“Take it off,” I growl the words into the warmth of his mouth, taking the opportunity to trace my fingertips up the bottom of Trey’s shirt. My palms flattening against the heated skin of his lower back.
I start scraping, clawing—when I say he’s like an itch to me, I mean it. And I’m hell bent on scratching the hell out of it. I wrestle with the soft material around his waist, desperate to see if the abs match the fucking washboard I’ve been picturing in my head.
He pulls the door shut, and I reach with my other hand—the one not currently fondling his well-defined obliques—to flip the switches. More than ready for another switch to flip. That’s right. We are going lights on for this ordeal.
“God,” he mumbles, swiftly locking the door to the small hallway bathroom. Setting me down on the white marble of the vanity, goosebumps sprouting on my bare legs from the cold. “You really are like a guy,” Trey says, briefly breaking the lavish mouth to mouth that’s taken place since we got about ten steps from our apparent make-out room of choice.
“I’m sorry... what!?” I press a palm against his chest, leaning back so my head hits the mirror above the sink. “Ow!” I instinctively rub my skull with my other hand. “I’m like a guy? Your dick is hard between my legs, your tongue was just in my mouth, and you feel like that’s a super sexy thing to say?” I glower at him. Not really because of what he said, even though that’s annoying, but mostly because that mirror packed a thud.
“I’m... I didn’t mean... sorry.” He frowns, dropping his hands from my body, resting them on either side of me, on the edge of the counter. “I just meant because you’re so forward. And just the stuff you—”
“Women can’t be forward?”
“No, that’s... that’s not what I was saying...”
“So, what are you saying?”
I bite down on my lip. Watching his eyes—which look so much brighter compared to his nicely tanned skin—travel side to side. Treys cheeks, under his dark facial hair, changing to a lovely little shade of pink.
I’m enjoying this. I know it’s not right, but something about him is so innocent, so pure. I like him all flustered and shit.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” He steps away from me, throwing his hands up before rubbing the back of his neck. An apologetic frown on his lips.
How many women has this guy actually been with? He seems so unsure, totally lacking in confidence, and there’s no fucking reason. If I were him, I’d be rocking what I got.
“Trey.” My eyes search his. “Do you really wanna do this?” I ask him. The sexy loose waves on the top of his head moving as he eagerly nods. “You seem so—”
“Nervous,” he interrupts, exhaling a long breath. “I am.”
“Why?” My voice comes out in a whisper. Despite the fact that I flipped the switch to make the exhaust fan come to life with a low hum. Still, we aren’t too far from—
“Have you seen you!?” he blurts out, standing straight up in front of me, taking another step backwards.
“Have you seen you?" I counter, looking him up and down before finally drifting back to his face, landing on those jade eyes.
“You’re really intimidating.” He runs his fingers through his locks, letting out a long breath. “You’re just so—”
Oh my God, this guy is so sweet! However, someone needs to give Trey his groove back. I vote me!
“You are hot. Like full on, sex God status. But I need you to chill the fuck out.” He nods in agreement. Leaning forward, I grip the bottom of his shirt, twisting it in my fist before pulling him to me.
He steadies himself between my legs—perfect location. But there’s some sort of inner battle there. Maybe it’s Chaz, maybe his ex? The look in his eyes, his dilated pupils, oh yeah, and his—rock solid and heavily printed against his jeans—disco stick, is telling me something else.
And now I have Lady Gaga in my head.
Placing a palm on the soft material covering his chest, I feel his heart rattling, wildly. He swallows a few times, biting excessively on his bottom lip. This isn’t like anything I’ve ever been used to. Having someone who seems nervous... around me... I’m awkward as fuck.
“You’re hot, I’m hot,” I say the words with a gentle laugh. “So let’s get hot, alright? But so help me, if you keep acting fucking weird, I’m gonna—”
He doesn’t miss a beat. His fingertips dig into my waist as he yanks me to the edge of the counter. That’s what I’m talking about. Pressing himself against me in a rhythmic motion, hitting dead center—bullseye. I let out a breathy moan as he claims my lips with his, muffling any evidence of this second secretive bathroom—hopefully—bash. My arms wrap tight around Trey’s neck, pulling him harder to me. Our mouths going completely wild, tongues dancing, grinding against each other’s.
His hands slip underneath the extremely thin shirt I have on, gliding up, the pressure of his rough palms makes me arch my back, he definitely works with his hands. But wait, he owns a club, he probably doesn’t—oh, fuck it. Lemme have my fantasy.
His delicate touch teasing over my rock-hard nipples, my fingers weave into his hair, an ample amount, more than enough to hang onto. As our wild, head turning, tongue tangling kiss continues a low, and fucking loud groan rips from my throat.
We are nearing our final destination.
His hands trace down my chest, to the waist of my tiny shorts. Breaking the contact, Trey’s lips slide over to my ear, heavy breaths making me lift my hips to him. Rubbing my body against his, the perfect dose of friction making heavy, an extreme sex sounding sighs, come out from both of us. Here’s hoping. Isn’t it wild that a little air blowing in just the right spot can make everything tingly?
“You sure?” he asks, his fingers lining the bare skin under the waistband of my shorts.
“God, yes.” I lift my body from the countertop as he slowly slides down. Mere millimeters from hitting that beloved spot I’ve been craving for him to touch. Buckle your seatbelts and prep yourself for a landing.
“Bri?” Chaz’s voice calls out, muffled from just outside the door.
He immediately stops, pulling his hand from legit down my pants. Both of our chests heaving, pulses racing, bodies—at least mine—going through withdrawal from the abrupt disruption yet again.
The fuck is wrong with people!?
