Eyes on Me (Salacious Players’ Club)

Mia

I wake up to the scent of Garrett and the sensation of something warm and wet against my chest and stomach. Moaning, I peel my eyes open and suddenly everything that happened last night comes crashing to the forefront of my mind.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. I’m in Garrett’s bed, and he’s currently trailing his lips down my body.

“Good morning,” he replies.

Lifting my head, I watch as he plants kisses along my thighs before gently tugging my panties down my legs, leaving me in nothing but one of his T-shirts.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and his warm breath kisses the sensitive skin between my legs, goosebumps erupting all over my body.

“Yes,” I gasp, my legs falling open for him.

Then his fingers are there, gently pulling my lips apart to get a good look at me. I love the look of appreciation in his eyes, as if he’s admiring my sex like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. He plants a soft, wet kiss against my clit, and I moan from the contact.

God, I’m so glad I decided to go to his club last night.

And that’s the only thought in my head as he runs his tongue from my ass all the way up to my clit. He does that a couple more times, until it becomes too intense. My head falls back with a whimper, my thighs shaking under his strong hold.

“No, no, no.” He growls against my sex. “Look at me, Mia. I want you watching me as I make you come.”

My breath hitches again, but I don’t take my gaze off him as he devours me. He’s not rushed or frantic, stroking my clit with slow, soft laps of his tongue. The delicate friction is enough to drive me mad.

When he picks up speed, burying his face between my legs and squeezing my thighs tightly, my body clenches in anticipation of my approaching climax.

Grasping his hair in my hands, I grind myself against his mouth. “Don’t stop, Garrett,” I cry out. “I’m almost there.”

He takes that as his cue to pick up speed and intensity, and the next thing I know, I’m riding a fierce wave of pleasure. My thighs clench around his head, and he growls loudly against me until my body starts tingling and my heart feels like it’s going to pound its way out of my chest.

But even as I come down from this high, he doesn’t stop. I’m gasping for air and squirming in his grasp while he continues to torture me with his tongue.

“Garrett, it’s too much!” I squeal, my clit so sensitive it almost hurts.

When I grab his hair to pull him away, he doesn’t budge. Finally, he pulls his mouth off my body and looks up at me. “Listen to me. As long as I’m down here, you won’t stop me, understand? This is the only place I want to be. Now, come on. You can give me one more.”

With that, he dives back in, assaulting me with his talented tongue and gifted lips. I can hardly breathe as he sucks and licks and nibbles all of my most sensitive spots. But when he slowly slips a finger into my slick heat, I swear I see stars.

The sounds that come out of me while he thrusts his finger in and out, are not anything I’ve ever heard before. Forget watching him at this point—I can barely keep my eyes open. And I’m shocked when another orgasm hits me like a bomb going off between my legs. It’s not a slow escalation, but a sudden attack of pleasure, and I let out a scream this time. My back arches and my legs tremble, and when I finally come down, I beg him to stop.

“I can’t take it anymore, Garrett! Please!”

He chuckles as he lifts up this time, wiping his mouth. “You can take it.”

Before he can drop his mouth back to my clit, I desperately pull at his shirt, bringing him down until he’s fully lying on me, and I kiss his mouth with eagerness. My legs wrap around his waist, and although I am entirely spent, I’m still hungry for his touch.

He kisses me back, grinding his hips against me, soaking the front of his pajamas with my arousal. I fumble with the drawstring, trying to get them off of him.

A moment later, he’s sliding easily into me, and it’s nothing like the climax I just felt from his tongue. It’s different and so much better. The impact of his cock pounding inside me, reaching places I didn’t know existed, giving me pleasure not even the best toy I own could find.

And I know what it is. Maybe he doesn’t want to admit it, but I know what I’m feeling when Garrett fucks me is a connection you don’t get over a webcam or with an object. This is visceral and pure.

Our eyes meet just before he comes, and I squeeze him tighter. As if this one embrace could convey to him that I don’t hate him at all. I’m not mad at him or want to fight with him. I wish I could tell him, in more words than I expressed last night, just how much he means to me.

If he knew, if he really knew, would it change anything? Would he give us a real shot or would he keep me as just a plaything? A fuck buddy? A stepsister-with-benefits?

Before he pulls out, I drag his face down to press my lips to his again, tasting myself on his mouth. And all the things I want to say are on my lips, but I leave them unspoken. If I admit my feelings to him, I’m the vulnerable one, and then what? Face the humiliation of being rejected…again.

Instead, I whisper against his mouth, “You were right.”

Confusion colors his expression. “About what?”

“Sex is relaxing,” I reply as every muscle in my body melts into the bed.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he rests his weight on me.

Eventually, he does pull out. Then he’s climbing off the bed, getting dressed, and driving me home. And just like that, things between us feel no better than they were yesterday.

“So…if I did need some help with the event,” he says, before I can climb out of the car at the house. I turn back and wait for him to finish his request.

“Yes?”

“You’ll help me?”

“How are you going to pay me?” I ask in a teasing tone.

“Come back to the club. Just give me some warning this time.”

With an eye roll, I open my car door. “Fine. I’ll text you later.”

“Fine,” he replies, smacking my ass as I climb out.

The moment I’m alone in my house, I think about Drake, and I have a strange urge to talk to him. To tell him everything, which is insane, but he knows I have feelings for Garrett. He doesn’t seem so possessive that I can’t tell him about my sex life.

I mean, he knows I can’t save myself for him. He won’t even show me his face.

Then I remember how I left things yesterday, and I guess the least I can do is apologize for the weird way I acted.

Pulling up the messages, I type one out.

I’m sorry about the weird way I acted yesterday.

He responds right away.

Don’t apologize. You were right. Are you feeling better now?

I bite my lip as I think about just how much better I’m feeling.

Yes. Much better.

Any specific reason you’re feeling so good? he asks.

We had sex last night. My stepbrother and me.

God, please don’t be mad, I pray.

I’m happy for you. How was it?

I laugh.

It was amazing. Three times and once this morning.

Is it weird that I tell you this stuff?

No. I like when you tell me this stuff. I can’t explain why.

Good, I reply. I like telling you.

Then, I put together my next text carefully, biting my bottom lip between my teeth as I do. At some point in the last few days, the scales have tipped in Garrett’s favor. Even as he dismissed me as just being something physical and tried to cut me off completely after the lake house, I still knew that it would be him over Drake.

I hope you know this means that you and I can’t really do what we used to do.

A few long minutes go by while I wait for his response. When the typing bubbles pop up, I struggle to breathe.

I’m proud of you for that decision. And I understand.

I was thinking I’d still like to send you a gift. Can I do that?

I smile at the screen, but then my smile falters. Is this wrong? To accept gifts from another man after sleeping with Garrett? I mean, in his own words, we’re just playing. It’s just physical. As long as he’s not going to commit to me, I guess that means I can still do whatever I want.

Plus, this still sort of counts as work.

Yeah. I have a PO box.

Will you send it to me, please?

So, I do. And I bite back the guilt that follows. I should really tell Garrett about this, but then I remember he never told me he owned a sex club, so fuck him. He can get over me having one pen pal. Who sends me gifts. And sometimes sees me naked.

Okay, he would be pissed, but still…he owes me. And it’s not like we’re dating for real.

Don’t worry, he says. What I’m sending you, you can use with him.

Now that has my curiosity piqued.