Page 57 of Miss Belief

What I needed was an orgasm. And once he left, I’d have plenty of time to take care of things. Thank goodness I’d thought to bring my trusty vibrator along for the trip. I must have known I’d find myself sexually frustrated and in need of a good release.

A few minutes later, the water turned off. When Reid came out of the steamy bathroom, I nearly groaned aloud. He was wearing nothing but his khaki shorts, completely oblivious regarding the way his naked man chest affected me. Had I suggested he hit the gym? Seemed silly now. He was obviously already in terrific shape.

There was something weirdly personal in watching him go through his morning routine of shrugging into a shirt, threading his belt through the loops, and finally sitting on the bed to put on his socks and shoes.

“What will you do today?”

“Mm, sleep in.” After an orgasm. “Maybe hit the gym, then the sauna.” And have another orgasm. “Then I may sit poolside with an ice-cold cocktail to keep me company.” Ellen had given me her cell phone number, so I might see if she could join me.

He flashed me a grin. The type which had me thinking I might need three orgasms to take the edge off.

“I’m jealous of your day. I don’t know how late golf will go, but I’ll text you from the road once we’re on our way back.”

“Take your time and have fun with your friends.”

He stood up. “I forgot how nice it is not to have the pressure of dating.”

Yep. Wouldn’t want that, now, would we?

Once I heard the click of the door closing, I lay back in the bed with a gigantic huff. Yep, I’d been friend-zoned. Again. He’d said how nice it was not to be dating. Yet even if we were dating, I wouldn’t have changed my words. I wanted him to have fun with his friends.

Dammit. I was doing it again. Spinning this fake relationship in my head.

Deciding now was a good time to chase away my unrequited feelings, I jumped out of bed and retrieved the little black satin bag from the zip pocket of my suitcase. I’d charged it before leaving, so it should be ready to go. Taking out the silicone hand-held device, I laid it on the bed while I shimmied out of my sleep shorts and thong. Settling myself on the comfy mattress, I turned the device all the way up to the highest.

What could I say? I wasn’t a patient girl. And as for all the fancy settings? What was the point? Did anyone ever climax to the Morse code setting? Doubtful.

I preferred a straight vibration, so it could happen hard and fast. As I lined up the working end of the small device to my clit, I thought of Reid this morning. Turning to my side, I imagined him behind me now, pushing into me while I used the toy. Would he be turned on by the thought of me masturbating while picturing him—or horrified? Oh, God. The vision of him pumping into me made my legs start to shake and my hips want to move. If only I had the real thing, but no matter. I was on the edge now, pressing the device into me to maximize the vibration.

I was so caught up in my need for the impending orgasm I barely registered the electronic sound of the door opening.

“Sorry, I forgot my wallet—” came Reid’s voice.

I grasped for the bedspread, pulling it up to cover my naked half as I saw him frozen, one step into the bedroom, his face rapidly turning red.

“Shit—I didn’t mean—”

“Sorry—I didn’t know—”

Our frantic words bounced around the room until there wasn’t a sound—except the buzzing.

Shit.

My fingers fumbled blindly to find the switch, only to hit the one that changed the pattern to rapid pulses. Fuck. Finally, I found the button to turn it off.

But still, he hadn’t moved. Hadn’t said another word.

I decided to break the silence in the hope it would also halt the eternal awkwardness and my humiliation, which seemed to be heating up my entire face.

“You forgot your wallet?”

“Uh-huh.” He finally went into motion, stepping toward the dresser and grabbing his black leather wallet. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but I’d wait until after he left to die of embarrassment. “It’s just that after this morning in bed with you curled up to me—” Oh, sweet baby Jesus, what was I telling him?

Abort, abort, abort.

“I meant, it’s fine. I don’t want this to be awkward later.”