The low hum of the machine combined with the rhythmic trickle of water should have put me to sleep right there. I loved the sound of running water, but despite how tired my body was, my brain wasn’t interested in playing along.
It was peaceful out here without Dom breathing down my neck. She didn’t tell us where she was going, which was fine — I didn’t really care what kind of trouble she got into as long as it didn’t involve me.
Still, it was late. And I couldn’t help the thread of anxiety tugging in my chest: where was she staying tonight if not here?
A pang of jealousy shot through my body at the thought of her with someone else.
Childish.
I rolled my eyes at myself. Just because my other two roommates drooled on the floor every time I walked in didn’t mean that she should. I didn’t want her to, anyway.
I didn’twantDom. I just liked the ego boost of thinking she would want me.
But she owed me nothing. And all I owed her was being a nice houseguest.
Pulling my cup away from the dispenser, the babbling water stopped, but a new noise rose in its wake.
Slight murmuring from the living room. A shuffle of clothes or couch cushions.
The hairs on my neck stood as I listened closer. Spencer and Leo had turned in hours ago, hence my own early bed time. And I would have heard Dom’s bike tear down the driveway, which meant…
Could there be an intruder?
As far as I could tell, security beyond the front gate was entirely based on locked doors and pinky promises. And as tall as those fences were, they weren’t impossible to jump. Especially if someone saw the way Dom flaunted her money.
Panicking, I searched the room for a weapon. The knife block was full of chef-grade blades that Dom would kill me for bloodying. But between my wrathful roommate and some masked murderer, I would just have to settle for the devil I knew.
As my hand wrapped around the metal handle, prepared to face her wrath, a new sound stopped me in my tracks.
A groan. Deep and guttural. An attempt at being quiet.
That… doesn’t sound like an intruder.
My chest tightened with a different kind of adrenaline.
I should go upstairs. I should pretend I didn’t hear anything.
But a second groan, deeper, beckoned me down the hall like a siren call. I needed to know who it was,whatit was, or I’d be up all night wondering.
Sliding the knife back into the block, I padded down the hall, back tight to the wainscoted walls.
A soft bluish glow emanated from the living room, dancing along the hardwood floors.
Someone’s definitely awake.
The noise grew slightly louder with each step I took. But it came mostly from the TV: more moans and a rhythmic slapping of skin. It wasn’t until I reached the very edge of the doorframe that I got a view of the screen.
Porn. Two girls going at it. Mouths and dildos and hair gripped tight in strong hands.
My jaw dropped at the sight. I’d only watched stuff like this when I was first getting the urge to touch myself. But even then, I knew it wasn’t for me. It made me feel uneasy, like I’d intrudedon something. Maybe I was just used to seeing more of it, but straight stuff felt a little bit less invasive, a little less scandalous.
Who the fuck is bold enough to watch this in the living room?
It was hard to believe that Leo would be so careless. But would Spencer risk it after the arcade, knowing that I could walk in on her at any moment?
Maybe that’s exactly what she’s hoping for.
Heat bloomed in my cheeks at the thought. For all of her restraint at the arcade, I knew she was desperate for a taste of what I was keeping from her. Both of them were.
