Cole
It started with what sounded like heavy breathing.
At first, I thought that I was hearing things. No way I heard Lilly... pleasuring herself, right? That was ridiculous.
But there was something about the human mind that justknewthe instant some sort of sexual gratification was happening, whether in the form of two friends trying to get it on in secret in a bathroom or someone touching themselves one room over. Everyone thought that they were being subtle. Everyone was usually wrong.
And I knew as I heard Lilly’s breathing intensify that she was touching herself, and I strongly suspected that our kiss had something to do with it.
Why had I pulled away? It was inappropriate. Sure, it was consensual, but... I had to focus on the Reapers’ task at hand, which was to kill Lucius Sartor and end the Fallen Saints. Making out, let alone sleeping with, his only daughter was not only not going to help that, it was going to complicate things pretty badly.
But now, as I leaned against my door, listening to Lilly finger herself, listening to her try and be so silent and yet being able to hear everything... oh my God, the temptation to “accidentally” walk in on her, tell her I’d take care of the rest, and make love to her was almost irresistible. I think the only thing that kept me in place was just that it would take effort; had, say, I still been on the couch or even at the kitchen table, I probably would have done something.
My cock was rock hard. I was touching myself, too, albeit not like she was. I was touching myself like I was priming a pump, getting it ready for use in case that moment came. I was fighting like hell to make sure I did not have to, but damnit, a woman as beautiful as her, right on my couch, probably using our kiss as erotic material…
“Ah!”
I heard her come. She tried to stifle it, but the cry was so loud, I would have heard it from my porch. It was not as subtle as she probably thought it was. Orgasmic release almost never was.
I supposed the good news of that moment was that I now had an excuse to remain in my bedroom, which was that she had achieved the release she wanted, and I had no role to fulfill. Yes, I knew women could orgasm in rapid succession, and yes, I knew that physically speaking, there was nothing preventing us from having sex right then. But I was happy to latch on to any excuse I could get to avoid making things more complicated than they already were.
But as I went to bed, I knew that just because I had released myself of the temptation to go out there and do more did not mean that I had released myself from my sexual libido. I tried to sleep, tried different positions, tried various things, but I kept going back to that pleasured gasp, that heavy breathing, that kiss... I couldn’t get it out of my head.
Finally, probably a good hour after she had achieved orgasm, I bit the bullet. I went to the bathroom, stepped into the shower stall, grabbed some lube, and touched myself as she had.
It took me all of about thirty seconds to finish. That was how aroused Lilly Sartor had made me.
* * *
One Week Later
Somehow, through a fortuitous combination of going to both the Gray and Black Reapers’ clubhouses, avoiding physical touch, and keeping conversation to a minimum, neither Lilly or I had so much as hugged the other, let alone erotically touched and been more intimate.
But there were unavoidable signs that there was only so long we could keep up this little distanced dance of ours.
First, that night where she touched herself was not the last. In fact, she wound up getting more and more daring, perhaps without even realizing it. At least twice, I could hear her saying my name as she touched herself. It felt so naughty to be listening in to whatever she was doing, but it was like the apple in the Garden of Eden—I could not resist it.
Second, we were like magnets that drew together very slowly; it took more effort for us to stay apart, and if we didn’t pay attention, we could suddenly find ourselves sitting mere inches away from each other on the couch.
And finally, perhaps the most obvious sign was the fact that, well, it was even possible to have signs in the first place.
Lilly’s stay was never meant to be a long-term or even a medium-term thing. It was meant to provide her safety from the watchful eyes of Lucius, like hiding her from Big Brother—except now, it was Big Father—until she had a plan. And once she had that plan, she’d be on a train or a plane somewhere far away, never to be seen again by me or anyone else in this town.
Seven days later, I wasn’t even sure if she had looked up any train tickets.
And what was equally “bad” was that I made no effort to push her out the door. I think maybe on the third day, I’d made a comment about how there were many places she could go that were cheap, but it never went beyond that. I let her stay as much as she chose to stay, and both sides of that deal indicated something that needed to be fulfilled first.
So, yeah, it seemed like there would soon come a point where me listening to her and then me going to the shower were going to end, and it was going to be replaced by me walking in on her.
But at least for this morning, one in which I would have a legit reason to be away because of a club meeting, I had gotten by with a quick jerk-off in the shower. I made myself breakfast while Lilly watched television, keeping our conversation light, surface-level, and distanced. I sort of missed that comfort and that satisfaction of having serious, vulnerable conversations with her, but there was just too much at risk.
When I arrived at the Black Reapers’ clubhouse, the location of choice for our church meeting this go-around, I made a beeline straight for the private meeting room. I always tried to keep my presence to a minimum now, always sure that the longer I stayed here, the more likely it would be something would get revealed.
Lane was sitting there inside. I patted him on the shoulder, and he nodded up at me, giving me a quick “sup” as I sat down next to him. I said, “Not much,” and that was the end of that. Lane and I were improving, but that didn’t mean every conversation had to be deep and heavy. Slowly, the rest of the club officers started to filter in.
“Is this everyone?” Lane said. “All right, let’s get rolling. So, something has happened since the last time we met. We got a report that two Fallen Saints went to Tom’s Billiards in Ashton and confronted Cole and Phoenix.”
What the fuck.
