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So I blame my contrariness for what I do next.
Not that I need an excuse. See the part where I’m a demon from the pits of hell. Provoking is my hobby.
“If you’re not worried, don’t mind me,” I drawl. “Go on, study, or rest, or do whatever you wanna do.”
She shoots me a suspicious look. “And what will you do?”
“Oh, I’ll be right here. Guarding you.”
“Shouldn’t you be outside my room instead of inside?”
“What better way to protect you other than keep my eye on you? Like I said, don’t mind me. Do your thing.” I wave a hand at her vaguely. “I’ll keep myself busy.”
“Busy how?” Her eyes narrow more.
I don’t reply, pulling my tank top off instead. She’s watching me, which is what I want. I let my tank top drop to the floor, then reach for the buckle of my belt.
Now that gets a reaction.
“What are you doing?” she squeaks.
“Making myself comfortable. You mind?”
“Comfortable,” she splutters. “What for?”
“This could take all afternoon. I’ve been in these clothes since yesterday. I thought I could use your bathroom to take a shower. That okay?”
“I… Yeah, sure.” She bites into her lower lip and fuck, that gets me hard as hell every time, without fail. “Go ahead.”
I grin at her, pull the belt free of the buckle and start on the buttons of my black jeans. “Thanks.”
“You can… do that in there.” She points at the door of her bathroom.
“I’m fine here.” I bend over to unlace my boots, toe them off along with my socks. “Don’t let me keep you.”
Straightening, I run my hands over my chest, over my stomach, slide them down into my pants.
Her breath catches.
Slowly, I push my pants down my thighs. My briefs are black and snug, barely containing the huge hard-on I’m rocking, and her eyes all but cross when they fixate there.
I make a show of it. Let her ogle me as my pants drop to the floor and I step out of them.
I put my hands on my briefs.
“Rys,” she says, her voice strangled.
“Don’t tell me you’re not dying to see?”
“You presume too much,” she huffs and starts to turn away, a frown tightening her pretty face.
“You’re not dying to touch? You’ve never seen a naked man before, have you?”
“I’ve seen Jason,” she scoffs.
“You barely saw anything.”
“What do I care about naked men?” She walks over to her bed, reaching for her backpack. “Take your shower, Rys.”
