My hips bucked against the wand, desperate for more, but it still wasn’t enough. A frustrated groan escaped my lips as I opened my eyes, adjusting my position. I spread my legs wider, grinding harder against the relentless buzz, chasing that deeper, harder release. The slick heat between my thighs made every movement more intense, but the ache inside me only grew sharper.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
I should’ve grabbed the dildo—the thought of something thick and deep filling me soaked me. My body was screaming for it, the empty pulsing inside me begging to be satisfied.
As I adjusted, ready to lose myself again, a smallclickechoed through the room, and my head snapped toward the door.
25
austin
I couldn’t sleep. My body was physically drained—I couldn’t remember the last time I’d played a full game—but my mind wouldn’t shut off. I never liked taking sleeping pills; in fact, I avoided prescribed meds altogether. Years of addiction had made me wary of anything that could pull me into that darkness, which was why it had been such a battle to take even the medications doctors had prescribed to help with my recovery.
Every time I closed my eyes, thoughts of Charlie crept in. She’d sacrificed so much for me. Sure, I’d married her to help keep her mother off her back, but I was selfish—asking her to kiss me, knowing there was a risk her family could see something on social media before she had a chance to tell them herself. That selfishness gnawed at me, keeping me wide awake.
And then there was the other reason I couldn’t sleep: the way my body reacted to her. The memory of her lips, soft and pink, pouting slightly, or the way she’d sucked the ranch off that carrot before taking a bite—it had me completely on edge. My doctors had warned me about side effects from the antidepressants, like a lower libido, and honestly, over the past few years, sex had barely crossed my mind. I hadn’t wanted anyone, hadn’t felt that pull.
But with Charlie? It was different. My entire body came alive thinking about her. I’d loved my ex-wife, found her attractive, and our sex life had never been a problem. But this? With Charlie, it felt deeper. Maybe it was because of the friendship we were building or the way she saw me for who I was now, not who I’d been. Whatever it was, it made the connection between us feel stronger, more real. That thought alone had me burning with desire, wide awake, and utterly restless.
Either way, I needed to sleep. Tomorrow was packed, between work in the afternoon and being there for Charlie when she finally told her mom. I couldn’t afford to be a zombie for any of it. I shifted restlessly, tossing and turning, my mind refusing to quiet. Desperate for a distraction, I tried to mentally map out the room, describing every detail to myself—the faint glow of the alarm clock, the pattern of shadows on the ceiling, the worn edges of the furniture. Maybe I’d bore myself to sleep.
I let out a sigh and stared up at the ceiling, trying to picture the room in as much detail as possible. The cream-colored furniture stood out against the soft gray walls, the smooth surface accented by intricate wooden details—curved legs, carved handles. The whole space had this old-school charm.
My thoughts drifted to Charlie. I imagined her rearranging the furniture, determined as ever, her hair pulled back, a few loose strands clinging to her damp skin. She’d pause to bend over, her thick thighs flexing as she adjusted something heavy. The image in my mind shifted, her chest rising and falling with effort, a light sheen of sweat catching the soft glow of the overhead light, trailing down between her?—
“Fuck,” I groaned, scrubbing my hands over my face.
My body wasn’t restless anymore; it was screaming for release. I clenched my eyes shut, forcing myself to think of anything but her.
And that’s when I heard it.
It was faint at first, barely audible over the hum of my own breathing. A low, steady buzzing sound. I opened my eyes and scanned the room.
A bee?
I sat still, waiting, listening.
There it was again. The same soft buzz, rhythmic, almost deliberate.
It wasn’t a bee.
I stayed utterly still, the realization sinking in as the sound continued, its quiet persistence stirring something deep and primal within me.
“Charlie,” I whispered.
I pulled off the covers and adjusted the bottom of my boxer briefs. The house was much hotter than I was used to at night, so I’d been sleeping in my underwear. I looked down, and I was rock fucking hard already.
“Fuck,” I groaned as I ran my fingers through my hair.
It was simple: I’d take a shower. Walk down the hall, turn the water on hot, and get myself off until the buzzing finally stopped.
I took a step forward.
I could do this.
Another step, and I carefully opened the door to the bedroom, exposing the dark hallway. The floorboards creaked beneath me, and I froze, straining to hear if the sound had stopped.
Nope. The buzzing was still there.
