He’s right. I’m too shy and awkward with myself to do something like dancing out on the deck in full view of my neighbor. I don’t like taking up attention that way. But seeing Cubby’s confidence in himself charms me.
My friend turns back toward the house, and I force myself to walk away too, straight to a corner of the yard where I can’t see Cubby.
As soon as Sully takes off in his truck, I hurry my ass into the house and head straight upstairs, to the spare room I use as my own. I’m sweaty and covered in sawdust, but I don’t bother to clean myself before I fall back on the mattress, push my jeans down, and fist my hard dick.
I’ve been horny as hell lately, and just that glimpse of Cubby’s dance was enough to ignite me. I spit in my hand twice, then grab my base and massage slowly up my aching shaft.
My imagination fires rapidly through fantasies and images. Cubby’s warm body wiggling up close to me. The way he’d bounce his hips and ride my dick. The heat in his voice when he demands something or teases me.
It all burns through me. My dick throbs in my hand, and I grunt and curse as I tumble toward an orgasm that takes my breath away.
I’m spent, gasping for breath and dripping cum. The window is cracked, and I can just hear the distant music. All my muscles ache with exhaustion, and somehow, in the clarity of it all, I finally accept it.
I’m going to ask that man out.
* * *
CUBBY
“He’s torturing me!” I throw myself against the back window. “Just look at him! This has to be on purpose, right?”
“I don’t know, Cubby,” Meg says, glancing up from her spot at the counter. “It looks like he’s just working.”
“With his shirt off! In my direct line of sight! After we almost kissed!”
Meg sips her coffee. “I’m still not convinced by that last part. Are you sure you didn’t just get too excited and fall out of the boat?”
“No,” I snap. The chainsaws start up again, the noise buzzing and rumbling across the lake, which gives me an excuse to yell. “I am not sure I didn’t get too excited and just fell out of the boat! Not sure at all, okay?”
“I guess we’re not going to shoot your monologue today,” she yells back. “Too loud!”
I groan and press my cheek against the window. Chase and his friend swing their chainsaws, hacking apart a massive pine tree, which falls almost to the edge of the water. Even from my spot in the house, I can see the contours of his muscles and the sheen of sweat on his back.
“That’s it!” I declare, then turn and march away from the window. “I’m not letting him win.”
“Win?”
“I won’t let him steal my day. We can film the dance interludes, right? New sound will be added in over the video later, so the background noise won’t matter.”
“Good idea. And you’ve got tomorrow’s monologue to figure out still, if we finish on time.”
“Nope,” I say, grabbing the notes from the coffee table. “I woke up early to finish planning. And I worked out the rest of the market research I need for the launch too.” I flash her a toothy smile, proud of myself. “I told you, I’m really not going to screw this up.”
“I know you aren’t, Cubby. You’re just letting off steam. It’s part of your process.”
“Exactly. And since Chase is skilled at giving me exactly enough attention to drive me out of my damn mind, I have lots of steam that needs releasing.”
“Hell, you were this dramatic when they changed the price of your cereal at the grocery store.”
“By an entire dollar! But do I get any more toasted treats? No! Not a one!”
Meg rolls her eyes. “Wardrobe time. Don’t forget to grab the green sheet from your room.”
The dance interludes are going to punctuate transitions in my videos, splitting up the segments. They’re meant to be fun and sexy and silly, a chance to show some self-love instead of just talking about it because honestly, everyone should dance more anyway.
About half an hour later, I’m downstairs and ready to shoot. I’ve selected my shortest pair of athletic short-shorts, pink with purple trim, and a teal T-shirt with a deep V that shows off my chest hair. For reasons of fashion more than function, I’ve topped it off with a matching purple sweatband set, the same color as the stripes on my athletic socks.
I jump down the stairs and do some lunges, throwing my arms back as I warm up. “Dance time! Woot! Woot! Dance time!” I sing out, pumping my arms to the rhythm as I go.
