Page 43 of Don’t Be A Stranger

“I’m a chick whisperer.” River tries to defend himself.

“You”—I point at River—“are not a chick whisperer. And you”—I point at Moose—“should’ve known because Beth hasn’t shut up about it for the past week.”

Moose’s eyes widen and he quickly shoots up from the recliner. “Oh shit, I do remember talking about making plans. I have a lot of making up to do.”

Moose is already bringing his phone to his ear and walking toward his room, the door closing with a click. River and I are alone once again. Well, as alone as we can be with his roommate begging his girlfriend for forgiveness in the other room.

“So, about that shower…” I remain in my spot, not moving any closer but I do twist the hem of my shirt between my fingers and nudge the pillow that’s still on his lap.

River smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes and my heart sinks immediately. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not with Moose here.”

The words hit me harder than I know they should. This was part of our deal after all. No one is supposed to know.

“Okay.” I try my best to smile and act like it doesn’t feel as if he just stabbed me in the chest. “I’m going to head to bed then.”

“Goodnight, Sum,” River calls out to me but I’m already grabbing my pajamas from his room and walking into the only bathroom in this apartment.

I’ll admit that I start the shower and rip my clothes off with a bit more disappointment and attitude than necessary, and maybe I even stand underneath the lukewarm water with my arms crossed. I’m almost tempted to just storm back into the living room and show River what he’s missing.

But I don’t.

Instead, I find myself reaching for River’s body wash, squirting some over my breasts and rubbing it in to create suds that travel down my body. I let myself be engulfed in nothing but his scent. The bottle in my hand is quickly replaced with the showerhead.

I know this probably isn’t a good idea but I can’t help it. I have a one-track mind right now that only seems to revolve around River’s touch. Touching myself in a bathroom that isn’t even mine should deter me, but this is honestly the most privacy I’ve gotten since moving to Ellingbrook.

We don’t necessarily get our own showers on campus. The communal bathrooms at Kingswell are nice. They offer enough privacy instead of just a lousy curtain, but I still don’t find myself spending more than ten minutes in there. Thirty if I have to shave. And I’m definitely not going to touch myself with other girls coming in and out of the bathroom.

I lift my leg to rest along the edge of the tub and reach between my thighs with my free hand, spreading myself open. I press the showerhead to my clit and immediately slap a hand over my mouth. The last thing I need is for Moose to know what I’m doing in here. I mean, I don’t mind River hearing and deciding to come and join me, but Moose? Not so much.

I chew on my bottom lip so hard I’m convinced I’ll draw blood. The pressure feels incredible and yet not enough. Not when I know what River feels like.

Against me.

Inside of me.

I grip one of my breasts, imagining River’s mouth on me. His hot breath against my neck. The compact space in the back of his car and how it left us no choice but to remain cramped together. It was perfect and this…this showerhead and my hand aren’t enough.

I’ve only been with him once. How can River possibly make it so that I can’t satisfy myself on my own? I need more. I need him.

I abruptly pull the showerhead away from me. Frustrated and angry at the man sitting in the living room, oblivious to me trying desperately to get myself off. This is stupid and ridiculous. Now I want nothing more than to either shove Moose out of his own apartment or tell River to get his ass in the shower, not caring what noises either of us make.

But fine whatever, I’ll go lie in bed with the space between my thighs still throbbing.

I wash up, rinsing off River’s body wash but fortunately—or unfortunately depending on how I look at it—the scent lingers. When I’m dressed in my own pajamas, I steal a glance down the hallway to see the lights are now off in the living room. I don’t bother with saying goodnight because I know that if I went in there, I might just say screw it.

I force my feet in the opposite direction of the living room, walking into River’s bedroom. Once in bed, I twist and turn and now I’m staring up at the ceiling.

I’ve never been this desperate. Sex is nice and all, but I’ve always had other things to focus on. I’ve never needed it this badly. I’m like a damn dog in heat. But apparently it doesn’t bother me that much because I’m sitting up on my knees, snatching one of River’s pillows and shoving it between my thighs, now straddling it.

This is actually worse than using the showerhead but I’ll feel guilty about it later.

The first grind of my hips against the pillow is hesitant, like maybe I can talk myself out of this, but I can’t. My fists clench around the pillow, holding it in place. I change my pace, shift my angle, even picture River being the one underneath me. But it’s still not enough.

I drop my face into the sheets, whining in frustration. I just want River’s hands on me. His mouth. His moans. I’m sure if he just sat right across from me, I could touch myself to the sight of him.

Or…even just his voice.

My hand shoots out toward the nightstand and I reach for my phone, moving in desperation as I scroll and click on River’s caller I.D.