Page 71 of Don’t Tie Me Down

She tosses the shirt aside and stands, and my gaze immediately drops to her round, shapely ass, barely concealed by the tiny boy shorts wedged between her cheeks as she saunters toward the deep end of the pool.

I’m such a fucking creep, spying on her like this. I should at least try to conceal myself, but truthfully, I can’t seem to care about that right now. If anything, I wish she’d notice me watching her. That’s what she wants, isn’t it?

I don’t have the bandwidth to unpack how fucked up any of this makes me. I can save the judgment and shame for later, when I’m lying in the dark, alone with my thoughts.

If I’m going to torture myself for this later anyway, then I may as well enjoy myself.

I succumb to the temptation, telling myself that at least this is better than the alternative. It’s not that different from jerking off to her movies, except that, this time, the show is live.

My fingertips slide down the front of my jeans and dip beneath the elastic of my underwear. I suck in a breath when they brush my aching shaft. Fuck, I’m sensitive. Too wound up. Too fucking desperate after days of pent-up frustration with no real release in sight. Getting myself off may help take the edge off, but it doesn’t come close to truly satisfying me.

She dips a toe in the water, steals one more look around the backyard, then dives in.

A moment later, she emerges from the water and wipes her long hair away from her face, then lifts herself onto the edge.

Goddamn, I’m a lucky bastard.

As if she can read my thoughts, her gaze snaps to my window, already knowing exactly where to find me.

My pulse spikes, but I don’t duck behind the curtain.

My fist moves over my thick length, and I pull in a sharp breath, letting myself imagine it’s her hand that’s touching me. Her slender fingers, those red nails, filed into points, pretty and dangerous.

I hold her gaze as I continue stroking myself.

As if in challenge, she holds my stare as she leans back on her elbows, legs parted as she lazily kicks her feet in the warm water.

She knows what she’s doing alright…fucking tease. She’s probably known I was here the whole fucking time.

I imagine all the things I want to do to her, the way I’d tie her up just to edge her with my tongue, torture her with orgasms until she physically couldn’t take any more.

My fist pumps harder, pleasure building at the base of my spine, as I continue fucking my hand.

With her eyes still locked on mine, she arches her back and lets her legs fall wider, sliding her fingers between them. Her head tips back, lips parting on a moan, as her hand moves in slow, tight circles.

“Fuck.” I grit my teeth, feeling myself plummet over the edge, as the hot ropes of my release spill into my hands, splashing against the glass in a mess.

My forehead drops against the cool glass as I heave air into my lungs. Holy fuck, that was hot.