Nope. I hadn’t seen this coming.
“Ben, are you okay?” Olivia asked. “You’re really quiet tonight and you’re looking a little pale.”
I’m sure I did look pale. All the blood from my face was coursing straight to my cock at the moment. I shot Eve a look, noting the wicked gleam in her eye.
Fuck.
This fucking woman.
“Yeah, Ben. You’re awfully pale. Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need a hand with something?” Eve asked, a damn smirk playing on her red lips.
I cleared my throat, attempting—in vain—to keep thoughts of those plump lips wrapped around my cock out of my head. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”
“Oh yeah? One of those days where things keep unexpectedly popping up?” She shot a quick glance at my crotch.
“Yeah, something like that,” I mumbled, narrowing my eyes in her direction. She released her grip with a mischievous smile, returning her attention to the food on her plate.
The tension went out of my shoulders as I let out a shaky breath.
Olivia glanced between us, looking a little confused. Jack continued eating his fish and chips, studiously ignoring whatever was happening between me and Eve.
I’d be fucking my fist to thoughts of Eve tonight, but at least I wouldn’t have to walk out of here with a hard-on or a cum stain on my slacks.
Sexstruck
Ben
Ben: I can’t believe you tried to give me a handy under the fucking table.
Eve: You started it. And I’m not Isla Fischer in Wedding Crashers... I wasn’t going to finish you at the table in front of our friends.
Ben: Were you planning to finish me somewhere else?
Eve: Hm, no. :)
Ben: Pure evil.
Iloungedonmycouch with a beer in my hand, a pizza in the oven, and a baseball game on the TV. It was finally Friday, and I had spent the last few days since seeing Eve waiting for her to call. I figured if she didn’t phone by Saturday, I’d call and beg like the pathetic, lovestruck loser I was turning into.
No. I wasn’t lovestruck.
I was sexstruck.
That’s what it was.
I was enamored with the idea of having her again. In my bed. On my couch. In my shower. On my kitchen table. We could christen every room in this place. My dick twitched at the thought.
The sound of my phone ringing from the kitchen counter pulled me from my dirty thoughts of Eve. I grunted as I pushed off the couch and hurried to answer before it went to voicemail.
“Hello?”
“Hey, O’Connor.”
Something that had been coiling up tightly in my chest loosened itself at the sound of her voice. I leaned against my kitchen counter, smiling like an idiot.
“I think we’re probably on a first name basis after what we did last weekend. Don’t you think?”
“No,” she shot me down.
