Rich Man

“What exactly do you want to know?” he choked out, barely able to form words let alone speak clearly. His body was reacting just the way that I figured it would. While his eyes, fogging over with a new found craving, read both submission and desire, his hands acted for him. They snaked to my hips with a grip on the flesh under my shirt I could only describe as chilling, like how I imagined his teeth would probably feel sinking into my skin.

“Anything,” I replied breathily and pulled back from his lips just slightly. It was enough to create the magnet effect I was looking for in him. He moved with me, eyes completely glazed over now, constantly moving his lips closer to mine in the hopes of making contact.

“This is almost unfair, you know,” he complained quietly, grip tightening on my waist as I came to sit upright. He followed without any hesitation, keeping that same centimeter of distance between the two of us. “If I had any guts I’d make you mine right now.”

“But...?” I taunted in reply, an evil little knowing Cheshire grin prodding him on. My mouth evaded his with a subtle little half-inch move back causing his finger tips to dig into my sides. Usually I’d jump or flinch at the feeling, but at the moment, my heart was beating so fast and hard that I couldn’t have cared less.

“But I’m a gentleman and I do kind of like this little,” his hand swiftly moved from my lower hip to the center of my back, right over the clasp of my push-up bra, “arrangement.” My mouth fell slightly ajar as I was pushed completely upright against his chest, hands having nowhere to go but around his neck. Our noses touched and in my stupidity my confidence through expression completely disappeared. Now Bergeron’s eyes were alive with a seductive zeal that made me want to defy what my gut was telling me and just go straight for his belt.

“Well I’m a gifted boy,” he replied with a cheeky grin, moving in again for a kiss.

I evaded without a problem and chuckled. “I want to get to know you, not be told the obvious.”

It seemed to finally hit him then and there that I wanted depth rather than stupid little facts I could find through Wikipedia. “What is there to learn?” he asked quietly, hands returning to my sides in a light, comfortable hold. However, when I went to un-straddle him, he declined and held me planted exactly where I was. The smug little grin on his face would have been kind of cute had it not been for all of the horribly dirty thoughts running shamelessly through my mind. “Not many people know I’ve got a brother. Poor kid lacks attention.”

“So there’s a good twin?”

He leaned forward, lazy half smile sending a chill up my spine. “Give me some incentive and you’ll find out.”

Before his lips could connect with mine, my index finger made contact with his mouth and I moved my lips directly to his ear with a sharp little whisper of, “Go on.” He tensed significantly until I placed a small peck on his cheek. “You talk, I’ll do the work.” By “work” I meant the brief little contact my lips had with his skin every time he gave me something little to work off of. I obviously wasn’t expecting much depth in his words as this was my first time prying anything out of him, but it was a damn good start. And every little bit of contact I could tell made him putty in my hands. I mean one peck on the cheek and you’d think that he was going to faint or something.

“Well… I don’t actually drink despite popular belief,” he went on with a tad bit of hesitance, but the second I had my lips to his opposite cheek, he closed his eyes and continued on. For every random fact about himself that he’d give me, I’d press my lips to another part of his face. Once over the forehead, twice on each cheek and even once on the nose. It got to the point where I was finding spots along his jaw to assault and even then I was running out of options.

Impatient, I began a slow assault on his neck, completely cutting off his breathing all together. I could feel the wind rip from his throat the moment I slid my fingers up one side of his neck and began my excruciating, slow dance over the most delicate patches of skin I could find.

“I hope you know you’re making it impossible for me to go on coherently.”

“You don’t sound like you’re having much trouble forming words.”

“That’s because I’ve been trying to make that sentence for the last three minutes.”

I laughed lightly against his neck, invoking a small army of shivers I could tell he was fighting to keep back. His head turned into mine, eyes hell bent on returning my little favors. It was far from his nature to go without being the dominant one and it was easy to see that he had had enough of me toying with him as I pleased. However, I was far from done with him and this was a one-man show. At least, the physical aspect of our dealings were.

“You know I won’t let you try,” I whispered, taking his chin between my thumb and forefinger and gently pressuring his head up. Before he could say a thing, I pushed him down to a laying position and followed right over him, mouth back to the center of his neck, just under his Adam’s apple. “Don’t talk.”

His breathe hitched in his throat the second I began nipping and teasing the skin around the collar of his shirt. While I remained completely calm and basked in the feeling of complete control, his breathing grew shallow and quick the closer to his collar I got. I was brushing my tongue against a spot I had half a mind to mark when the thing I dreaded the most snapped the two of out of our trance.

A series of knocks on the other side of the door had me flying off the boy and straightening myself out as much as possible. It took him a moment to follow, but when he finally got on his feet, the look on his face was priceless. “You do not have a lot of experience with personal opposite sex relations, do you?”

With a sly little smirk he straightened out his shirt and replied, “Maybe you’ll find out say… Next time?”

