Prince Chance (Prince of Tease Book 4)

by Xavier Neal

  I finish the breath, though it ends in a heavy moan.

  “Again.”

  During the repeating of the action, Syd once again squeezes my cock, pitting my mind against my body for a second time.

  “Let your mind, body, and soul work as one,” she quietly demands, the heat of her words near my lips. “Allow them to unite.”

  With another deep breath, I relinquish the control I seem to be subconsciously holding onto. My entire body relaxes into the breath and into Syd’s touch. The warmth of her palm no longer feels as if it’s stroking so much so as bathing my cock in pure beatitude. Each caress is synced to the thrumming of my heartbeat and the rhythmic combination steals several sweet groans from my throat.

  Her lips lightly feather mine. “Breathe with me.”

  She parts our mouths a bit wider, and together, we inhale. I suck in more than just air. I absorb the warmth of her words. The steam of her passion. The weight of her desperation for me. Her grip tightens, choking my cock, causing it to burn for reprieve the same way my lungs are. Syd begins a slow pulsating that has my nuts darting up to the base of my dick in absolute surrender. All of a sudden, she squeezes my balls at the same time we release the breath we had been holding. Relief crashes into delirious need, which sends my mind whirling into a realm of delirium. Unsure how much more I can take, I dig my fingers into the hardwood floor, and silently beg for release.

  Syd denies the request. “Again.”

  This time our mouths open wider. The action yanks my mind from one maddening path to another. We inhale and her hand slowly grazes my cock from root to tip. Torn between wanting her to stop the torture and to take me to the next level of it, I merely submit to the bliss blazing throughout every vein in my body. With each pump the pressure builds and builds until the beatific throbbing in my balls matches the one in my head and chest.

  Finally, we release the breath, and I come without further warning. Long, searing streams sloppily soak Syd’s hand, yet she doesn’t stop our breathing. She simply continues the pattern, touch still cradling my cock, cock still coming like a leak incapable of being plugged. The orgasm cycles through wreaking havoc on my soul and repairing it. For what feels like an eternity, my frame endlessly trembles despite the steadiness of our respiring. My mind peacefully floats along a wave of rapture only falling from it when her grip vanishes. At that moment, my hands slip outward and my body slumps completely backwards.

  Whoa….

  Syd’s finger lightly drags itself along my jawbone line doing its best to persuade my lids to open. “Gonna make it?”

  My mouth tumbles open to answer but fails to do so verbally.

  Her head lands softly on my chest and an arm snuggly around my waist. “What do you say we take a small nap before we have to go to work?”

  One hand manages to cross the space to link with hers in a silent agreement.

  Holy shit. This chick just fucked my brains out without fucking at all! Am I in way over my head? Is it normal to be this…connected to another being on multiple levels? Is this why my inner wolf seems to howl so loudly when we leave her presence? Does it know how truly mated we’re destined to be? Wait. Are we destined to be or is this just an intense spiritual high I happen to be riding?

  8

  Sydney

  I adjust the floral towel draped over my shoulder.

  Please, hold all old lady comments and judgments. I haven’t had a chance to do laundry, yet, so I borrowed one from Birdie after I helped install the new gym area in her birds’ cage. That’s right. They have a gym all their own, and I can’t get anyone to hire me at one. Is that irony? Bad mood? No. Just…a little off centered. Need a moment of peace.

  Walking into Yoga Bear Studio, I happen to catch the tail end of the phone conversation the receptionist, Gina, is having, “That’s correct. We are looking to hire a full time yoga instructor.”

  Maybe this day is going to look up after all.

  “Yes,” she says at the same time she gives me a small wave. “The application is available online through our website along with pay, hours, and required experience.” There’s a brief pause before she says, “Mmhm. No problem.”

  Gina ends the call, and I instantly ask, “You’re hiring for full time? Since when?”

  “Since Brenda quit to move to Brazil with the guy she met online.”

  I lift my eyebrows in question.

