“You were. You were totally spanking it!”
“Shut up! It’s my place and why I shower in the middle of the night is my business!”
"Yeah, I get it. You're too uptight to do it in your room in case I hear." Tenley is much smarter than she looks. Like she's impossible to lie to. She figures out everything. Tate said she minored in criminology or something and her favorite class was advanced interrogation. "So did you get the job done, Nash? Or did the fire alarm interrupt your little midnight masturbation marathon?"
“Rule number five. You need to sleep in actual clothes.” I change the subject entirely.
She shakes her head, her golden hair swirling around her shoulders. It's wavy tonight. She let it air dry after her shower, I think because I didn't hear a hair dryer. "I'll wear whatever the hell I want, Nash-Hole."
“I can basically see your breasts and your…” I glance down again.
“Say it. I dare you.”
“You and your fucking dares.”
She grins. It’s smug. She steps closer. “I dare you to admit I’m right. You were jerking off.”
I growl.
“I win.”
She turns to walk back down the stairs but I take two steps, grab her wrist, and spin her to face me. Now we’re an inch and a half apart instead of a foot. I look down at her, my breathing heavy. She’s blinking up at me. The sparkle in her eyes is now a glimmer of something deeper. Darker. “I was trying to jerk off in the shower. I’m not like other players. I need to fuck before a game. I can’t now. Because of you. And you’re right. I didn’t want you to hear.”
“Oh.”
"And it's not helping me at all that I can see those perfect little tits of yours and that sweet looking…" I swallow. Fuck it. "That sweet-looking cunt."
She gasps. It's one of those good gasps like the kind girls make when you enter them for the first time.
Holy fuck this is insane. We hate each other. I step away from her. Turning, I head back into the bathroom and gently but firmly close the door as I hoarsely bark out, “Go to bed.”
I don't hear anything for a few minutes and then there's the gentle slap of her bare feet on the stairs as she retreats to her makeshift room. I give up on fighting the thoughts in my head and I lean on the closed bathroom door, drop my towel, and wrap my hand around my cock. I start to stroke it, my mind picturing Tenley's face—her mouth open but finally with no sound coming out of it—as I slip my fingers into those lace panties and find her soaked. And then, in my brain, she's on her knees with my dick in her mouth and I've got my hands fisted in her wheat-colored hair and I'm… coming. I am fucking coming.
I try to stifle my groan of relief as my release hits my stomach, and my hand, and drips onto the towel at my feet. Panting, I clean up, run through the shower again, without steam, and walk to my bed naked. Fuck it. She's seen it all now. I don't have to worry about stupid pajamas.
I crawl into bed and scrub my face with my hand. The release has finally melted away all my tension. The physical release and probably the mental one too, as I finally—for the first time since I met her—allowed myself to fantasize about my personal nightmare. I close my eyes, roll onto my side, and start to drift toward sleep.
But then I hear something.
Faintly.
A moan?
I open my eyes and lift my head slightly off the pillow.
Another moan. Soft. Faint. Breathy.
Is she… no. She isn’t. She wouldn’t.
A moan followed by another right on top of it and a small, satisfied cry.
Holy shit. She is. She did.
Tenley Garrison just masturbated in my guest room.
And now I’m rock hard again.
Chapter 10
