Page 131 of Playing for Keeps
It’s magic, Piper had said, that little kitten anger curling her words.
They echoed in my head, hypnotizing me as I took my cock in my hand. Precome readily dripped from the head of my cock. Piper did this. Piper did all of this.
I grabbed the metal shelf in front of me too fast—whatever was on it knocked to the ground while I jerked myself off, thinking about those doe gray eyes and her lips. Those fucking pink lips, trembling under mine.
Don’t touch, Piper had whispered.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I hissed out, tightening my grip on the shelf with white knuckles.
Piper held her hand before she started cleaning up. Her skin, so goddamn soft. I wanted to touch her so bad, it hurt. And I squeezed her. I groped her. I lost my fucking mind on that couch.
I pumped my cock between my fist, just thinking about her tongue.
My shoulders shook and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
Her, inches from my face, her half-lidded eyes, her fluttering eyelashes, the way she bit her lip…
I should’ve bit her lip. I should’ve kissed her neck. I should’ve stood up and locked the door, and buried my face between her thighs, finally getting another orgasm out of her. I wanted her clenching my hair as she came on my tongue.
“Piper,” I groaned and came so hard, jagged breaths tore out of me. It spilled out to the floor and I lurched further down with each spurt of come, unable to stand steady. I had to grip the shelf to avoid sinking to the floor.
My ice princess brought me to my knees from a whole other room.
Breathing heavily, I tried to catch what I could of my breath; my sanity. That was more come than of the other times I’d ever jacked off, picturing her.
“Holy shit,” I muttered, opening my eyes. Cleaning supplies were strewn about and I’d come all over the cement floor. “God fucking dammit.”
Flipping on the lights just made it worse.
I grabbed everything I could and cleaned it up as best as I could. Which wasn’t great. My cock still hurt. I couldn’t even perform proper cleaning duties.
“Paper towels, where’s the fucking paper towels…”
I grabbed a roll of them off the top shelf and wiped up my come, fucking embarrassed.
In the training center? In a fucking storage closet?
It wasn’t like I hadn’t taken a bleacher bunny to one of the closets before but that was a lot fucking different than beating myself off in public like a fucking weirdo.
Dazed, I pulled up my pants before stumbling outside. Down the hall was a quiet bathroom with nobody else, a place where I could dispose of the evidence. And I needed to wash my hands.
I need to wash my soul.
The face in the mirror was someone I didn’t recognize.
It was me but it wasn’t.
My whole body was tense, a rubber band stretched to its ending. I actually looked like I’d been hit by a car, the bandage on my forehead only adding to it. The one Piper had given me, just like the raging hard-on she had so graciously bestowed upon me.
“Calm the fuck down,” I snarled, turning on the water. With a deep breath, I washed my hands. But that didn’t fix anything. I stared down at the sink and looked at the mirror again. “What the fuck is happening to me?”
62
Piper
Who Is We
The entire time I sat on the bleachers, I kept my knees close together and tried to figure out exactly what I could say to Adam.