  Gina toys with the ends of her red hair. “Yeah. They met twice, and she just jetted off with him. God, I hope she doesn’t end up being a ripped from the headlines Criminal Minds case.”

  Very vivid. And no. I don’t like those types of shows. They have a tendency to showcase the monsters that plague humanity rather than the heavenly creatures. Hey! No need to bring my spy fetish into this. Besides, those demonstrate the evils of man and the heroes who fight it against all odds.

  Instead of feeding into the drama llama like she’s hoping, I meekly ask, “Can I apply?”

  Gina’s blue eyes widen as if surprised by the question.

  Which she shouldn’t be since I’ve been teaching a class here for over a year and am the fill in whenever they call….

  She gives me a carefree shrug. “Sure. I don’t see why not. The app is online. Just know Jenny plans to have the position filled ASAP, so you might wanna get yourself in the running like tonight.”

  I offer her a smile of gratitude. “Thanks for the tip.”

  Gina winks just as the phone rings again. She quickly answers, which is when I return to heading for the studio I’ll be teaching in.

  Hot yoga or more formally, Bikram yoga, is probably my favorite next to tantric teaching. Having your body heat and mold like clay is exhilarating to me. Plus, it’s typically a bit more fun. There are several women who come with a couple of their girlfriends as a fun, healthy bonding experience. Rae is here almost every week for that reason alone. She’s really not a fan of yoga or sweating or anything too physical, but she likes to dramatically participate in the front of class and provide us all with a few giggles courtesy of her snarky comments. She usually sticks around for a few minutes after to squeeze in a bit more girl time. I don’t exactly have the easiest social schedule considering my job hours and the fact taking care of Birdie is like an extra job, but she’s always willing to make it work.

  The moment I’m inside the heated studio I’m surprised to see most of the women congregated towards the far corner.

  I immediately head to the front of the room where Rae is incredulously staring. “What’s going on?”

  She momentarily purses her lips together. “The way they’re circling, my guess is some hot guy drop in.”

  A rarity, but it would make sense. Most men I’ve met who enjoy yoga definitely prefer the air conditioned kind.

  “It’s like hot guy season or something. Drewella was posting status update after update that she may have found true love.”

  Rae rolls her eyes. “Did she rediscover her reflection?”

  A snicker tickles the back of my throat. “No. According to the posts, she’s seen him for months, but finally got the courage to slip her number into his jacket pocket.”

  “Because she knew he’d never take it if she just handed it to him?” My best friend doesn’t allow for a retort. “Because she carries the plague of a thousand bitches.”

  With a shake of my head, I drop the subject, retrieve my mat and start setting up. “How was work?”

  There’s a familiar heavy sigh out of her. “No one likes to listen to my ideas until crunch time, so I’m gonna go with, same as always. You?”

  I drop the towel on the edge of the mat and begin to warm up with a small shifting of my weight from side to side. “Won’t complain.”

  “Do you ever?”

  A lighthearted smile crosses my lips. “I choose not to.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Hippie Poppins. I know. You’d rather be one with the light side than come to the dark where it is rumored we have cookies and brownies now.”

&
nbsp; We lightly giggle together.

  Suddenly, there’s movement from the congregation in the corner, and the centerpiece is revealed.

  My jaw drops. “That’s Chance.”

  “As in the Chance?”

  “Yes.”

  “As in charity Chance?”

  “Yes.”

  “As in the best sex I’ve ever had, Chance?”

  “Not sure I said that last one.”

  “Definitely sure you didn’t have to.”

  I try to stop my face from flushing at more than the excruciating heat.

  “So, that’s the boyfriend….”

  “Labels,” my voice quietly scolds.

  We don’t officially have one…or at least I don’t think we do. I’m not even completely sure I’m the only one he’s dating. We don’t discuss those things. We just…get together. Hang out. Laugh. Get naked. Get physical and enjoy the moments we’ve managed to steal from our mismatched lives. As much as I want to be the girlfriend, the forever girl, the happily ever after, I’m not so sure that’s what he wants. Why push it when I can just enjoy it? Why force commitment when it’s clear he’s happy as is?

