The angle is indeed awkward, but I’ll wear a wrist brace as a badge of honor. She's wound up tight, needing this release even more than she realizes. There's no way she's lasting five minutes.
Her legs part to make room for my large hand.
I'm savoring every moment, knowing this will be the fastest minute of my life. The way her head falls backward when I massage her just right. And how quickly she returns her face to mine when she grinds her pelvis into my fingers. I thought wrong about eye contact. She wants to look into my eyes while I do this.
She has no qualms about making this work for her, adjusting her position to ensure my thumb is rubbing her where she needs it. She's dripping onto the counter, and I can't wait to see her reaction when I'm done with her.
Her rapid breaths and stifled moans are sending waves of heat to my dick. My free hand that is keeping me upright wants to open up my towel and stroke myself until I'm coming undone along with her.
But this is about her, not me.
Amelia is right on the edge. Her consistent breathing is now rapid and irrational, building up so tight and she's about to unravel.
I get to witness Amelia orgasm, not behind closed doors, not in my imagination, but inches away from my ear.
She lightly punches my arm while grabbing a fistful of my shirt and smothers her moans by biting down on my shoulder.
This is better than I ever imagined.
It's real, raw, and the sexiest thing I've ever heard. Her high-pitched, muffled cry combined with her convulsing lower half makes me want to laugh, because I'm fucking giddy at hearing the consequences of my actions.
She writhes against my fingers in her final moments before she realizes what happened. I'm expecting her to go off the deep end, to freak out in the most obvious way possible.
But she seems okay.
And then I taste my fingers.
"Oh my God," she whispers, hopping off the counter and snatching her bikini bottoms off the floor. "What the fuck? What? What did we do, Theo?"
"I think I just gave you the best orgasm of your life."
"But–but–you…your fingers…"
I figured she'd be regretting the entire thing, but somehow, she's more mortified that I know what her pussy tastes like. She's ruining the post-orgasm euphoria and thinking too much.
She tastes amazing, but I can't even tell her this because she literally runs out of the kitchen.
I'm left standing in the dark, a wicked smile forming on my face.
Ihaveneverbeenmore grateful for having a job the next day.
The unease in the house is going to be insurmountable. Granted, I released my entire body's tension, but that's beside the point.
What the hell do I say tomorrow to the man who lives across the hallway? What if he comes to my room tonight and asks me to return the favor?
Would I? Probably… No. I mean no, I wouldn't.
Is it the attention I'm seeking? The desire I never got from Beckett? What is it that makes this so compelling?
We crossed the line. We'vebeencrossing the line. But fuck me, it was so wrong yet felt so good. How is this not the right course to take? Why haven't we been doing this since day one?
Because our parents are married, that's why. Because I just got out of a relationship and can't handle a new one. Because Theo seems like the type of man who breaks hearts. But even with what we've done so far, we could ruin an already fragile home environment.
Forgoingbreakfastforadeep clean of the kitchen, I get dressed and sneak out the front door before anyone is awake.
The day goes by in a flash thanks to the distraction of picky customers and rushes of teenagers in their swimsuits.
When my shift is about over, I collect the tips from the jar and change out the coins for dollar bills. Despite feeling like I worked on autopilot, I made $50. I'm grateful for the extra cash, and I approach Tawny.
