Page 25 of Trick Play (Playing the Field #4)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

Zeke

Then

Maybe I’m drunk, but I’ve never seen an ass this amazing.

Okay, I’m definitely drunk.

And the ass bouncing in my face is definitely amazing. Full cheeks, partially exposed by a pair of cheeky underwear, smooth and blemish-free, and bouncing like it’s straight out of porn. Side to side. Around. One and then the other. Twerking. Fuck, this ass can do it all.

I don’t quite remember how I ended up in this situation. I’m at a house, I think. Not mine. Tahegin’s? Are we having a party? Through blurry, warping vision, I can just barely make out my teammates around me.

A team party for sure, then. And the person dancing on me is . . . I can’t recall. A stripper, maybe? Yeah, maybe someone hired a stripper. That would explain the underwear and the talented moves.

My mouth waters, and I want to put it on the voluptuous flesh in front of me.

I frown. You aren’t supposed to touch strippers, right? Damn. Where’s Micah when I wanna bury my face between a pair of cheeks?

The dancer, hands perched on the floor as he leans over to give me a delicious taunt, shifts positions, and now he’s sitting up straight. Back to me, he plants that gorgeous ass on my lap and rotates his hips in a circular motion that has my poor whiskey dick attempting to perk up.

God, how much did I drink? My head hurts just trying to think about it, but . . . that’s right. My teammate, Tank, had passed me a cup of something when I first got here. It had tasted terrible, but he’d tipped it higher and encouraged me to chug it anyway.

Ugh, no wonder my tongue tastes gross.

The man on my lap raises his hands, and the cropped sweatshirt he’s wearing lifts to reveal a strip of toned muscles. Back arching, those hands dig into a waterfall of shoulder-length purple hair as he bumps and grinds on my lap, strong thighs keeping him just barely aloft to make his movements smooth and seductive.

The haze snaps clear, and my cock finally fills because I know that hair. I know this body rubbing on me, the smooth exposed flesh—I knew that ass was perfect—and the pristinely painted nails threading through that silky dyed hair.

Micah .

Holy fucking shit. My bunny is giving me the sexiest lap dance ever, and I dared to be too intoxicated to enjoy it? Damn it.

Just as I return to a fully lucid state, the song blaring over the speakers ends. Micah slips from my lap before I can muster the thought process to try and grab him. I open my mouth, ready to ask him to keep going, though I’m not even sure why he began, when someone else beats me to it.

“My turn,” Tank announces, wiggling on the dining chair he’s dragged into the living room. A quick glance reveals I am also on one as well. “Five bucks says you can’t make a straight guy hard.”

My bunny laughs, and it drips with sex appeal. Suave and seductive, Micah sways his way toward Tank. Now that I know who he is, I take in his attire with more interest. He’s shed the pants he was wearing earlier, revealing a cheeky pair of panties that I’d be sure to ruin if we were alone. They’re so delicate, one twist of my fist would have them tearing to pieces. I know from experience. I’ve had to buy him lots of replacements these past months. The cropped hoodie he’s wearing is mine, and fuck if that isn’t an ego boost. It’s an old one from my college days that he’s taken scissors to the hem and neckline, the tan sleeves left untouched and still long enough to cover his fingertips the way he likes.

Micah says something about being worth more than five bucks—uh, fuck yeah, he is!—and teases Tank that if Tank gets hard, then he owes Micah a hefty sum. A new song starts up, the crowd cheers, and Micah gives us all the show of a lifetime.

Maybe I should be jealous? Maybe I shouldn’t enjoy watching him dance on Tank?

But I’m not. And I do.

I love watching the way his body moves, though I had no idea he could move like this . Tank being there is inconsequential because the only thing I can focus on is my sexy bunny rolling his hips and touching himself the way I want to be touching him. And the way, thankfully, Tank doesn’t touch him. I might not be as amicable to that.

I am amicable to watching, though. Even if he isn’t dancing on me anymore. That part doesn’t really bother me because of all the months he’s been around my teammates, he’s never shown any interest in them. I’m the only one who gets to touch and kiss and fuck him. Let these assholes see what I have the pleasure of having whenever I want. They’ll never get the chance.

Somehow, I get more worked up watching him dance on Tank than when he was on me. Part of that surely has to do with the fact I was near blacking out during my lap dance, but there’s something about the anticipation of this. Watching Micah seduce and lead Tank into such a state that he’s grabbing the seat of the chair to keep himself from touching what’s mine has desire coiling inside me, growing stronger and stronger with each erotic movement Micah makes.

I want him so, so, so bad. Right fucking now. I want to rip him off Tank and have my way with him, but I also want to watch the rest of his dance.

When the song ends, Micah stands and grabs the first cup thrust toward him, downing it in one go. He declares himself the winner as Tank adjusts his erection before tucking twenty bucks in the band of Micah’s underwear. It’s a sterile transaction with no contact between their skin, and I don’t feel threatened in the least bit. I know Micah will be coming to me soon.

In fact, he spins around to do just that. I get my first lucid glance at his face as his bleary eyes meet mine, and when he stumbles slightly when aiming for me, it’s more than clear that he’s drunk off his ass. How he managed to dance like that while nearly too intoxicated to walk a straight line—which might have been why his “seductive” sashay had a little extra sway in it earlier—is impressive.

As drunk as he is, though, I won’t consider bedding him tonight. Tucking him in, maybe, but not for a quick fuck.

So, while trying to figure out why seeing my steady fuck buddy give another man an intimate lap dance was so fucking hot, I keep an eye on Micah, letting him drink as much as he wants, party, sing, dance, laugh, and have fun before ultimately passing out as the party winds down.