  One woman, who I’m unfamiliar with, gives his bicep a playful push.

  Her blatant flirting has me grinding my teeth.

  “Lord have mercy, is that jealousy I see on your face?”

  Quickly, I spin on my heels towards the mirror and begin to fidget with my hair. “No! Of course not. There’s no need for jealousy in life, Rae. There is plenty for everyone.”

  My best friend sneers. “Really? Even now? With Middle Aged Britney sticking her cougar talons into your man’s arm?”

  “Birds have talons. Cougars have claws.”

  Her hands drop onto her hips. “Yeah, well, how about you find yours and go stake your claim?”

  The suggestion has me shifting uncomfortably on the balls of my feet.

  Is he really mine to claim? I mean, I know my inner wolf is growling and preparing to draw blood, but that’s a little irrational, isn’t it? What if The Cosmos doesn’t have us putting labels on each other because we’re merely stepping stones to other places? What if that cradle robber over there is where he was supposed to be led?

  Rae snaps her fingers to grab my attention. “Look, Pushy, the Pushover Dragon, regardless if you two are having trouble in the name game phase of your relationship, he is obviously here for you. That action speaks much louder than any bullshit title ever could.”

  Her point is met with a slow nod.

  She tosses her head their direction. “Go.”

  There’s no hesitation in me this time. I swiftly cross the room to where they’re surrounding him and part the sea. Before anyone has the opportunity to question my actions, I dart to the tips of my toes and smash our lips together. Chance softly groans at the impact at the same time I wind my arms around his waist. While I intend for our kiss to be brief, a mere silent statement to alert the other women of our current connection, he doesn’t let go. His tongue knocks against my mouth until it’s granted the access it deserves. Craves. Without care or concern for the audience I’m certain we have, our tongues recklessly roll around one another’s.

  When Chance finally pulls back, his blue eyes are sparkling. “I’ve missed you, babe.”

  The term of endearment has me sweetly cooing, “I’ve missed you, too.”

  Rather than have a conversation in front of the class, I give them a polite nod and state, “Excuse us.”

  They snicker to themselves as I lead the two of us to the opposite corner near the door.

  Once we’re there, we exchange another set of excited grins.

  What can I say? It feels like forever ago since we’ve seen each other. We make plans often; however, they constantly get changed or rearranged. It’s normally my fault. Birdie or my mom or occasionally Rae needs something, and I feel obligated to be there for them. Chance is oddly understanding, which is another reason why I think maybe I’m not the only girl in his life to keep him occupied. Usually, I see him on Sundays no matter how crazy our week has been but not this time. One of his best friends had a baby, so he went to the hospital instead. We talk and text every day, but it pales in comparison to physically being intertwined. Hell, just holding hands like this is a heart pounding experience. Dear Goddess, I am too far gone for my own good.

  Eventually, I manage to ask, “What um….What are you doing here?”

  “I told you I missed you.”

  The response receives a sweet smile.

  “I’ve missed you a lot. Figured, I could crash your yoga class and then we could grab some dinner? Have each other for dessert?” His suggestion is followed by a wicked grin. “Or we could have dessert first then order in. I don’t mind treating my body before nourishing it.”

  My smile lingers. “I’m a treat?”

  “To more than just my body, babe.”

  Does he say shit like this to all the women he meets, or just me? Should it matter?

  I swallow the question I wanna ask. “I um….I can’t do dinner when we’re finished.”

  “Oh.” His face falls. “Other plans?”

  “I have to clean the studios.”

  He lifts his eyebrows in surprise.

  “I scrub the floors and mirrors once a week after my class.” There’s no shame in my proclamation though I’m sure there should be. “Adds a bit of a boost to my paycheck.”

  Chance looks relieved as well as impressed. “You really are always working, huh?”

