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We overslept.
Had wild morning sex.
Got it on in the shower.
Okay, I need to stop with the sex cop-outs.
Overslept it is.
It’s boring but convincing.
Rex is a night owl and works on his video games at night. Players are most active at night, and he chats with the gamers testing his game. Last night after dinner, I set the alarm on his phone, so he wouldn’t oversleep, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he slept through it.
I call him again.
No answer.
I slide on my heels.
Call him again.
No answer.
I grab my clutch and check my reflection in the mirror. I woke up early to give myself enough time to get ready for brunch before the wedding. My hair is straightened and parted down the middle. I’m wearing my contacts, and I did my makeup. My dress and heels are black again.
I take both key cards from the dresser and head to Rex’s room. After banging on the door six times with no answer, I shrug, unlock the door, and let myself in.
“You’d better wake your butt up!” I shout before lowering my voice in case any of his room neighbors are family. “No way am I facing these people alone,especiallybefore food and coffee are in my system!”
The door slams shut behind me. His bed is empty, the blankets and sheets rustled, and I spot his phone charging on the nightstand. I toss my clutch onto the bed and move to the bathroom when I hear the shower running. The door is ajar, and just as I’m about to yell at him to hurry it up, I freeze. My mouth drops open, my fingers flying to my parted lips, and I stumble back.
Oh my freaking God.
My heart thrashes against my chest at the sight.
A slight fog is steamed over the glass shower door, but I see him. I fixate on the lean, powerful body as water cascades down his every muscle. Rex isn’t only showering. No, his hand is wrapped around his hard cock, lazily stroking it. When his fingers reach the head, he turns his grip while releasing a deep, guttural groan. His free hand is flattened against the tiled shower wall, and his head is tipped down, concentrated on his stroking.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
My fingers move from my lips to my throat, caressing it.
I wish I could join him.
I smack myself in the forehead.
That can’t happen, Carolina.
My nipples ache when his hand speeds up and his moans release in harsh pants. I press my thighs together, a heavy throb hitting me, and my fingertips tingle with the need to slide into my panties. Rex is so focused on his pleasure; maybe he wouldn’t notice me pleasuring myself back.
I smack myself in the forehead again to knock some sense into me.
No! Bad Carolina!
No touching yourself while your best friend jacks off.
Watching him is terrible enough.
Invasion of privacy much?
