screaming sex—falls excruciatingly slow to my lips.

“That was so hot,” he says, in a throaty, raspy, guttural—I’m already a slick-track—voice. “So fucking sexy.” He releases the hand encircling my wrist, walking me backwards, not stopping with his stalking—he can stalk me six ways to Sunday—movements until I’m met with the brick surface behind me.

“Oh, yeah, okay,” I begin in a lighthearted kinda way. But, not gonna lie here, the insane eye contact he’s delivering, the heated breaths fanning my lips, making it feel hotter than hell on this now, mild night, probably somewhere around ten or so. My hands fall slack to my sides, one holding a double bag filled with my winnings that I’m clutching. The plastic, growing slippery in my already sweaty palm.

My breath catches, our eyes locked in on each other. The tingly sensation spreads through my body, threatening to make me combust. I’ve never felt this level of attraction, ever. I like it... a lot. And I want it to keep happening. I don’t want him to live hundreds of miles away. I wanna see him.


“Briar,” he says my name in that drawn-out, quiet way that makes me putty in his arms. “Do you have any”—his palms land on each side of my neck, thumbs tracing my jawline—”any idea exactly what you do to me?”

I gulp. Yup, sure the fuck do—gulp, I mean. “I have... I have somewhat of an idea,” I stutter.

Fuck, how ’bout that little act of karma for you. Remember when I was a shithead about the entire stutter thing, seriously on more than one occasion? Well played, Universe, well played.

Because as cool and flirty as I’d acted in there, it was for a purpose, a reason. But out here, with him gazing at me through breathtaking irises, the brush of hair feathering my face, his soulful eyes searing into mine, making me feel some kind of way. Obviously, making my thighs squeeze together. My head drifts back. The coarse surface of the building, scratching roughly against my scalp, and I don’t even care.

Also, poor Trey with the ex-girlfriend shit. I’d be a mess if I couldn’t escape certain parts of my past. But ya know, lucky fucking me. What an absolute skunt nugget to let him go.

“You have this way about you.” His fingers hook at the neckline of my—actually, his—hoodie, pulling the light blue material down, baring my collarbone that he sinks his teeth over. “I just can’t get enough.” His more than stubble surrounded mouth teases over my skin in a way that makes my knees buckle. My jaw drops open and a solid rush of air accompanies it, as that buzzy, electric, blazing sensation ignites my insides. Strong hips pin me to the wall, his hard length rubbing over me. My back arches at the contact, utterly desperate for more. “And not just your body.” He grinds into me again. “Though I really want your body right now.”

“Take it,” I reply. Take it? Yep, I said it, can’t come up with much more at this moment. What else can you say in this situation? Well, probs a bunch of things. Jump my bones. Fuck me, please. Put me out of my misery. Bang me up against this wall. Wait... that could be an idea.

A few quick things. What I’m learning—and I’m taking the accelerated version of this course—is there are all kinds of things I’m liking, that I never thought I would. Always considered myself a bit of a pillow princess in the past. But, damn. The sixty-nine, mustache ride in a childhood bedroom, all that gets things goin’ for sure. Not to mention the finger sucking.

The thing about that bit that just went down, it turned me on so much. Transported me back to that bar in New York, when—unbeknownst to me—Trey walked in. The thrill of a stranger, a bathroom bang, yeah... I’m about that life. So maybe I’m about this life, too?

Plus, not like there’s anyone out here.

His tongue lingers a fiery trail, neck to jaw. Licking is happening, and I’m cool with it. My body shudders or flutters. Maybe it purrs? I don’t even know, but I’m here for it.

And it’s not just because of the steamy over the clothes, outdoor grind-fest currently going down, or in, or on, or yeah... you get it.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” I return his question, my free hand reaching up, grasping the back of his neck as his teasing, wet—and, hells yeah—assault continues.

“I have an idea.” Lifting his head, face level with mine, a sexy smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Trey studies me in a way that makes a not-so-subtle whimper leave my mouth. His green stare heavy on mine, exuding confidence. I love that for him. It takes his entire game to a new level.

Looking to each side—when I say we are directly in front of the bar where we just left ten or so people inside, I’m deadass—Trey casts a devious brow raise at me. Prying the bag from my hand, he lowers it to the sidewalk, a warm, rugged yet soft, and large hand slipping under the bottom of my top as he stands.

“Let’s see if I’m right.” Rough fingertips span the waistline of my jeans, goosebumps erupting over my body. He yanks the button and lowers the zipper.

Okay, naughty Trey really is a good time.

“You doing that shot. Being so sure you could nail each glass. Sucking my thumb like that and saying those things in front of them. You being confident drew me straight to you.” His words rasp out as the feeling of this wild desire that’s clearly mutual overtakes us both. “It makes you even sexier than you already are.”

“You make me feel this sexy. And I meant all those things,” I say over his lips. “And doing that—” a sharp gasp escapes as Trey’s hand glides between my legs, his palm rubbing over my underwear, already soaked. “God,” I moan as he hooks a finger around the lace, pulling it aside and coating his flickering fun sticks—remember them—with my arousal.

