But then, just when I’d convinced myself to be honorable, I would remember the way she’d kissed me, the way her tongue had played with mine, the way her arousal spiked in response to me. And I’d groan and bury my face under a pillow again.
I needed an outlet, like going for another hard run. But the ache in my knee told me it would rain tonight, and so I stayed in my room like a coward, not wanting to sneak past her.
Eventually, Stevie fell asleep on my couch. Even from my bedroom—my empty, lonely bedroom—I could hear her gentle breathing, knew the moment she finally drifted off. I was now safe to tiptoe into the bathroom and wash up…
But I was ambushed.
Not by Stevie, but by her panties.
My gaze locked on them as I shut the bathroom door, and my mouth went dry. When she’d taken her shower, she must have washed her underwear—fuck, she reallydidn’thave enough luggage, did she?—and hung them to dry over the towel rack.
It was as if I had no control over my body.
My hand reached for that scrap of fabric, and I pulled it across my palm. They were simple cotton, a pale blue, nothing sensual or remarkable…except they werehers.
I knew it was wrong to fondle them like this. But I lifted them, caught her scent…and was lost.
With a low growl, I ripped open my fly with my other hand.
The panties were still just slightly damp, and I could imagine it was from her cunt. My palm wrapped around my desperate cock, and I pumped myselfhard—half in need, half disgust—as I pressed that scrap of cotton to my mouth.
I couldtasteher on them.
I could taste Stevie on my lips, my tongue. I inhaled the scent of her sweet cunt, faintly underlying the smell of the soap she’d used to wash the underwear, and frantically jerked on my cock.
Inside my chest, myKteerhowled like a caged animal, and my heart beat a frenetic tattoo against my ribcage.
I needed this. I neededher.
My palm spread the cotton across my jaw, my nose. Each breath wasStevie, each heartbeat wasStevie. My cock ached for the release I’d been denying it since she showed up on my doorstep.
And then, unable to help myself, I allowed my lips to part, my tongue to slide across the gusset of her panties. The taste of her cunt, so faintly, exploded across my tongue?—
With a grunt, my cock followed.
My seed shot across the sink, more spilling with each pump. I couldn’t stop stroking myself, no more than I could stop tastingher. I continued to jerk my cock long after I’d finished coming, until I realized I was only torturing myself.
Still, I stood there for a long while, just inhaling Stevie’s scent, as shame slowly cooled my arousal.
I don’t know how long it was before I wrestled control of myself away from my instincts and hung her panties back on the towel rack. I tucked my cock back, then scrubbed the bathroom sink and counter…but it did nothing to alleviate the roil of confused feelings in my stomach. Shame, need, anger, desperation…
How the fuck I fell asleep, I couldn’t tell you.
I slept poorly.
Or maybe it was because I woke up each time I heard a sound from my living room; Stevie sighing in her sleep or rolling over or something.
Or maybe it was because I felt…itchy. Not at home in my own skin. My stomach was in knots, my heart beating too hard.
At around four in the morning, I gave up trying to sleep. I lay there, staring at the rain pattering against the dark window, my forearm going numb beneath my pillow, wondering how I was going to get through the next few hours.
Making Stevie breakfast; I could manage that. Making small talk; less easy. Putting her in my SUV and drivingher all the way to Raleigh without doing something stupid like dragging her into my lap and confessing I wanted to bury my face in her cunt?
That was going to be a fuck of a lot more difficult.
Something like that… Tasting her pussy was whatIwanted, not whatshewanted. Hendricks had been counting on me being a weak-willed male, who would take what he offered…
The little whimper from the living room kept me from going through the argument yet again, and I frowned, focusing my senses on Stevie. Another whimper, and…was that a hitched breath?