  “More or less.”

  His fingers flex tighter. “How about I stick around to help?”

  I quickly try to deny the offer, “Chance, you don’t have to-”

  “I want to,” he interrupts. “I wanna spend more time with you, which is why I’m here in this hot as fuck room, ready to sweat my balls off.” After we lightly laugh, he shrugs. “What’s a little more sweat if it means we get to be together?”

  “Chance-”

  “We’ll work up an appetite and depending on what’s still open, maybe just swing by my favorite store to pick up some groceries.”

  “For dinner?”

  “And breakfast.”

  The implication has me unable to resist the question floating around my mind. “You don’t…um…have other plans you need to get to?”

  To my surprise, it doesn’t take him any time to sense what I’m dancing around. “Spending time with my girlfriend is the only thing I need to do tonight.”

  I helplessly smile.

  “Now, where should your boyfriend set his mat up, babe?”

  Guess we do have a label.

  “Grab a spot next to Rae in the front. She’ll most likely have a million questions and accusations for you.”

  “Accusations?” Panic immediately appears. “Am I doing something wrong?”

  I shake my head and lean up to give him a short, reassuring kiss on the cheek. “No. But she finds joy in watching other people squirm, so prepare yourself.”

  Chance chuckles and releases my hand to go grab his mat.

  Upon my return to the front of the studio, I prematurely scold Rae, “Be. Nice.”

  She fakes being appalled. “I’m always nice.”

  “Rae….”

  “Fine. Fine. I’ll avoid asking him questions about his magical tongue and dick size.”

  “Bigger than average,” Chance casually comments, cocky grin on his face. “And I’d know.”

  Rae turns her face towards him. “That last line makes me wonder if we’re swinging for the same team, pretty boy.”

  “Rae!”

  “Only thing I’m swinging my dick towards is my girl’s pussy.”

  His response cracks my mouth open.

  My best friend excitedly extends her hand. “Rae.”

  They shake. “Chance.”

  I touch my already cherry colored cheeks and loudly announce, “Please, find a spot! We’re ready to begin.”

  We have to start now, or my head may e
xplode from the easy energy passing between them. No, not in a romantic way, but in a total he fits too perfectly into my life sort of way. Maybe that’s okay? After all I am his girlfriend….

  Class moves as swiftly and smoothly as always. Like normal, Rae makes sarcastic retorts about her not working for Auntie Anne’s and threatening to sue for being a part of an unwanted slip and slide. Chance encourages the joking and laughs often, which keeps the ladies hot and tense for a completely different reason. During my rounds of helping straighten and strengthen positions, he purposely puts himself out of stance to have me correct him. The touching receives a moan as well as a heated exchange of expressions. At the end of class, the women linger longer, anxious to ask Chance if he’ll be back next week, but Rae does her “best friend duty” and not so casually helps them find their way out the door.

  We start our cleaning in one of the smaller studios that’s used primarily for private lessons. It’s the least dirty and takes almost no time to clear up with two people. The second studio, however, is much larger and primarily used for the teen dance team and musical theatre training. Unfortunately, it’s littered in left over water bottles, cans, and snack wrappers. Rather than let the trash get our spirits down, we turn it into a basketball competition to see who can get the most shots in.

  Chance tosses a can towards the recycle bin and it bounces off the rim. “Damn….” He quickly hustles over to retrieve it, takes a step back, and tries again. It misses a second time, which is when I catch my laughter in the palm of my hand. Not one to give up so easily, he grabs the can again for one last try. This time his throw is lighter and falls just an inch shy of the recycle bin all together. “Son of a bitch!”

  “I totally support you quitting your day job to bake but not to join the NBA.”

  He hits me with a jovial smirk. “Let me see you do better.”

  I grab one of the plastic bottles closest to me and line up the shot. Effortlessly, I let it go with a flick of the wrist. The bottle soars into the bin without hitting the edge. I innocently shrug. “You suck.”