“By you not knowing who fingered you in the clubhouse.” I clear my throat. “Which kind of pisses me off, by the way, that you’d let a stranger do that to you.” Christ, in her mind, it could have been anyone. It makes me murderous to think about.
“Jack,” she says, her tone curt, “you don’t have a single leg to stand on with that bullshit.”
I duck my head. “I know I don’t. I just hate how fucking crazy jealous you make me feel, even when I don’t have the right to put a single claim on you. I knowyou’re with Ace now, and that you have feelings for Rook. I even see how Ghost is when you’re around, and how the fuck can I blame him?” I blow out a breath and drag my hand through my hair. “It all messes with my head so badly because I want you, but I know I can’t have you.”
Her voice is breathy. “You can have me, Jack. It doesn’t change how I feel about the others, but you can have me, too.”
I hold her stare. “You know I can’t, and you know why. Nothing has changed.”
She gives the briefest of nods and drops her chin. But she isn’t done with me yet. “What did you do? After you made me come in the clubhouse?”
My cock hardens and lengthens at the memory. Can she see the effect she has on me?
“I went home and jacked off. I had you still on my fingers and I put them in my mouth so I could taste you while I came.”
Her breathing changes, her chest rising and falling. She lets out a tiny sound I can’t quite decipher.
“But I can’t go there again, Baby-girl. You need to know that. I’ve been beating myself up for being so fucking weak. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“I’m happy you did. I thought it was you the whole time, but I didn’t know if it was just wishful thinking. At least now I know how it feels to have your fingers inside me. You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted that.”
I let out a growl and cover my face with my hand. “Fuck, Camile.”
“If you won’t touch me again,” she says tentatively, “tell me what you’d do if you could.”
“What?”
She sets down her whiskey glass, and I do the same.
“I mean it, Jack. I want to know. I understand you don’t want to touch me, that you don’t want to step over that line again, but that doesn’t mean you can’ttellme.”
Her words make me tense as I think of all the things I would do to her,withher.
She smiles, and it’s a smile that belongs to a much older, more worldly woman than Camile. “Come on, Jack. What did you picture in your head while you were masturbating with the taste of me on your tongue. I know I’ve thought about you when I’ve been touching myself. I’ve pictured you in my head and all the filthy things you’d do to me.” She parts her jean-clad thighs as though inviting my line of sight to that part of her. “Tell me what you’d do to me, if you could. Would you suck on my nipples? Would you lick my pussy? Would you have me suck your cock?”
The idea of her sweet young mouth wrapped around my huge, pierced dick almost makes me come in my pants. She needs to know exactly what she’d be dealing with, surely? It’s almost a health and safety issue. The girl needs to know what she’d be taking on if she continues this.
Anyway, it doesn’t count, right? If we don’t touch each other. I can still say that a line hasn’t been crossed.
I’d crossed the line at the clubhouse and had felt guilty as sin for it. I’ve tortured myself about it ever since, and the guilt had me suffering God-awful dreams where I’ve destroyed my family, singlehandedly. In the nightmares, my wife stares down at me, judgement in her gaze, as Vani cries softly in the background. I told myself it wouldn’t happen again, and I’ve kept my word, despiteit being torture. But this is different. This is… just a conversation.
“Let me see your cock, Jack. Please. I want to watch you touch yourself. I want to see you come undone.”
“Fuck, Camile. You’re killing me.”
“I won’t touch you, I swear. Just let me watch.”
“Baby-girl…” I groan.
But my dick has grown to an uncomfortable size in my pants. It’s barely contained. If I show her my cock, will she do the same for me? Will she take off her clothes and spread her legs, and let me watch as she presses her fingers inside her tight little pussy? How can a man say no to that?
I unzip my jeans and reach in to pull out my hard-as-nails cock. It’s big enough when it’s not erect, but when it is, it’s a fucking monster.
Camile’s pretty brown eyes go wide, her lips parting in a silent ‘oh’ of shock.
“I’d hurt you with this,” I tell her. “It’s not only for selfish reasons that I’m holding myself back.” It’s the truth, too. I can’t taint her with my darkness. “You’re too young for me, too innocent and sweet.”
“I’m not as innocent anymore.” Her hands go to her jeans, and she lifts her ass and slides them off her hips, toeing off her boots at the same time so she loses the clothing all in one bundle. Then she lifts the hem of her tiny top and pulls it up over her head, her hair swinging free in a dark, shiny sheet. Fuck, she’s so perfect. Sitting there in only her bra and panties. How will I ever get enough of her and sate this obsession when I’m not allowed to touch her?
