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I strip and get in.

My dick is rock hard: it has been on and off for three days. Maybe it’s being alone. Or all the thinking about having Serena underneath me in her bed in Wyoming. Or the fact she’s only one state away.

One.

Fucking.

State.

I could call her and see if she’ll come over. I could lean against the wall and twirl the phone cord and ask if she’ll climb through the window and show up at my place. Bonus points if nobody sees her. We can get up early enough that nobody notices her going home.

Jesus.

That image makes me smile. I crack my neck and take my dick in my hand. That night, she wrapped her fingers around it. She smiled, biting her lip as she went down. I pulled her hair back and saw God when her soft lips wrapped around the head.

She made a noise, a little mmm. I’ve been thinking about that since then.

I wonder if she’ll just shoot me. That would be easier than trying to figure out why I’m fucked up from a one-night stand. Well, a one-week stand.

I think about her hand around my dick that morning in the shower. How she spat on it and started jerking me off. That was hookup number three in the shower, when we didn’t actually fuck because she gave me the best head of my life. We ran out of time before I could ask for her to let me return the favor.

My hand moves faster.

She was on her knees in front of me. Big eyes, full mouth parting as she leaned in and pushed the head of my cock past her lips. Then, she did this thing. Her tongue swirled in a slow circle, and her lashes fluttered, eyes rolling. Like I was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

Heat travels down my spine. Pleasure builds in my groin.

She kept eye contact as she wrapped her hand around me and—

Oh fuck, I’m done. I come hard, hand planted on the wall. Ropes of cum hit the dark marble walls and slide down, washing into the drain.

That could have been inside her pussy.

My brain clears very slowly. I don’t think I’ll rise out of this fog until I have one more chance with her. In fact, maybe I should call her.

Right now. Just do it.

My heart picks up even faster. I turn off the shower, towel dry quickly, and go to where my phone is charging. She gave me her number, but I’ve never used it. My tongue is bone dry. I swallow and clear my throat, so I don’t choke. It takes me two tries to bring up her contact and hit the message button.

What do I say?

I shouldn’t do this.

Stomach sinking, I drop the phone on the bedside table and go back to the bathroom. In the mirror is my stupid face. Out of nowhere, I’m really fucking mad at myself. Why am I like this? Why does everyone get their time on stage, but I’m always standing just out of sight, tucked in the dark curtains? I know why, and it has everything to do with me and nobody else.

I go back to the phone and send a text: One more time?

My temples start sweating. I take a beat and stare at the message, wondering if she has her read receipts on. Then, I drop the phone and go get dressed. It’s done. I sent it, and there’s nothing I can do now.

It buzzes.

Panicked, I do a loop around the room before picking it up. Goddamn it, it’s a promotional text. I swipe it away, and my phone buzzes again.

My heart stops.

It’s her.

Who is this? she shoots back.