Ugh, I’m so screwed, and not even in the way I want to be. I’ve got it bad for this man, and I think it’s time I admit that to myself.
“Fine,” I sigh, pretending like it’s a big concession. “Watching fit men pound a rubber ball for a few hours is better than any reality TV, I guess.”
I see a muscle twitch in Caleb’s jaw and snicker to myself. So maybe he’s not completely immune to me.
We watch the Knicks game at the Garden from the comfort of my couch until I start dozing off with my tea mug in my hands. I feel Caleb gently take it from me and blink my eyes open.
“Why don’t you head to bed?” he asks quietly.
My cheeks warm up instantly. It just feels so… boyfriendly. Like I’ll go to bed, and he’ll come once the game’s over. Maybe he’ll wake me up by pressing against me and…
“Yup!” I say, hopping up and making him lean back in surprise. “Good night,” I chirp, high-tailing it out of there without even waiting for his reply. When did I become this awkward?
My heart’s still pounding from my fantasies while I’m brushing my teeth, and for long minutes after I wrap myself up in my duvet, it’s Caleb’s dark eyes I see when I close my eyes.
4
CALEB
Bet you jerk off watching her sleep.
Fucking Ethan Kane. I can’t get his dumb fucking words out of my head. They’re on a loop like a broken CD.
… jerk off watching her sleep… watching her sleep… watching her?—
“Fuck,” I hiss, setting my beer down on the coffee table with a thud.
I need to take a shower and take care of this boner before I do something stupid, like telling her that the gray suit she wore today really brought out the gold in her hair. And how much I want to rip it off her body.
After turning off the TV, I double-check the locks. I should make sure Basia is alright too. It’s something I do a few times a night since I started sleeping on her couch. Not an anomaly. Nothing unusual.
But somehow, I find myself standing at the foot of her bed. Fucking watching her sleep. I haven’t allowed myself this before, knowing I’m like an addict and it’s my gateway drug. How long can I just watch her sleep, not touching her, not… claiming her?
My breathing grows deeper the longer I stand there. Her face is illuminated by thin lines of moonlight slipping through the slats of her blinds. She looks so innocent in her sleep—younger than her thirty-two years—and far too good for the likes of me.
I’m a washed-out Green Beret. They pinned the fallout from a bad call on my shoulders, and like a good grunt, I carried it. Rebuilding my reputation after that took a hell of a lot of work. The list of satisfied ultra-wealthy, ultra-powerful clients is a long one.
And yet, I feel like my hands are too dirty to touch an angel like her. She’s an Ivy League princess. I’m the bastard son of two nobodies. But despite that… I want her so fucking bad. More than I ever wanted any woman before.
I don’t even know when I moved closer. It’s like I’m in a fugue state, operating in a dreamlike haze. The backs of my knuckles hover over her soft cheek before I pull my hand back and clench my fist.
Basia makes a soft moaning sound, and that’s when I realize I’m harder than granite. My cock spurts precum into my pants in reaction, soaking the tented fabric.
For months, I resisted the pull, kept a professional distance. But she’s asleep. She’ll never know I’m here and so fucking hard up for her that my zipper feels like it’s lowering on its own.
I almost groan in relief when my dick is freed from its prison. My hand’s wrapped around the base before the object of my obsession takes another deep breath, and I throw my head back, stroking myself from top to bottom with firm, rough pulls.
Basia’s eyelashes flutter, but her breathing is deep and slow, and I know she’s sleeping soundly. Wonder what kind of dreams a girl like her has. Untainted. Unsmeared by the filth of life I know so well. The urge to dirty her up is overwhelming.Arousing.
I take another step closer and widen my stance, reaching down to tug on my balls.
The depraved things I want to do to her… skullfuck her until she passes out from lack of oxygen. Take her ass so hard she feels the imprint of my cock for days. Tie her arms above her head and mark her unblemished porcelain skin with a flogger until every inch of her, every red mark, screams that she’s mine.
Pulses of electricity zap down my spine with every new fantasy, and I can feel myself hurtling toward a monstrous orgasm that’s going to blow the top of my dick off when it erupts.
“You’re mine, darling,” I whisper. “Mine to protect. Mine to corrupt.”
Two more strokes and my hips thrust forward. In the last moment, I cover my cockhead with my palm, intercepting the blasts. I clench my jaw hard to keep my growls down as I unload months of pent-up tension into my hand, wishing it were Basia’s sweet body I was filling up.
