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When she sent me a hard glance, I cringed and admitted, “Okay, maybe not. Why…why exactly did you do that? Was it like an academic curiosity? Trying to take notes for future ideas?”
“Oh my God,” she moaned covering her face with both hands. “I was not taking notes.” Then she whimpered to herself, “This is so freaking embarrassing.”
I nodded, respecting that. It was pretty freaking embarrassing for me too. I mean, I was the unsuspecting star of her porn film. This wasn’t something I dealt with every day. But strangely, I wasn’t mad at her. I just wanted to stop her tears and make her happy again.
Trying to go light, I snapped my fingers, coming up with a new idea. “You were gathering new material for your spank bank.” Then I frowned at that term. Girls couldn’t rightly call it a spank bank, could they? “Or whatever you females call your version of it.”
Another hard glance shifted my way. “I do not masturbate. That’s disgusting.”
My eyebrows popped up in surprise. “You don’t? Really? Like not ever?” How strange. I assumed all girls flicked the bean just as much as guys jerked off.
But Bailey’s eyes widened in horror as she yelped, “No! Oh my God. That’s gross. Why would I even try that if the one guy I’d ever been with couldn’t even get me off?”
That was a bit too much for me to process all at once, so I lifted a finger and drew in a breath before saying, “Wait a second.” Then I exhaled before shaking my head. “I thought it was harder for a dude to get a girl off than it was for a girl to get herself off.”
Bailey opened her mouth as if she had every intention of arguing my point, but then she paused and frowned, tipping me a sideways glance. “Well, how the hell am I supposed to know that if I’ve never masturbated before?”
“Good point,” I said, only to shrug and suggest, “Maybe you should try it then before making such rash statements.” When she merely blinked at me, I grinned. “Hey, that was why you took the video, wasn’t it? It really was spank bank material.”
“It was not!” she cried indignantly. “There’s no way the ugly heifer sounds Melody were making would ever turn me on enough to do that to myself.” She flushed, looking uncomfortable and perplexed and irritated all at once.
“So you were filming her as some kind of blackmail to embarrass her?” I guessed.
“Blackmail?” Bailey wrinkled her nose. “Why the hell would I have wanted to blackmail or embarrass her? I didn’t know her then; I didn’t care what happened to her after she left that room. It was you I was focusing on. And I was trying to take a picture, not a video, anyway,” She reiterated with a sniff, sending me a scowl for even suggesting the ideas I had suggested.
But I was too caught up on the other thing she’d said. “Me?” I repeated dumbly. “Why were you focusing on me?” My cheeks went hot. “Oh, hell? Did I look that bad, coming?” Had she wanted to embarrass me?
“No!” she practically yelled. “You looked amazing. That was the point. You looked so beautiful, it was like…” And then she fell quiet and her mouth popped open as if she’d just realized what she’d confessed before she whispered, “Art.”
I swallowed. It was the only thing I could think to do to control the immediately reaction that sizzled through me. But my dick thickened so quickly in my pants it was freaky and embarrassing. I fisted my hands to keep from reaching for her and to control the intense images sweeping through me. Images of Bailey slipping her fingers down between my legs and stroking me through my jeans or maybe unsnapping the top button and easing her palm inside. I kind of wanted to thunk my head back against the tile wall of the bathtub and groan as if I could already feel her warm fingers wrapping around me and stroking.
But she was the one who moaned. In supreme humiliation. “Oh my God,” she muffled out from between her fingers where she was covering her entire face with both hands. “I can’t believe I just told you that.”
“Bailey, no,” I tried to reassure her. Without thinking, I touched her thigh with the sole intent to being kind and comforting. “Don’t…” I wanted to tell her not to worry about something like that. I was actually flattered she’d thought I had looked like art. So fucking flattered. And turned on. But when my palm met the warmth soaking through the material of her jeans, the urge to caress her struck me hard. I mean, I think my fingers even started to move, curving around to the inside of her thigh. They wanted to move up toward her heat and cup her right between the legs.
It was so wrong and inappropriate, and I felt so guilty for almost doing just that, that I jerked my hand off her and sucked in a breath, my lungs seizing and oxygen stalling.
I couldn’t fucking breathe at all. My body panicked. My mouth gaped like a fish out of water, and my hand slapped against my constricting chest.
Oh, God. I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t breathe.
Bailey noticed, glancing at my face before her eyes widened. “Dammit,” she muttered, turning toward me and gripping my shoulders. “You’re having another panic attack. Just breathe. Beck. Breathe through it.”
I shook my head, squeezing her hands that were still holding onto my arms. “Can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” she argued. “Now breathe out.”
Looking her straight in the eye, I exhaled. When she demanded I inhale, I did that next. She coached me through the next few breaths until we both realized I was better.
Except as soon as I was better, she let go of me and stood abruptly, hugging herself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to creep you out to the point you had a panic attack.”
She tried to step past me to leave the bathtub. But I couldn’t let her go, couldn’t let her think my breakdown had come from disgust.
I grabbed her arm, staying her. “No.” Then I stood, shaking my head. “That’s not why I freaked out.”
But she wouldn’t look me in the eye. She tried to pull free of my arm, not listening, too embarrassed to hear me out.
