The room is dark and the green LEDs that filter in are the only thing that gives some light inside my room unless I flick the light on but I don’t. I like it like that.
I toe off my shoes before I tilt my gaze back up and something moves by the corner near the table. I bend to grab my shoe and tightly grip the door handle.
“I know someone’s here,” I say sharply. “Don’t you dare do anything stupid because I may not look harmful but I will harm you if necessary?”
“I know,” his deep, throaty voice engulfs me.
I exhale in relief, letting go of my shoe and the handle. “What are you doing here, aren’t you supposed to go somewhere?”
“Yeah, I am. But it was delayed.”
Delayed, huh?
He rises to stand, and this room seems so small compared to his broad shoulders and masculine body. I left the door of the bathroom ajar so when he flicks the light on a slither of light softly permeates the room.
“Meadow, how did you get in?” I swear that my heart’s galloping as he starts closing the gap between us.
“The window is a trick I learned when I was a kid around here.” There’s a dose of sarcasm there. “Why did you go to my room?”
“How do you know I went to your room?” I question, taking a step back and my back collides with the door.
“You weren’t so subtle with your knocking,” he teases.
“Liar.”
“Fine,” he whispers when he’s a step away. “The guy from the next room lets me know when someone is being nosey.”
Clever.
I put my hand between us, preventing him from stepping farther and he stays in his place. “I was about to make an offer,” I say.
“Go on.” His expression remains the same. Soft but piercing like the edge of a sharp knife.
“I need to let off some steam and I thought we could help each other,” I explain.
“Yeah, I can help you.”
I start to strip my clothes off one by one and chuck them in a pile on the floor. “I need this one-time favor.”
The muscles in his face don’t move an inch as his eyes assess me. “What are you doing?” He asks in confusion.
After I take off my bra, my breasts are splayed before him, my nipples puckered, and I pull down my underwear. “I need you to touch me.”
The last person who did was my ex and he is not the one I want to remember when it comes to sex and what it feels like. It was okay but I always felt like it could be better. It wasn’t everything I craved. Knowing Meadow from our interactions, he is a hundred percent on the rougher side of the spectrum.
“I want to fuck you.”
His eyes drink every inch of me and fixate on my pierced nipple. “Stop,” he says softly.
I’m completely naked already so if he rejects me this is going to be embarrassing. I wanted to take comfort in the pleasure. Not him.
He swiftly tugs his shirt free by pulling the collar over his head in one motion. My eyes track the movement of his hands without losing contact or blinking once. Veins bulge and stretch along his tatted arm, capturing me like an arsonist to a fire. Burning heat courses through my veins and excites my system.
He has a beautiful chest piece that I eyed earlier when he was shirtless. Another tattoo crawls on the other side of his neck, covering a significant part of it, and slithers down his shoulder.
His necklace hangs backward so I fix it for him, having the urge to cross one leg over the other but I don’t, lettingmy wetness drip as I gaze up at him. Before I take my hand away, he grips my wrist and places my palm against his abs, dragging it up and down slowly as his muscles flex. Tingles surge through my body as I look into his eyes.
The way his tight body is wrapped around me makes me feel so tiny compared to him. So good, and warm and vulnerable, and honest and real.
