She's obviously not used to sharing the second floor.
I take in her wet hair and simple pajamas.
While I was outside pretending I didn't cop a feel and secretly celebrating the happy accident, she was washing off any metaphorical trace I left on her.
"Sorry, it's just me," I whisper, clutching the knot of the towel right at the base of my dick. The last thing she needs is me flashing my goods to level the playing field, so I hold onto my only form of coverage like my life depends on it.
"Oh, sorry. I thought you were already back inside."
"No, headed to bed now," I tell her.
It's dark in the hallway, and I'm not even close enough to touch her. Gripping the towel with one hand, my other resting at my side, her eyes widen when my grasp loosens and the towel releases some slack.
I didn't mean to do it, but seeing her acknowledge my accident with a heaving chest makes me realize she has that same carnal reaction I did to her exposed breast.
Her cheeks turn red, and as if lust could radiate off your skin, she emits a heat I can feel from where I stand.
"I—I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
And with that, she shuts her door and leaves me half naked and semi hard in the hallway.
She may not like me, but I can tell she's attracted to me. Good.
That's all I need to work with for now.
Whattheactualhellwas that?
I could tell Theo didn't have his shorts on. I couldtellby the way he was holding onto the towel like he was trying to hide his goods.
Has he completely forgotten what tact is? Common sense? Manners?
We aren't kids anymore.
We are grown-ass adults with needs and desires. When we were barely old enough to vote, Theo wasn't even a contender on my dating ballot. We had nothing in common. We were opposites in every aspect you could imagine.
But now? Fantasizing about my stepbrother, even if we didn't grow up as kids, is not what my broken heart needs right now. I’m wary of any man and his intentions, so consider me extra cautious because my teenage adversary might want to be friends.
I'm unable to sleep, and my cloudy judgment is failing me, because I keep obsessing over Theo's stomach and those V-shaped muscles right near his hips.
Fuck, he looks good. Who the hell knew all he needed was puberty and another continent to discover his inner gladiator?
I squirm under my duvet, suddenly too hot for layers.
Smacking both hands to my sides, I blow a few pieces of my hair out of my face. I need a freaking release.
It's been two weeks since I walked in on Beckett having phone sex with someone else, and it's been even longer since we were physical.
Was that my warning sign? He never wanted to touch me?
Either way, I'm feeling insecure and aroused all at the same time.
When I packed up my things, I made sure to take my vibrator. I wasn't about to leave it for Beckett to discover.
Beckett was traditional in bed. He didn't like using toys and would only do missionary. Which was fine. I see now he was bored with me, but I bought a vibrator either way because a woman still had needs when he traveled out of state.
And right now, I grab it from my suitcase. I've never checked to see how discreet it is, but I power it on anyway and hope for the best.
Ican'tsleep.
