Good Game (The System, #1) (12)
“No need. Watching you come made this whole show worth it.”
“But I want to.” My voice comes out whiney, but I don’t care. I want to see him come undone, even if I can’t see his face. I want that power, that feeling. I crave it.
“Stevie?” Deanna’s voice fills my ears, and I freeze as I crash back to reality.
“Another time.” He reaches behind me to open the door. “And I’m still waiting on that double whiskey.” He exits the room just as I see Deanna round the corner. Her gaze snags on Blade before it lands on me, and her eyes widen. She rushes to me and smacks my shoulder.
“I was wondering where you were because you missed the last break, but clearly I should’ve just let you be.”
“Sorry, things just,” my brain is failing to catch up, “things just happened.”
“Obviously.” She reaches out to smooth my hair. “Let’s try to make it seem like you weren’t just freshly fucked for when we go back out there.”
“We didn’t fuck.”
“Well, he wasn’t helping you look for cocktail napkins.” I snort as she repositions my dress and smooths it out. “Are you not wearing underwear?”
“Not anymore.” She squeals and smacks my arm again. “Oh my god, Dee, stop. You’re going to bruise me if you keep this up.”
“I expect a full debrief in the morning. Brunch at Glass & Grass.”
“Okay. I have yoga at ten, but let’s meet after.”
“Deal.” She gives me another once over before linking her arm through mine and leading me back out to the floor.
SIX
* * *
ALEKS
“Sydney might just murder you.”
“I pay her too much for her to murder me.”
“I think she’s saved up enough that she might accept the loss.”
It’s times like this that I hate wearing the mask because the death glare I’m giving Jackson right now would normally shut him up.
“Whatever, the ceremony is almost over.” At least I hope it is. We’ve been here almost two hours.
“You should’ve seen Decker’s face when he came back to his table. He was livid.”
I smirk. It’s a universal agreement in our group that Decker is a dick. Even if it weren’t for the fact that he runs in the same circle as the Covingtons—risking Parker’s identity, or that he always hits on Sydney, or that he spent weeks saying I used cheat codes to beat him in a ranked match when I fucking didn’t… Basically, Decker has it out for us, and in return, we have it out for him. And him harassing Stevie is just the icing on the douchebag cake.
I can feel Decker turning back every few minutes to glare at me, something I’m sure the media has picked up on. Maybe I should send Sydney a heads up. I flip my phone over and pull up her contact right as I see Stevie making her way past the nearest champagne cart, whiskey in hand. My still-hard dick twitches at the sight of her, especially knowing that she has nothing on under that dress right now.
“In the next few minutes, we will be announcing the nominees and winners for the Best Breakout Streamer and Streamer of the Year!”
The audience goes wild, their attention wholly focused on Castle. Stevie uses that moment to breeze up to our table, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Double whiskey.” She slides the amber tumbler into my hand, two bar straws swirling around the liquid. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a cocktail napkin, but it drops to the floor and floats under the tablecloth. “Sorry, let me grab that.” She crouches down, but when her hand touches the napkin, she slides it farther under the table, her back arching to follow the momentum.
“And the nominees for Best Breakout Streamer are…”
All noise turns to a muffle as I watch in pure shock as Stevie’s entire body slips under the white tablecloth.
She’s not going to…
I feel her hands on my ankles before they begin to trace their way up my legs, stopping when she reaches the bulge in my pants.
She is.
I grip the table to pull my chair flush with the edge. Her dainty fingers run lazily across the fabric, the pace teasing me as I struggle not to shift in my seat. She starts to apply more pressure, and I let out a deep breath. She hasn’t even unzipped me, and I’m already straining at the seams. I feel her fiddling with the button of my pants, and I’m grateful that Sydney didn’t make me wear a belt.
She pulls the zipper down, and my cock pushes forward in my boxers. She proceeds to taunt me further, palming my covered dick, up and down, increasing in pressure as she reaches the tip. I shakily reach forward and bring the whiskey to the edge of my mask, tipping it up so I can take a long sip from the straw. Just as the burn begins in my throat, she reaches under the band and frees my dick. I groan as soft fingers graze over the sensitive skin.
Her thumb rolls over the bead of precum that has gathered at the tip, swirling it around. There is a pause as she removes her hand for a second before quickly replacing it, wet this time. I smirk at the thought of her on her hands and knees under the table, spitting into her palm before grabbing my cock.
I relax my body against the back of the chair, closing my eyes as I lose myself to her rhythm for the next few minutes. One hand pumps and twists along my length while the other cups my balls with light pressure. I have to ball my hands up tightly to stop myself from reaching under the table and fisting her hair, shoving those plump lips around my cock. Something tells me she would love a little pain.