I sigh. “Not really.”
“I’m curious…”
I’m worried.
“…do you enjoy denying yourself? Get off on the withholding?”
“No,” I say incredulously. Why the fuck would anyone like feeling like this?
“Then why do you torture yourself?” he asks quietly, dipping one finger into the frigid water and swirling it around. “You know exactly what you need. And it would only take a few words.”
His eyes raise to mine, the blue of his irises practically glowing in the dimly lit room. I look away, stomach tightening.
He sighs, softer. “I’m not trying to upset you. I’m trying to figure you out.”
You know enough, thank you very much.
I blink hard, staring at my legs under the water. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try,” he says, his voice low, warm.
I swallow. “It’s easier when you just tell me what to do.”
He nods like he knew that already. “Because you want to pretend you don’t want it.”
Immediately, I open my mouth to argue, but I stop. My throat works as I give an almost imperceptible hint of a nod.
His voice drops lower. “So if I told you that you could come, but only with my cock in your throat, that would be easier than saying please?”
My breath stutters. I stare at him for probably too long before I nod again. He frowns thoughtfully.
A long, heavy silence settles between us. I feel exposed, cornered, and too damn cold, minus any of the benefits I thought this dip would give me. So I stand from the ice bath and climb out. Brody hands me my towel, still studying me intently.
He’s just going to say something like that without actually offering? Was it another taunt? A tease meant to break me down and make me beg again?
Wordlessly, Brody opens the door for me, following me into the hallway on the way back to the locker room. It’s quiet now, which means most if not everyone has headed out already. There’s a distant sound of voices getting farther away, the echo of a locker slamming, then a thump as the main doors swing shut. Water drips in the shower room. Faint music can be heard coming from the main gym, but it’s an older, calmer sound than what most of the team listens to. It could be maintenance gettingstarted on the facility. The night crews typically take care of the bathrooms and locker rooms, but it’s good to be aware someone could come in.
When we step into the locker room, Brody close on my heels, I stop short. Brody runs into my back but doesn’t pull away. He leans in slightly instead.
“You alright?”
My mouth is dry, pulse throbbing loudly in my ears.
“Can I?” I whisper.
“Can you what?” His voice is barely a rumble, something I can feel more clearly than I can hear.
I swallow. My whole body is buzzing, terrified and wanting, confused and somehow safe. It takes some mental coaxing to force the words out.
“Can I suck you?”
Saying it feels like shoving myself off a cliff. My heart leaps into my throat. My blood runs hot enough to warm my chilled skin.
Brody inhales slowly, sharply, like the words hit him somewhere deep. A hand touches my waist, and he shifts closer. I can feel his breath and his warmth and the hard proof that he wants me pressing into my ass.
“I’m so fucking proud of you using your words like that,” he murmurs.
Warmth floods through me so fast I almost sway on my feet.
