Before I can think too much about how it makes me feel, she slowly inches her fingers to the inside of her thighs, then pulls her T-shirt up higher, as if she’s going to pull it over her head. When all I see are the little spandex shorts she has on underneath, she loops her fingers in the sides and pulls them down her legs. Her oversized T-shirt hides enough that I can’t see her but sits high enough that just the slightest movement would give me a peek.
My cock strains against my jeans.
I wait with bated breath for her to make the next move, but she grins and holds up her phone.
I glance down at the text I didn’t know she sent.
Jesus, is that what she does to me? She pulls me out of reality and into a world where nothing exists but her. It’s terrifying. I know I can’t have her forever, but I want more.
Your turn. This is how it works. I make a move. You make a move.
I read her text three times, nodding the entire time, before tossing it to my bed. I strip my T-shirt off as if my life depended on it.
I keep my eyes trained on Greer to gauge her reaction. She inhales a big breath and bites her bottom lip again.
I raise my brow and grin. I’m convinced that she can read my mind.
Your turn.
Her cheeks flush a little as she, too, pulls her shirt over her head. She’s got on another one of those strappy black lace bras. The sight brings me back to the moment I first saw it that day downstairs. I’ll tell you what, my imagination didn’t do her justice. She looks sexier than I ever dreamed.
Next, I slowly take my belt off, pulling it in one swift motion, the way the heroes do in all my books, and drop my jeans. I see that Greer has moved closer to her window; the moonlight illuminating her even more than before.
I do the same, and when she turns to show me that she’s wearing a thong and gives me a full display of her perfect perky globes of an ass, I can’t help it, I reach right into the front of my boxers and grip myself.
“Fuck,” I say loudly on a groan.
My eyes start to close, imagining that it’s Greer who’s got a hold of me and that she’s the one slowly moving her hand up and down.
As much as I want to keep this image of her, I want to see the real her more. So I open my eyes and catch her doing the same thing I am. Her hand is in the front of her panties and her head is tilted back; her lips parted, displaying the perfect circle.
Fuck this.
With my free hand, I grab my phone and call her.
The noise startles her, but she picks up by the third ring.
“Simon,” she answers in a breathy tone.
“Greer,” I all but growl, “if you think you can make me watch and not touch you, fine, but I’ll be damned if I don’t get to hear the noises you make when you think of me as you come.”
“Okay” is all she says.
“Now, lay on your bed. On the corner where I can still see you.”
She does it.
Fuck all if I’m going to let her continue to stand in her window where anyone but me could see her.
“Good girl. Now, do everything I tell you to do.”
“Simon, should we be doing this?”
“Baby, there is nothing more I want to be doing than watching you right now.”
“I know, but earlier?—”
“Don’t think, Greer, just listen to me and let me make you feel good.”
