Page 21 of Holding Penalty

I stand up and stretch. I check the clock and see that it’s two in the afternoon. I’m covered in dried sweat from that sweltering hotel room last night, and the stink of smoke and stale beer clings to me from the bar.

I need a shower.

First, I pour some nutrition pellets into a bowl for Cheesecake. The vets told me it’s fine to give her these as a snack when she visits, so I keep some in my pantry. That’ll keep her busy while I shower. She just got here, and I know she’d put up a fight if I tried to shoo her away already. I’m not in the mood for a struggle with a stubborn capybara.

I let out a relieved breath after stripping out of my clothes and stepping into the warm water of the shower. The heat and steam help with my headache and loosen the knot in my back that developed from sleeping on the hard, uneven motel floor.

I rest my forehead against the sliding glass door, close my eyes, and let my mind wander back to last night.

In the weirdest way … it was kind of fun. Spending a completely unexpected, chaotic night with Piper like that.

I know it’s fucked up to feel that way. The only reason it happened was because something awful happened to her. But I can’t help the light feeling I get in my chest when I think back on it.

But then I remember some of the sad looks in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped, her awkward and worried body language this morning before I left.

Yeah, fuck me for actually thinking back fondly on a night that for her was a disaster. I know what she’s going through, after all. Fun is the last thing it is.

I grab my bar of soap and scrub myself, working up a lather over my muscles.

I wonder how Piper’s doing today.

I wonder if she’s showering off the sweat and nasty bar smell right now like I am.

The thought bursts into my mind like a spear tip, and instantly my groin swells.

I growl in disapproval of myself, scrubbing under my arms as I try to ignore the erection that’s now standing at attention between my legs, throbbing in the steamy air.

I try to distract myself by thinking of something else, like how much practice tomorrow is going to suck if my back is still knotted up like this, but images of Piper keep intruding.

Her soft, glossy hair, and how it felt feathering against my neck. The way a spark of amusement would replace the sadness in her green eyes when I earned an unexpected laugh from her with something I said. Her bare thighs when she sat on the bed and her dress rode up her legs.

Fuck. Heat coils so tightly at the base of my cock that it aches.

I try to chase away the image of her tanned skin and the shape of her thighs, but the sight sticks in my mind like it’s bolted down.

When I turn into the stream of water to rinse the soap off my chest, a jet of water hits the tip of my cock, and I can’t hold my brain back from imagining Piper’s tongue flicking against it with the same amount of pressure.

My teeth clench as arousal thrashes through me. My cock buzzes from base to tip, begging for contact and relief.

I shouldn’t get myself off to thoughts of an engaged woman.

But she shouldn’t be engaged, not anymore. Even if that asshole didn’t actually cheat on her, the fact that he drove away from her on the side of an empty road means he doesn’t deserve her.

A hazy memory jumps into my mind, of us at the bar, when we were both several drinks in and way too buzzed. I said something, I don’t remember what, that made her laugh, and her mouth opened wide enough for me to get a glimpse of her tongue behind her smooth, pink lips.

Fuck it. I can’t pretend this would be my first time fisting my cock in the shower to thoughts of Piper. I did it more often than I’d like to acknowledge when we lived next to each other.

I give myself a slow pump up my solid length. I’m caught off guard by how intense the pleasure that spreads through me is. How am I so keyed up over nothing but memories of a completely platonic night?

But as I start to curl my grip harder around my dick and increase the speed of my hand, the thoughts filling my mind are anything but platonic.

I wonder if she’d be as sassy inside the bedroom as she is out of it. I wonder how her hair would feel curled around my fist, how she’d respond to me tugging on it while she’s on her knees for me—and if she’d pay me back for it later by leaving scratch marks up and down my back.

Curses drop from my mouth as I plant my hand on the glass to steady myself. I can feel the climax swelling inside me already, a ball of pressure expanding at the base of my spine.

I rock my hips, thrusting into my hand, wishing I were thrusting into Piper from behind, that gorgeous fucking dress she wore hitched up to her waist and her panties pulled to the side.

Would I make a fool of myself and race to orgasm as fast as I’m doing now? Or would I be able to bite my cheek and hold off my release until I gave her hers, until I got to hear that smart-ass mouth whine my name in a tone I’ve never heard before but imagined way too damn much when we were in college.