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Hard. And filthy.
Fuck.
I’m not in any mood to talk to Breckin. Not in any mood to talk at all or plan shit. I don’t want food. I don’t want to wait. I’m sick of waiting.
I want to get laid. I need to get laid.
The condoms in my front pocket from last night dig into my thigh with an unnatural weight. I scratch my chin, wondering what she’d do if I knocked on her door like this.
Unfortunately, with the way I’m feeling, I’m not gonna last more than a few minutes. That’s not at all what I need.
Huffing, I turn my truck off and stare off at my house. Then over at Asra’s.
Shower first. Then I can focus on having Asra’s long legs wrapped around my waist, her nails digging into my back as she comes undone. After that, I’ll worry about whatever dinner plans we have.
Stuffing my keys in my other pocket, I hop out.
Shower first.
I glance back at my house. I could go inside first, check to see if the bathrooms are done yet, shower and change there. If not though, it’d just waste more time. I could hop in the pool. The cold water might do me some good.
I glance down at my pants.
At this point, even dry ice ain’t gonna do a damn thing to get rid of that. Without a glance back at my place, I head next door.
I’m even harder than I was a second ago. My cock strains against the seam of my jeans, so bad it fucking hurts. With each step closer to her, my heart speeds up. The air heats until it feels like I’m sucking boiling lava in my lungs. I haven’t even seen her yet and I’m shaking.
Shower first.
I rip my shirt off, letting it fall onto her porch. Next come my shoes. I kick each of the dirty boots off, not even bothering to look where they land. I unbuckle my jeans and let them fall. Kicking my feet out of them, I place them on the small bench as I round the teak fence to Asra’s outdoor shower.
Chapter 19
Asra
Thick, heavy dropsfall on my patio. The splattering echoes through my living room, waking me from my nap.
Great, it’s raining again. I blink, expecting it to be darker or the rain harder.
Late sunlight streams through all of my windows. Hugging my blanket closer, I snuggle down under my covers. Maybe I was imagining it.
The heavy drip, drip, drip continues.
Rubbing my eyes, I turn toward the window behind my couch.
