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Set on finding out for sure, I slip my arm underneath the sheet and around her waist. She’s wearing nothing but mini shorts and an oversized tank top, and fuck, I’ve missed her so much.
Not now, dick.
I rest my hand inches above her shorts before sliding my fingers underneath. But I don’t touch her. I just pretend to, running my fingertips inside the waistband over and over again. I tease the living hell out of her until she drops the act. And she shoves my hand into her shorts herself.
I smile.
I knew it.
She was never asleep.
She was just torturing me.
“Well, well… Look who’s awake,” I whisper into her ear, positioning my hand on her inner thigh and brushing my fingers against her skin everywhere but where she wants me. She doesn’t answer, but I know from the way she presses her ass to my cock that she’s not nearly as mad at me as she thinks she is.
At least, her body isn’t.
“Dia?” I sweep my fingers up and down her leg. “Baby, talk to me.”
I get nothing.
Not one word.
She’s still giving me the silent treatment.
Desperate for a sliver of her attention, I direct my fingers between her legs and find her clit. She squirms from the moment I start to play with her. I go slow at first, matching my pace to her breathing. The faster she breathes, the faster I twirl her clit, and I know I’m getting somewhere when she sighs.
“I’m supposed to be mad at you,” she whines, her tired voice going straight to my cock.
Jesus, even her voice gets me hard.
There’s no way she doesn’t feel me poking at her ass. She proves me right by rubbing against my crotch multiple times. In response, I move downward and squeeze a finger inside her to quiet the demons inside her head. She’s so warm. So fucking wet for me.
“Weird. You seem happy to see me.” I ease a second finger inside her, earning a quiet gasp from the girl whose silence almost killed me. She chuckles at my comment, elbowing me in the stomach, and I swear her laugh should be heaven’s soundtrack…
I go from gentle to rough, pumping in and out of her faster. I’m torn between wanting to talk about us and wanting to bury myself so deep inside her that I forget I was ever out of her.
“Oh, God.” She bites back a moan when I pull my fingers out of her drenched pussy and make her clit my sole focus.
“Why have you been dodging me all week?” I plant kisses up and down her shoulder blade. She squeezes her eyes shut, ignoring my question and spreading her legs wider.
“Dia, answer me.” I stop moving, her swollen clit practically screaming my name as I take my hand out of her shorts.
“Because you don’t want to be with me,” she says bluntly.
I pull back, waiting for an explanation.
She doesn’t elaborate.
I reach for her shoulder to roll her onto her back, and she exhales a deep sigh, glassy eyes set on the ceiling.
“What part of me blowing up your phone and sneaking into your backyard like a fucking stalker says ‘I don’t want you’?”
“I didn’t say you didn’t want me. I said you didn’t want to be with me,” she corrects.
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No, it’s not.”
