So damn late.
With his phone to his ear, I listened to him sigh. My heart pounded against my chest, all those dirty little fantasies coming to my mind. I closed my eyes.
Control, Mia.
For the first time tonight, I listened to him speak to the person on the other end, his voice deep and gruff. I squeezed my knees together and rubbed my palm against my thigh.
Don’t think about it.
I ground my thighs together, hoping for some kind of friction. He paused for a few moments, said a couple more words, then stood up.
“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath, bucking my hips against the patio chair. “Fuck me.”
He walked around the pool, the moonlight bouncing off his tan skin. I stared down at him, slipping a hand between my legs. This was the one and only time I’d touch myself at his house. It wouldn’t happen again. I was just really, really stressed and horny and … God, he looked so damn good in those sweatpants.
I rubbed myself through my shorts. I’d only do it for a few moments. Not any longer.Not—my fingers massaged my clit—fucking—a rush of pleasure shot through me—longer…
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and rubbed my fingers even faster against my pussy. The force was rising inside of me, and all I could imagine were his rough hands all over my body, his soft lips brushing against mine as he told me all the things he had been wanting to do to me. I stifled a moan, so close to coming.
When I reopened my eyes to stare at him, knowing it would tip me over the edge, he had turned in my direction, but he hadn’t looked up. At least, I hoped he hadn’t.
Though I wanted to stop myself so he couldn’t have a chance to catch me, I continued. My pussy was pulsing, aching for a sweet release because I hadn’t felt this good in so long. But when Mr. Bryne glanced up at the deck, I froze. Quickly, he glanced back down at the pool, watching the moonlight glimmer off of it, and I rubbed my pussy faster, hoping I could come in the .02 seconds when he looked away. Maybe he hadn’t seen me.
But … he clicked the phone off and looked back up. “Mia,” he said, staring up at the deck. “What’re you doing up? It’s almost three in the morning.”
I leaned forward, trying not to make it obvious that I was indeed touching myself to him out here. “I, um …” I stood up, my nipples pressing against my crop top. I leaned over the edge of the deck, resting my forearms on the ledge. A wind blew again, my loose orange crop top blowing with it. “I couldn’t sleep.”
He paused for a moment, his jaw clenching. He stood directly below, looking up at me. And there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he could see right up my shirt. My pussy tightened even more at the thought of Mr. Bryne seeing me naked and actually enjoying the view.
“Neither could you, huh?” I asked, trying to ease the tension.
He paused for a moment.
“Come down here,” he said.
“Me?” I asked stupidly, my cheeks flaming. “I don’t know—Melissa will probably come looking for me.”
“Come down here,” he said again without giving me room to argue.
I hurried back inside, leaving the deck sliding door ajar, and walked down the stairs to the pool. Mr. Bryne met me at the bottom and handed me a glass of wine. I grabbed it from him, touching his fingers, and followed him to the patio. The mere feeling of his fingers on mine drove me wild, and I sat across from him.
My eyes landed on the pool as I sipped my wine and tried to stop my cheeks from flushing. When I glanced over at him, his eyes flickered to my tits. His jaw tightened, and he looked away, taking a deep breath.
Is Mr. Bryne … checking me out?
I shifted in my seat, trying to suppress the ache between my legs, but with every moment, that ache was intensifying. Maybe he was just wondering why I wasn’t wearing a bra or how I must be so damn cold out here.
His phone buzzed on the chair next to him. He glanced down at it and sipped his wine, sighing through his nose.
“You should get that,” I said quietly.
He turned his phone over and shut it off. “I can’t talk to her again.”
“Her?” I asked.
“Melissa’s mother,” he said, rubbing his forehead.
Melissa spent some time at her mother’s house mainly when we were in high school, but she never brought me, and she never told me what had happened between her parents years ago. All I knew was that one night, Mr. Bryne and Melissa’s mother had gotten into a huge fight, and Melissa had come over to my house, crying.
