It pebbles with desire when it’s exposed to the air, and Brock’s heated stare. There’s something sensual about the way he brings the food to his mouth and wraps his lips around it, chewing slowly. Then he hums in apparent pleasure. “It’s good.”
“Well, I hope you’re hungry. You’ve got a lot to go before I’ll be completely naked and then I can give you your real present.”
Lust sparkles in his whiskey eyes and he takes another piece. We go on like this for another forty-five minutes, with Brock taking his time to indulge and enjoy the food.
With every piece that leaves my body, I feel more exposed and hornier. Especially when he purposely skims the chopsticks over my nipples, or trails them down my stomach. It’s divine torture.
Finally, once he’s swallowed the final piece and washed it down with some water, he takes my hand and helps me to sit up, positioning me so that I’m sitting on the table directly in front of him.
He looks up at me and pushes a hand into my hair at the side of my face. “Thank you for the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”
I smile and place my hand on his cheek, leaning down for a kiss.
Our tongues meet and I moan into the kiss, more than ready to have him inside me after being teased for almost an hour.
He cups my breast and brushes his thumb over the nipple, then pinches it and I break off the kiss, my head falling back as I gasp. Then his mouth surrounds it and the warm heat sends sensation curling into my belly.
“I like naked sushi,” he says against my breast before nipping my nipple with his teeth. “We should do it again.”
He pulls away, and I smile down at him. “You can thank my friend Lennon for that idea. I kind of stole it from her. She mentioned she might do it for her husband this year.”
Our eyes lock and we’re both silent for a beat, the unasked question hanging there between us—when will he be able to meet my friends? Although he met them briefly the night at Cole’s restaurant, he hasn’t gotten to know them as well as a boyfriend would by this time.
But then he does ask it. “Have you thought any more about outing ourselves?”
I stiffen. This is not the conversation I want to get into on Valentine’s Day, because I fear it will devolve into an argument.
“Just a little longer, I promise.”
To my surprise, he doesn’t get angry, though the frustration is evident in his face. “It doesn’t have to be the whole world who knows. We can just tell our friends and family at first if you want.”
I sigh. “I do want that. I do. But the more people who know, the more likely it is that someone will slip up. Please, Brock? Just a little longer. A month at the most.”
His eyes widen. “A month? Christ, Kels, how long has to go by until you believe in the strength of us? Believe that this is going somewhere good?”
I cup his face. “I do believe in us. I just like our bubble. I can’t help it if I’m not looking forward to the world weighing in on what this is and what it means. Not to mention what it might do to my career.”
He frowns. “I know you’re scared, but from everything you said, your boss seems like a pretty reasonable guy. Maybe you can cover a different team, or maybe he’ll keep letting you cover the Infernos, and like that, you have a man on the inside.” He smirks, making his double entendre clear.
My shoulders relax, grateful this didn’t turn into a shouting match and that he’s still able to keep his sense of humor when we’re in a disagreement. Just another sign that this man is truly special.
“Just another month? Please?” I stick my lower lip out and pout, putting my hands in front of me in prayer pose.
He huffs. “Fine. As long as you realize that at some point we’re going to have to live in the real world and all the pressures that exist there.”
I nod and wrap my arms around his neck, my nipples tightening even more when they brush up against the fabric of his shirt. “Thank you. I promise you won’t regret it. In fact…” I let one hand trail down his chest. “Why don’t I show you how thankful I am?”
I slip off the table, and with his help, force his chair back, settling on my knees in front of him.
His hands immediately dive into my hair while I work to get his belt open. “I like when my girl’s thankful.”
“I know.” I fist his cock in my hand once I have access and stroke up his length.
He groans and I know any concern about taking our relationship public is the furthest thing from his mind now.
13
Kelsey
A couple weeks later I’m over at Whitney’s place with her and Lennon—Tahlia would be here, but she’s away for a few days for business so it’s just the three of us.
I’m debating about talking to them about Brock since the extra month I requested at Valentine’s Day is less than two weeks away. I could use their advice on how to handle it. But still, part of me wants to keep this relationship for myself as long as possible.
Maybe I’ll just see how I feel as the night goes on.
“Do you want red or white?” Whitney calls out from the kitchen.
“White, please.” I point the remote at the TV, flipping through until I find the twenty-four-seven sports channel.
When Whitney invited me over tonight, I told her I could do it only on one condition—we had to leave the sports channel on because the trade deadline is drawing near.
“Here you go.” Whitney hands me a glass of wine and sits down beside me.
Lennon takes a seat in the chair to my left, beer in hand. “You’re really going to make us watch this?”
“It’s my job.” I turn down the volume to appease her. “Better?”
“Much.” She gives me an overexaggerated smile and takes a pull from her beer.
“Did you see what Mr. Jefferies was wearing the other day?” Whit asks me.
I know she’s referring to the dress shirt our boss wore to work yesterday. “Someone needs to tell him lime green isn’t his color.”
Whit chuckles and fills Lennon in on the hideous shirt.
“To each their own, I guess,” Lennon says and shrugs. She’s all about individuality. “I want to hear about Kelsey’s latest dating escapades. It’s been almost a month since I’ve seen you. Please tell me you’ve at least been on a couple of dates.”
My chest pinches. This is it. This is where I can tell them exactly what I’ve been up to.
“Not exactly.”
She sinks back dramatically into the chair. “C’mon Kels, I’m counting on you to live vicariously through now that I’m married. I want to hear about how you met someone in line at the coffee shop and snuck into the bathroom for a quickie or how you’ve been boning your camera guy the whole time you’ve worked with him.”
I screw up my face. “Jared is married. And about to retire.”
“Whatever—give me something!” She leans forward in anticipation.
Whitney comes to my defense. “Lennon, don’t be so tough on her. Not everyone is as comfortable with their sexuality as you.”
“And they don’t have to be. But look at this woman. She’s gorgeous. And stacked. And in her twenties. She should totally be getting laid. Or at the very least, dating.”