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At least he’s not all tensed up anymore as far as I can tell. He’s also not letting his eyes leave my face either. Boo. So this is what it feels like to be friend-zoned.
Taking a seat on his sofa, I sink and immediately get comfortable.
“Sorry to say, but I don’t think I can meet your expectations. You’ve already flaunted your snacks and now I have to admit that your couch is way better than mine. Guess we’re just going to have to have movie night here from now on. Such a shame,” I throw out sarcastically.
After getting the movie put in, he shakes his head as he fetches the bowl of cheese puffs. I’m already reaching for a handful once he’s settled on the couch. There’s a seat separating us.
“Thanks for today,” I mumble between bites, “and for going so far out of your way to take care of me.”
I won’t go into specifics and tell him how much I’ve enjoyed it to save a little bit of face. Don’t need to risk losing out on this friendship thing we have going on.
“Thanks for agreeing,” he returns before growing silent as the movie starts.
After the puffs are gone with the bowl and I’ve returned his box of popcorn, I’m curled up on the two cushions while Sawyer stares ahead. His shirt covers my body for the most part and maybe I should be a little more considerate of how much of my legs I’m showing off.
At first, I did feel a little shy, doubting myself. That changed within twenty minutes of getting comfortable. Maybe if I caught him lowering his gaze sooner, I’d have relaxed even earlier. Now I’m too busy wondering if he’s taking sneaking glances whenever he thinks I’m not looking. Well, at the moment, I am definitely watching and boy has my heart not learned its lesson.
“Those pills helped out a lot,” I mumble as I try to look at the screen. “Though, my poor feet are killing me. Don’t happen to have anything stronger by chance do you?”
Am I looking to get touched again? Without a doubt. Honestly, I’m a bit desperate. No more running away on his part or giving me confusing reactions.
He hums as if he’s thinking about it. Hoping the answer is no, I silently cheer when he confirms he has nothing. Silence ticks by and I assume I’ve failed once more. Then my gut tightens when one of his hands grabs my ankles.
Success.
Sawyer
I’m aiming to be helpful is all. Julie is making my offering of a foot massage a hellish decision. Each time she softly moans, it goes straight to my cock. Every single time.
I relieved myself in the shower at a world-record pace and hoped if I got my hunger for her out of my system, I’d survive this. Now I’m stiff and trying my hardest not to let her foot brush against my lap. If she catches on, I’m fucked.
She won’t want to spend time with me like this let alone even look my way.
“Not even the ticklish type,” I mumble under my breath. I’d take a giggle over a moan at this rate. It would make it easier to concentrate on the movie. I don’t even know what I’m watching at this point. Is the house haunted or is it zombies? The cover has already slipped my mind.
“Growing up with two brothers who enjoyed teasing me, I lost that weakness decades ago,” she jokes before sighing softly. Her toes curl before she rolls on her back.
Now I’m forced to notice the way my shirt is riding up her thighs. If I keep lifting her foot, I’m going to see more than she’ll want me to. This is an absolute lose-lose situation.
“I like the way your hands feel.” Her voice lowers to a whisper. There’s no way in hell she’s doing this on purpose is there? If that’s the case, I need her to put me out of my misery before I lose it. I don’t know how much more I can take.
Another breathy sigh leaves her lips before her toes curl. Like she’s testing how far I’ll go, she stretches out her leg, resting it against my lap. It’s the small gasp that gets me, signaling that she’s discovered my little secret. Instead of yanking away as she should, her legrelaxes.
I look to see her trying to watch the movie, biting her lip silently.
I should be the bigger person here. End movie night and pretend nothing is going on here. Instead, I’m fanning the flames by sliding my fingers over her ankle and toward her calf. A massage is harmless. I can’t stop myself from gently squeezing the muscle.
“This sore too?” I ask barely above a whisper. When she nods, I grow greedy and don’t stop there. All the way up to her knee, I rub and squeeze. Making sure not to forget her other leg, I watch the way her breathing grows quicker. Her skin is becoming more flushed as well.
My cock is rigid, pressed against the fabric of my shorts as I look at her pale complexion. She’s got freckles on her legs, a place I didn’t consider. Now I’m here wondering how high they go up.
“These too,” she whispers as she pokes her thighs. The ones still clearly covered by my shirt.
“Julie,” I rasp, physically aching here. If I keep touching her, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stop. I’ve already fought myself every time I’m around the woman.
“Please?” She might as well have sentenced me to death by dragging up the hem of the shirt up the length of her body.
There’s nothing underneath.Nothing.
