I honestly don’t think I would have stopped if he hadn’t.
It feltgoodbeing that close to someone again.
I didn’t realise how much I missed a man’s touch until I felthis.
I wondered if I had imagined it, but he was hard, so I know he was as turned on as I was. His mouth was so close to mine I could taste him. I press my back against the cool tiles and reach for the vibrator.
I trail my empty hand down my stomach until I reach my wet centre. With slow, deliberate movements, I part myself and begin circling my clit with two fingers. I imagine James’s rough hands running over my skin and kneading my breasts. I picturehim sucking a nipple into his mouth before biting down on my soft flesh. A whimper escapes my lips as I grow slicker.
A low hum echoes off the tiled walls as I click the vibrator on. Pressing it against my clit, I slide two fingers inside myself, relishing the sensation of fullness as I satisfy my craving for James from last night. I can almost feel his eyes on me, spurring me on as I indulge in the fantasy.
My chest rises and falls. The pressure sparks a surge of heat deep within me, spreading through my body and building towards my orgasm.
In my mind, I’m gripping his hair and tugging at the golden strands as I ride his hand. His tongue traces and teases every sensitive part of me. The pressure builds until I can’t hold back, releasing a soft moan as the dam breaks. My body trembles, and I slow my movements, prolonging the pleasure.
Fuck.
I just got off to the thought of James.
After brushing my teeth and blow drying my hair, I collapse onto my bed and bury my face in my hands.
A swell of shame funnels through me, and before I know it, tears begin to fall.
But I can’t give in to self-pity. I can push through this.
I wipe my freshly scrubbed cheeks and head to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. Cradling the hot mug, I lean against the counter and take calming sips.
My phone rings, snapping me out of my relaxed state.
Setting my drink down, I cross the room to the coffee table, grabbing my discarded clutch and fishing out my phone. A smile tugs at my lips when Gemma’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hey!” I answer.
“Are you awake?” she asks.
I laugh under my breath. “Obviously.”
“Okay, great. Can you open the door?”
“What? Are you here?”
“No, I’m hanging out with Rose and Gary,” she says sarcastically. “Yes, I’m here.”
I end the call with a soft chuckle, slipping my phone into my pocket as I head to the door. When I open it, I find Gemma standing there, balancing a tray of three coffees in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other. “Let me in, my nipples are threatening to cut cloth!”
I step aside and reach for the tray of coffees. “Here, let me.”
“No, no, I’m all good,” she insists.
“Three coffees?” I ask as she follows me into the kitchen, the fresh brew filling the room with a delicious aroma.
“Anna’s on her way,” she shoots back, hobbling behind me. I look at her ankle, wondering about the story behind the limp, but I hold back the question and instead turn my attention to setting plates on the counter.
“I was just making a drink. I could’ve offered you a coffee,” I tell her.
Gemma sets the tray on the kitchen island, sliding a paper cup in my direction, “Ew, no thanks. You drink that instant crap—I’m not poisoning myself with that.”
“Let’s be real. You’ve let much worse things inside your body,” I retort, raising a brow. “You’re a total coffee snob. But thank you for the cappuccino. You’re my hero.”
