I step beneath the hot water, panties still in hand, and throw my head back as I start to jack myself.
With every stroke, I picture Tally.
Her tits. Her pussy. Those damn lips that have me half smiling before she even says a word. Her smart mouth that I want to fuck. Lick. Kiss.
Shit.No. This is about sex. About getting off. I jam my palm, the one holding her panties, against the wall. They grow wetter, and I focus on that. On the color they’d be if she was still wearing them. Wet with her desire for me.
I roll my finger over my tip and then thrust into my hand, faster still.
Then it’s her eyes I see. An amber sun. The color of a spring meadow.
And with the thought of those warm, beautiful eyes of hers staring up at me, I come all over the goddamn wall.
—
I walk into the kitchen to find Tally in front of the stove, flipping breaded chicken in a frying pan. She’s in another pair of spandex. Tonight’s are a deep green, and the crop top she wears is black, exposing her smooth skin, which I know smells as good as it looks.
“Did you have a good shower?” she coos, a flirty lilt to her tone.
When I don’t reply, she looks over her shoulder, catching me staring at her tantalizing curves. “Stop growling with your eyes.”
“How does one growl with their eyes?” I ask, even though I know precisely what she’s saying. I’m like a hungry bear, desperate for a taste of her.
The shower did nothing to satiate me.
She ignores my question and grabs a spoon to stir the tomato sauce that is simmering beside the frying pan. My stomach rumbles again as I realize she’s making me something Italian. Why do I like that she went to the store and thought of me? Why do I like that she’s preparing a mealforme?
It feels personal. Like a da—
“My mom and sister are coming for dinner.” She cuts off my train of thought, dashing my excitement in the process. “I texted to tell you, but apparently you don’t read them, so now here I am”—she glances at me over her shoulder again—“telling you.”
I grunt as I reach into my pocket, pull out my phone, and ignore the ten new texts from random numbers to pull up our chat.
TALLY:Chicken parm work?
TALLY:Well since you didn’t reply that’s what we’re having.
TALLY:My mom and sister are joining us for dinner. I hope that’s okay.
TALLY:K cool. Good talk.
TALLY:If you’re done playing with your stallion, go find some other cowboy things to do. I’m doing cowboy things in the bedroom.
“My stallion?” I shake my head. “What the fuck Tally? This is not how you tell someone that you’ll be naked in their bedroom.”
She smirks. “Mybedroom.”
“That I’m staying in. Listen, if you want your room back—”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t go being all chivalrous now.” She stirs the sauce and rests the wooden spoon on top of the pot. “I’m fine in Penny’s room. No sense in having you move out for the short time I’ll be here.”
That is precisely the reminder I need. That she’s leaving.
I walk toward the fridge to grab a beer. “Want one?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll open a bottle of wine.”
“I’ll do it.” The wine is in the dining room so I grab glasses, the bottle, and an opener and set them all on the table, which Tally has already set. I pour one glass and bring it back to the kitchen, red wine sloshing as I hand it to her. “Thank you for making dinner.”