His tongue swipes across my lips, which I want to part for him. I want to spread them as wide as my legs currently are as he teases over my heated core in a torturously calculated way, making my cheeks flush.

But this isn’t what I meant about asking him if he knew what he did to me.

Pressing a palm to his chest, Trey leans back, fast breaths puffing from his nostrils as his hand halts any movement.

Not gonna lie, I wanna whine here, because he feels so damn good, all of him. His fingers, mouth, fuck... that tongue.

The principal thing that I like, above all those things. Well, it’s him.

But in this candor... and it’s not even newfound—okay, it is—I feel like I have to say something real. No, I don’t feel like it. I want to. And while I’m scared. Petrified. I’m gonna do it. “I want more,” I say the words so fast. My eyes squeeze shut, blowing out a long breath.

Let’s be really fucking real here. I wanted to adopt this entire lifestyle. I wanted to become completely and totally uninhibited. And if I do that, it’s not just what you think it means. Yeah, sexually, sure. But if you google—and I can promise you this—it means to know what you’re gonna say, all the repercussions of it, whatev, and say it anyway.

It doesn’t mean a sharp tongue or an unfiltered mouth.

It means saying what you mean. And meaning what you say.

Ya know what? What the fuck. I’ve never done this.

But I want to.

With him.

“I want more than just this and this weekend.” I rush the words out so jumbled and quick, I honestly don’t even recognize my voice.

Trey’s head quirks to the side, a cocky smirk perking his lips, dimple deepening in his cheek. “What was that?”

“I want more.” I stare at him, unblinking, not even hesitating. His face only an inch from mine.

“You just can’t stay away from me, can you?” An easy chuckle shakes his chest as my smile grows larger, bringing me back to Chaz’s apartment when I’d said those exact words to him.

“You do things to me that no one else has. And I don’t know how anything will work, but I wanna see you again.”

He laughs, lips capturing mine in a slow kiss. His hand—that’s not currently down my pants—tips my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. I mean sure; I admitted feelings. It’s kind of implied that I wanted more, I just didn’t say it out loud.

And ya know what? It felt really fucking good, too.

“I wanna see you again,” he breathes out the words, kissing the corner of my lips. “And again.” He moves to the other side. “And again.” Trey covers my mouth with his.

Our tongues dance together in a feverish type of kiss. His hips plummet to mine as he plunges two fingers inside me, eliciting a moan into his ravaging mouth. He smiles over me as he sinks into me harder, making me cry out each time. I’m attempting to stabilize myself. Hands on his shoulders, nails digging in through his shirt.

We are outside, and this is happening. Wait, wasn’t I supposed to give him the bang of his life!?

“I’m gonna give you whatever you want,” he replies after briefly breaking the tongue-twisting, lip licking kiss. His mouth attacking my neck once more as his hand pulses, fingers curling to hit the amazing spot that makes me feel explosive. His palm rubs steadily against my clit, causing crazy loud moans to escape my throat.

“Get some, Moreau!” A drunk voice calls out. Both of us freeze, heads jerk to the side. Two of the guys, having just stumbled out from the bar. Trey retracts his hand from between my legs.

And I think I may go to hell for this next part.

Nah, let’s face it, I reserved that spot a few years ago.

I narrow my eyes at the two of them before returning my gaze to Trey. With one hand tangled in his locks, I press the other palm to his, still under my clothes.

“Don’t stop,” I say between labored breaths. His eyes grow wide as I nod in encouragement. It’s obvious enough that he’s in my pants. I catch another glimpse of the two just staring, maybe ten feet away. And I don’t give a shit.

Actually, something about them seeing this, seeing that Trey is this fucking sex God of a man, has me even more turned on.

“Your pussy feels so good,” he mutters, playing along with this entire... exhibitionist thing. Not. Hating. It. Also, woah! Way to step up to the plate!

Two long and skilled fingers return to my slick center, pumping fast, his eyes staying on mine. Whimpers and moans leave my mouth, matching his rough strokes as my hips grind over him, always wanting more. In a matter of seconds—a minute tops—he gets me right to that point, the brink, the explosive blast off. The tension builds as I twist his hair.

He thrusts faster, causing my legs to shake, hitting every spot that has hyperventilating breaths coming out so unevenly I know I’m gonna lose it. My eyes shift to the onlookers, gawking. Okay, actually thankful they aren’t taking a pic of this. Not like you can see anything. But yeah, they know what’s up. The erotic whimpers flying from me are more than enough of a telltale.

He slips a third finger in, his forehead against mine, teeth nipping my bottom lip as I make no attempt to keep it quiet, still aware of the attentive audience in my periphery.

“Come, baby,” he orders in that lusty, steam filled southern drawl, and stick a fork in me, because I. Am. Done.

I clench around him, the swirling feeling twisting the pit of my stomach. His lips crash to mine and I let go, contracting around him, reaching another glorious orgasm, at the hands—well, hand—of the incredible, talented, smart, sweet, hot, Trey Moreau.

A/N: well.... that happened lmaoooo. If you missed the implications in Ties, these two got some freak appeal! Also, this is the longest weekend ever (that I’ve written for them) So you know that means... time skips are coming.

Anyway, thoughts comments? Thanks for reading, clicking that star😘

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