I must have woken up fifteen times during the night, my raging hard on, aching with want and need. Sara wasn’t sober, so nothing was going to happen, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that I’d imagined her in my bed at least a thousand times, and now, here she was, curled up in my arms. Her curly hair was tangled around my arm, shoved into my face and mouth, and it was even better than I’d ever imagined.
Knowing she’d slept in my bed naked—shit, I couldn’t think about that right now. Not to mention the lacy fucking underwear I’d found stuffed into my dresser between all her clothes.
Knowing what her underwear looked like…
Fucking hell.One imagined. Wondered. But now Iknew. They were all kinds of colors and styles, but they all had one thing in common, they were soft, lacy and skimpy as fuck.
I needed a cold shower.
And that dildo. Damn that fucking dildo, it was still somewhere in the bed with us. I swallowed hard and tried not to picture what she looked like, using it on these very sheets.
Her sliding that sparkly thing in and out of herself, making more of those little noises that I could easily swallow down myown throat—all while her skin was damp onmysheets, head thrown back onmypillows.
It was all like a fucking wet dream come to life.
And what hadshebeen thinking about, using that sparkly thing inmybed? Had she been thinking about me?
Just then Sara murmured and threaded her leg over mine, leaving my knee now snugly jammed against the place I was desperately trying not to think about. Only the thin cotton of my borrowed boxers stood between me and the warm damp spot I could feel.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
I forced a slow, steady breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, over and over until I wasn’t a live wire ready to explode. It didn’t do much good, though. She smelled too damn good, and it wasn’t just her shampoo this time. It was everything, her skin, her arousal, all of it was mixing into a delirious cocktail that forced all my blood in one direction,no matter how hard I tried.
I started counting backwards from a thousand before I got distracted.
Why had she decided to sleep here, anyway?
Then it hit me… Brad stumbling up his driveway, drunk. We’d talked about a lot of things over these last few months, but we hadn’t talked about that.
Death was a clusterfuck of pain and misery that continued to unravel, no matter how hard you tried to stop pulling the thread. I understood at a certain point, there was only so much you could say about it.
What had happened was devastating, but what the actual fuck?
Seeing Brad like that was wildly disappointing. In fact, that didn’t even begin to cover it, and yet, to a degree, I understood it. The falling apart because of the loss. I couldn’t help feeling like even though it was only Sara’s mother who was gone, that it didn’t matter. In her own way, she’d lost both of her parents.
Just like me.
I hated that for her, and for Liam.
Liam.Fuck, what would Liam do if he found out about this? Us? I started counting backwards from a thousand again.
Before I knew it, the sun was coming up, and it didn’t matter that I’d hardly gotten any sleep. I was as wound up as the energizer bunny.
I pushed the covers down, trying to cool off. It had taken all night, but Sara had finally warmed up. Now that her skin was warm against mine, she seemed to radiate heat like her own personal furnace.
I wasn’t complaining about the situation by any means, but I never slept in sweats, and between every inch of her body pressed against mine, and my heart pounding arousal. I was ready to combust. I needed an ice-cold shower, and fast.
I just couldn't stop staring at her, hardly believing this moment was even real. Sara’s mouth hung open, snoring softly—her tongue was stained blue from whatever God-awful sugary drinks she’d no doubt slammed down, one after another, last night.
I smiled to myself as I gently shifted, trying my best to untangle our limbs without waking her, but Sara grumbled, reaching for me as I slid to the edge of the bed. I quietly pulled the covers back over her, tucking her in, and then propped an arm over the other side of her body, utterly mesmerized by this little slice of heaven.
She looked so peaceful that I couldn’t resist stroking a thumb over her cheek. She swallowed, closing her mouth, and I pushed a curl behind her ear, gently enough not to wake her.
I could hardly peel myself away, wanting to brand this moment into my memory forever, because I doubted it would ever happen again.
When I finally made it into the shower, I locked the door and immediately fisted my hard, aching cock under the hot water. I bit down on any moans, as I remembered how wet she’d been, splayed over me last night. I wondered what it’d feel like to actually slide into that tight warmth, and I imagined the whimpering little sounds she’d make when I did it.
Stuff I shouldn’t be thinking about at all, but it wasn’t two seconds before I was pumping into my hand hard and fast, and thick hot ropes were spraying onto the shower walls. When I was done, I braced both hands against the stone, letting the steaming hot water wash away my guilt.
