Climbing from the guest bed, I went into the bathroom to give my dick time to go down. It’d instantly thickened when I’d seen Greer standing over me, and the ache of it begged for attention. But other than one rough tug on the barbell under the head, I ignored it as I started the shower. I didn’t wait for the water to warm before stepping under the icy barrage.
It should’ve been enough to make it shrivel. Hell, it was so cold, I expected my balls to retreat inside me. Neither happened.
Because thoughts of burying myself in her warmth made me throb as precum leaked.
Fuck.
Am I really that much of a sick bastard to jerk off in the shower while she’s waiting downstairs?
A downstairs that’s apparently trashed.
I couldn’t believe that I’d fucked up the good impression I’d wanted to make. Actually, I could. I had a habit of making shit worse.
Shame sank in my gut, but even that did nothing to lessen my hard-on. I continued ignoring my greedy dick as I quickly scrubbed the night off me, but it didn’t go down.
I guess I really am a sick bastard.
Facing away from the showerhead, the tepid water massaged my back as I gripped my cock. I didn’t go slow. I’d never been about delayed gratification. I’d never had to be. But even if I wanted to, my control wasn’t strong enough. My strokes wererough and frenzied as mini fantasies popped into my head like a pornographic flipbook.
Greer standing over me in bed.
Climbing on top of me.
Sinking down onto the hardness that surged the second I realized it was her.
Her watching me fuck my own hand to thoughts of her.
My palm slapped against the wall next to me as that nearly took my legs out from under me. I sank down onto the built-in bench, the cold stone fighting the heat of my body until the base of my spine tingled.
The door was closed, but that didn’t stop my gaze from shooting to it anyway. Picturing Greer there. Her wide hazel eyes staring at my fist as it moved up and down my length at a blurred speed. Her own hand running over her perky tits. Her stomach. Settling between her legs as she matched my brutal pace.
Imagining her crawling to me. Opening her mouth to flick her tongue over my piercing before…
Fuuuuck.
My orgasm hit suddenly, cum shooting out to paint the dark tile. I slowed as I hung my head back, my breaths short and ragged.
Christ, I’m a fucking prick.
I quickly cleaned myself and the shower before climbing out to wrap a towel around my waist. When I got into the hall, it took me a few seconds to place where I was. I went down a few doorways to my room.
At least I was closer than last time.
After brushing my teeth in my own en suite, I threw on a pair of loose sweats and a t-shirt before starting for the door. At the last second, I turned back and changed into jeans that would make it easier to hide a future hard-on.
Whenit happened, not if.
By the time I got downstairs, Greer was pacing around my kitchen island, pausing every once in a while to swipe at some spot. She looked up at my approach, and I wanted her to smile at me.
I fuckingneededit.
She didn’t. She just held my gaze.
After a few ticking beats, she gestured outward. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“What’s missing? Do we need to call your insurance or just the cops?”
