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I pour a little mouthwash into a dixie cup and hand it to her. She swooshes the liquid around and I hold her hair for the third time tonight so she can spit it out into the sink.
“I’m positive for the BRCA genes.” Rory refuses to make eye contact with me. “Yay me. That’s where I was today. They make you come into the office to give you bad news.”
Fuck, this isn’t good. “Rory—”
“Don’t, don’t, don’t,” she interrupts me. “I just need to not think about it tonight. That’s the only reason I drank so much.” She closes her eyes and smiles. “It made me feel happy for a minute. Then I felt sick. But now I’m here with you, and I want to feel happy again. So shhhh.” Rory presses her nose against my cheek and my entire body freezes.
“Ok, so we’re back to being happy. How about we shift to sleepy?”
“Sleep sounds fantastic.” Rory’s fingers curl around the hem of her shirt, and she lifts it up and over her head. “Whoops, there goes my top!” she exclaims while tossing it across the bathroom. I’ve seen Rory in a bikini more times than I can count. This is exactly the same thing, I keep telling myself. “What comes off next?”
Rory reaches behind her and fiddles with the clasp of her bra.
“Nothing,” I quickly scold her. My fingers wrap around her wrists as I pull her arms back in front of her.
“You’re blushing, Jackson.” Her drunk giggles are echoing off the tile. “How come you never liked me like that?”
“This is not a conversation that we need to have right now.”
“Is it my body? Because I’ve never really seen you date a thick girl.”
“Rory—”
“I mean, I know you like your woman super thin or whatever. But my body is fucking beautiful.” Rory’s hands cup her breasts as if to emphasize what she’s telling me. Little does she know she’s preaching to the choir.
“Rory, everything about you is fucking perfect,” I confess, because I know she won’t remember any of this in the morning. Now it’s her turn to blush. Before she can respond, I lift her off the counter and place her back on her feet. “Now it’s time for you to get some sleep.”
The two of us walk into the bedroom. Once inside, I hear the zipper of Rory’s jeans, and I’m too late to stop it. Even drunk and off balance, watching her peel off those skin-tight jeans has all the blood rushing to my cock. Fuck, Jackson, look away. But, I can’t.
Once she’s done, Rory crawls up my bed toward the pillows, and I’m forced to watch the way her ass jiggles in those black lace panties. The soft flesh of her thighs right there in front of me. I turn to grab a T-shirt out of the drawer and when I turn back, she’s sprawled out in nothing but her bra and underwear on top of my duvet. It’s like every fantasy of mine come to life. My cock grows painfully hard as it pushes against the zipper of my jeans.
“Jackson?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Let’s get you in a T-shirt.” I sit on the edge of the bed and lift Rory into a sitting position. I help get her head through the hole and then her arms. “You’re all set.” Before I can stand, Rory grabs hold of my forearm.
“Thank you for taking care of me.” Then it happens. Her lips are on mine, kissing me in a way she never has before. It only lasts a few seconds, but it’s enough to ignite every single nerve ending in my body. “Night.” She exhales while laying her head on the pillow.
Without a word, I get off the bed and head right back to the bathroom. I shut the door and pace back and forth like a crazy person. A drunk Rory has always been a flirty Rory, but she’s never been this direct. Stopping in front of the sink, my hands go white as I grip the tile. I turn on the faucet and splash cold water on my face. Crap, it isn’t enough. My dick is so hard it hurts.
Pulling back the shower curtain, I turn the water on and strip. Not caring that the water is still cold, I stand directly under the stream. Closing my eyes, the only thing I can see is Rory, half naked on my bed. The image forever burned into my retinas. There is only one thing that is going to calm me down and get me back to rational thought.
My hand grips the base of my cock as I slowly stroke it up and down. A highlight reel of Rory plays behind my eyelids with the last image I have playing over and over. I can still feel her soft lips on mine. The way her body felt pressed up against me. Moving my hand faster, I grip my dick tighter and let out a low moan.
The fullness of her breasts as they practically spilled out of her bra. The roundness of her ass as she crawled up my bed. Picturing those soft, thick thighs wrapped around my head. Shit, how I’d love nothing more than to pull her hair from behind and watch my cock slide in and out of her wet pussy. To hear her call out my name as her orgasm tears her apart.
“Fuck.” I grunt, shooting my cum onto the tile in front of me. Every muscle in my body is tense until my orgasm finally lulls.
With my face directly under the stream of hot water, I feel both a sense of calm and guilt. Rory was vulnerable tonight, and here I am. Her trusted friend, jacking off to her in the shower, while she’s passed out drunk. I can’t go on like this. She needs to know the truth about how I really feel about her. This has gone on long enough.