“That’s assuming you still have some interesting tales to tell me.” I led him to the door and ran my fingers through his hair a few times to not make it look like we had just gone at it. Well, I had just gone at him. Either way, he had quickie hair.

“There is far more where that came from,” he replied with a confident super star smile as I shoved him toward the door. On the other side stood both of my female companions who had a more than amused look on both of their faces when they realized exactly how red in the face he was upon bidding us a goodnight.

-

[From the other side.]

Fuck, that was hot. Fuck, am I stupid? Fuck, I’m an idiot. Fuck, I need like twelve cold showers. Fuck, I hope Lex and Aves didn’t look down past my belt when I left. Fuck, I hope they didn’t see and figure out what went down. Fuck, what if Milan finds out. FUCK, he’ll fucking kill me!

My little walk down the hall was at first just a cool-down until I came to realize that maybe rooming with Looch for this city wasn’t possibly my hottest choice. I mean, it helps that back when I asked if he and Mark wouldn’t mine making the switch that I had no idea Ray would freaking do that.

“Well shit,” I spouted aloud alone in the elevator, “I didn’t know anyone could do that the way she did.”

I ran a quivering hand over my face, examining myself in the mirrored walls of the elevator as I approached my floor. I looked like I had just run a marathon and decided it would be alright to wear my postgame clothes. And for a guy who’s supposed to look crazy sharp postgame just in case the media decided to attack, I looked like the polar opposite. My dress shirt was now loose from its once neatly tucked fashion under my belt, which was now a little bit off center. My hair looked like I just had a quick one and my face would not return to a normal tan shade no matter how long I stood under the nearest active air duct.

To think that it was all because of her made sense, though. Ray was the definition of attractive, but she was also a total mystery. To be honest, I’ve felt like I’ve already known her from the moment we had our first verbal match and yet I still know like nothing about her. And then she goes and decides that she’s going to nearly put out just to get to know me? Unreal.

My mind kept itself firmly wrapped around the idea of her and what the hell she could possibly be up to. I mean, maybe this was her way of killing two birds with one stone, but at the same time she wouldn’t let me retaliate. She loves teasing me; that much was clear. Is it wrong that I loved every second of it?

Upon entrance to my room, I found Looch out cold in his bed, snoring up a storm as usual. While normally that bothered the hell out of me and reminded me why exactly I never roomed with him, it did nothing. I probably let it slip because the moment I set eyes on his bulky silhouette, I realized how pissed and hurt he’d be if he found out about Ray. Then there was the prospect of her “wanting to know me” without allowing me the pleasure or courtesy (but more pleasure) of retaliating and getting some facts out of her in return.

I slipped into the bathroom and stripped down, flicking the water on the coldest setting, and jumped in the shower for a swift scrub down. It was no surprise that my fingers gingerly walked over the places around my neck she had so mercilessly assaulted. Not to sound like a total sap or something, but the way she felt on me was better than anything I had ever experienced in my entire life.

Well with girls, anyway.

While admittedly, no, I wasn’t a man of many females, I was still freakishly impressed. She was the first to ever have me turned on and ready to go without my help and just by working on my neck for a minute or two. There was no way in hell I was going to pass up going through that again.

Nobody gets to know, I stated firmly in my mind as I stepped out of my frigid rinse. I’ll let her get to know everything about me possible and then when I have nothing more to say, I’ll take my chance to return the favor. For now, I need to stop thinking about this.

Uh…

Looch’s fist in my mouth, hockey, junk food, Canada, Celine Dion, emus, clothes (or lack thereof), fuck uh cameras, media, interviews, smelly gear…

-

Avery and Lex both had the same stupidly happy look on their faces as they practically shoved me back into the room and closed and locked the door behind them. “You guys did something. He had the sex face on loud and clear.”

“What did you do? Kiss him? Make out? His hair was crazy freaked out so tell me you didn’t… Y’know… Yet,” prodded Lex with a spastic grin.

Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Sorry to disappoint, but nothing happened. The closest we got was when he hid the damn remote from me and I like kind of wrestled him for it… Ish. He won, obviously, but all I did was get to know the guy. Nothing to it. I guess you can say we’re a bit closer now, though. I doubt he’d turn down hanging out a bit again.”

Was I trying to be that double-sided?

Yeah, actually, just a little bit. It got me my shits and giggles, so sue me.

I eventually held them off until they quit arguing and passed out. Before I joined them I recorded my little endeavor, entirely in Bulgarian, in my journal. The last thing I wanted, in the event that the thing ever got stolen or what have you, was for someone to find out I actually got that close to a direct subject of work to get my answers. At least this method was an efficient one.

Bergeron wouldn’t say a word for two main reasons:

One. Milan Lucic and his fists of death.

Two. Guilt. He’s going to feel obligated to even the score and give me some lovin’. Patrice will also feel guilty for using me for pleasure in exchange for memories he deems are insignificant to me. Also, he would never say a word about a relationship that he doesn’t think is for one, completely mutual, and two, completely legitimate.

This one, my friends, is far from legitimate.