I stroke my cock faster, sliding my hand from the tip to the base.
Do not come, Mateo.
Whatever you fucking do.
Do not come.
I don't know where she's going with this, but I want to find out.
I don't take my eyes off her as I jerk myself. She doesn't look at me, but her body is tense, and every time I let out a noise, she swallows. She's struggling, and it turns me on even more knowing this gets her as bothered as it does me.
Fuck, I need to stop. I loosen my grip and inhale sharply.
"If you come right now, I'm going to drive past my apartment."
I peel my eyes from her and look out the window as she pulls into her driveway.
She parks and gets out without saying a word. She doesn't look back to see if I'm following, she doesn't need to. I climb the stairs behind her with care, partly because of my knee, but mostly because my cock needs to cool the fuck down before I walk into her place.
But her ass in those jeans is not helping.
By the time I make it into her apartment and close the door behind me, she's taken her jacket off and is leaning on her bedroom doorframe, one hand on her hip.
She watches as I remove my own jacket and then my shirt. I toss both on her couch and remain where I stand.
"You can kiss me now," she says. She pushes off the door frame and kicks off her sneakers.
I follow suit and take a tentative step forward. And then another. Her chest rises.
The pounding of my heart isn't frenzied. It's calm, collected. Steady like a reliable clock.
Tick.
Tock.
She meets me halfway.
Her fingers thread through my hair, and I groan against her lips.
She met me halfway.
My revelation the other day smacks me in the gut.
I love her.
And loving her allows me to be vulnerable, to seek out things I've never felt comfortable with before. NDA or not, I never trusted the women I fucked in my past. But Jade and I aren't just fucking. Friends with benefits was never meant to work between us.
She tugs at my lower lip as she breaks our kiss. "Do you want to know what I think about when I touch myself?" she asks.
I nod, but don't speak.
"You." She chuckles, and my ego plummets. "It's always fucking you. Even before this, us." She smiles. "I was doomed the second that butterfly fluttered into fucking view."
It's my turn to laugh.
Half fucking way.
The words are on my lips, but they taste bitter. I know they mean nothing, not like this. Not when we're hidden away. So I keep them to myself.
