“Like I said.” My heart is hammering in my chest. He’s so close, so damn close. “It’s right there. Take it. Go. Bye.”
His jaw ticks as he shoots me a glare. He bends over, muttering under his breath. I try to sneak a peek of his ass, bending to the side to see, but the towel is still covering it.
“Was it really that hard?” He growls, straightening up, shower bottle in his hand.
“I don’t know, you tell me.” I smirk, unable to resist giving my painfully hard cock a stroke.
We stand there, nearly chest to chest. The tension is so thick it’s nearly suffocating.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” I ask, eyes rolling back as I squeeze my balls, pleasure shooting through me. Fuck, I really need to cum. This little game has gone too far.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters as my eyes flutter open just in time to see him give me one last glare. Mind you, it’s a heated one, and I don’t mean heated in anger. He might hate me, but I know he’s affected by what I’m doing.
And for some reason, I like knowing that I’m getting to him in that way. Not just pissing him off, but turning him on.
“I hate you,” he hisses.
“And I hate you more.” I smirk.
He huffs, shoving his way out of the shower.
I chuckle, tilting my head back into the water, letting the warmth settle over me. I continue to work my cock over until I'm spilling down the drain.
After rinsing, I turn the shower off and reach for my towel.
Only, I remember I didn’t bring one.
“Fucking hell,” I curse, running a hand through my hair, rubbing as much water off as I can. Oh well, I’ll just get dressed wet and use some paper towels or something to dry my hair.
Pulling the shower curtain open, I walk over to where I left my clothes. I didn’t hear anyone else come in, so I should be safe.
“What the fuck?” My eyes widen. Where the hell are my clothes? I left them right there!
Panic starts to set in as I look under the bench and around the area, seeing if they fell off.
Nothing. “Fuck!” I curse. Bennett. That asshole took my clothes, I know it. He’s really gonna play this game? All over some fucking shampoo? Dick.
Anger seeps in as I go over to grab the boxers I was wearing when I came in. I’ll throw those on and go chew out Bennett.
“No.” I groan when I see no boxers anywhere near the shower.
I’m left in here with nothing to cover up. And the fucking bathroom with the showers is on the bottom floor. I’m on the top.
“I’m going to fucking kill him!” I look around the bathroom for something, anything to cover up with. I even debate on using the damn shower curtain, but the idea of having that grimy thing stick to my body makes me want to puke.
Fuck it.
Opening the door, I look around, praying that people are still sleeping because it’s early.
The coast is clear. I step out and bolt for the stairs. I take them three at a time, rage fueling me. When I get to the top floor, I use my hands to cover my junk and make a dash for my room.
Only when I get there, the door is locked. “Stupid asshole,” I hiss. “Bennett, open the damn door!” I yell, banging on the door.
I look around, hoping no one comes out here. When he doesn’t answer, I knock on the door again. “Bennett, I swear to god if you don’t open the door, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“That’s not the way to get me to do anything,” he calls back. “Try again a little nicer, and maybe I’ll open the door.”
“You fucking asshole!” I shout.