“Shit,” Trey breathes out as his eyes snap open in alarm, staring at me, searching my face for what to do next. As if I know!?
Also... fuck? The chances are looking less and less likely.
“Yeah?” I answer with a heavy edge of annoyance lacing my voice, after taking a few seconds to make it sound somewhat believable. Really, I sound like I just ran a marathon or some bullshit.
“What... what are you doing?” his faint voice questions, through the door.
I clench my teeth, lifting my shoulders, and try to fight back the totally frustrated laughter that wants to rush out. Why!? Trey’s green eyes grow even wider as he shakes his head.
Staring up at the ceiling, I quickly formulate a feasible plan. “Going to the bathroom,” I snap. “What do you think I’m doing?” Yes, great save, Briar. Way to nudge him off your trail.
“Did Trey... did he leave?”
The room isn’t tiny, but it’s small enough that my restroom recreation buddy can’t quite escape my reach. Wrapping my legs around his waist, ankles crossing in the back, I pull him towards me. Thank you, Shaun T, for the extra thigh power.
“Yeah”—I press my forehead to his. He attempts to mask the grin on his lips as I hold a finger up against them—“he left.”
I gotta admit, there’s something super fun about potentially getting caught. Not to mention, if Chaz said shit, it would really be the pot meeting the kettle.
“Oh... okay,” he replies.
Can he just fucking go away?!
I stare into his eyes, a brow raised over my own as he takes quick breaths in and out of his nostrils. My fingertips trace over the stubble coating his tensed jawline, lips brushing over his.
I’m gonna be real fucking honest here. This is something past Briar would’ve never done. Never! She would have also never thought in third person. Oh fucking well, here we are. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I tug him towards me, my lips sinking into his.
“Do you want me to wait up till you’re done?” Chaz asks, making me fucking groan again. “What are you—”
“Are you gonna wipe my ass?” I bark out. Pulling back from Trey’s face, who squeezes his eyes shut as I bite my lips, trying to hide the amusement. Not because the situation is funny, haha. Because it’s like sorry bitch, no fucking finish line for you. My shoulders shaking in silent laughter at the ridiculousness of this dicking disruption.
“Jesus.” Trey leans his forehead down onto my shoulder, letting out a gentle sigh. “At least use the spray,” he mutters. The soft patter of his footsteps sounds outside the door, finally walking away.
He lifts his head from nuzzling against the crook of my neck, pulling back with a frown, head shaking.
“Okay,” I say in a soft voice, palms cupping over his cheeks—his ass cheeks—trying to keep his anxiety level down, and his raging hard on... well... up. “Where were we?” I ask, biting down on my bottom lip when I see his eyes fall to them.
“Hey, Bri?” Chaz says in a softer voice and I scrunch my nose, eyes closing before reopening and staring out at the plain white walls of the bathroom.
“Why!?” I yell out in a frustrated groan, throwing my head back. Trey’s palm grabbing the back of it just before I’m sure it woulda hit the mirror.
“Why,” I repeat, only I mouth it, rolling my eyes. “Chaz,” I practically growl his name with a highly annoyed tone. Eyes darting to the face pulling away from mine. A frown tugging his lips, a guilty look filling his irises. “Can you please just—”
“I was wondering if you thought Trey seemed off?” he asks, from the other side of the door, apparently determined to be an interruptive douche lord.
“He knows,” Trey mouths to me.
I smirk, eyebrows creasing together with a quick, dismissive shake of my head. But shit, maybe he does... maybe he’s gonna never walk away. I thought I would have made him fuck off with the ass wiping comment; I mean, how much fouler can you get?
“Did he seem bummed out to you?”
“He seemed okay.” My lips curve to a mischievous grin. “But ya know...” I deliver a slow, hopefully seductive wink. “I haven’t really gotten”—my sights drift down to down his body, landing right below the belt—“I haven’t gotten the full feel of him, yet.”
Trey closes his eyes; silent rolls of laughter make his chest shake. Pressing his cheek to mine, he lets out a long, quiet breath. And just when I finally get him to relax...
“His ex was such a bitch,” Chaz says. My hands firm on Trey’s waist, feeling his body tense under my grasp. “No one was surprised. He’s too good of a guy. She fucked with—”
Ladies and gentlemen... This is your captain speaking.
“He was way too into her. It was obvious she didn’t feel the same.”
Trey’s head jerks up. The look of pain obvious in his eyes before he closes them with a heartbreaking frown.
“No one liked her.”
Fuck! He definitely doesn’t know he’s in here with me... Chaz would never say these things. What the fuck. How awful?
Trey’s shoulders slump forward as the heavy sting of betrayal lines his face. Eyes closed, shoulders slumping, head hanging.
We are going down. I repeat, we are going down.
“I’m pretty sure when she came to visit, she slept—”
“Let me shit in peace!” I rush out the words with a tone of finality, hopefully stopping the damn toilet confessions.
“Fine!” Chaz snaps back.
Trey remains silent for a few minutes before looking up at me. I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to think of anything that would be the right thing to say.
“Sorry.” He forces a soft smile onto his lips, dark lashes lining his eyes. “I think... I think it’s just not the right...”
“Timing.” I finish his sentence, lifting a shoulder as he nods slowly. “It’s her loss,” I say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. I sigh, giving him a soft smile. Kinda bummed he’s leaving tomorrow. But oh, well. “Seriously.”
And just like that... my hopes of a lavatory lap tap... crash and burn.
A/N: Let’s have some fun, this beat is sick... totally stuck in my head.
Now, now... as if anyone thought I’d give any kind of smooth landing 🤪🤪🤪 thoughts? Comments?