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I’m a goner.
Before I can stop myself, my hand shoots inside my underwear, and I fist my heavy cock, squeezing hard and willing myself not to be so fucking turned on by the woman in the next room, but it’s impossible. I’ve been aware of her all night. Every roll of her body on the dance floor, every brush of her skin against mine as she moved past me.
It’s as though she knew how on edge she’s had me, but that’s not possible. She couldn’t know.
“Oh, God,” I hear whispered through the walls, and my mind goes crazy, picturing her fucking herself.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
The sweet temptation is too much, and my fist starts moving up and down my thick length, barely able to grip it in my palm, and I let out a shaky breath, unable to keep from picturing her. Her mouth. Her hand. Her body. Everything I shouldn’t want.
Then in a moment of pure insanity, I take my phone and open a new text, and with every word I painstakingly write out, I grit my teeth.
Izaac - A lot of noise coming from in there. What are you doing?
I hit send before my brain is capable of reminding me of all the reasons I shouldn’t, and not a second later, I hear the softdingof her phone. She scrambles around, and I hear her soft intake of breath as she reads my text and then there’s nothing but silence.
Fuck.
That was stupid. I crossed a line . . . again, and now she probably thinks I’m a fucking perv, but isn’t that exactly what I am? Listening to her get herself off in the next room.
My phone buzzes in the blankets, and my heart races. This is it. This is the moment she calls me out on my bullshit. I almost don’t want to look.
My hand hesitates over the phone before finally finding the balls to pick it up and swipe my thumb across the screen. My gaze sails right to the words she’s written, and with a sharp intake of breath, my grip tightens on my cock as a strange feeling circles the pit of my stomach.
Aspen - I don’t think you’re ready to know what I’m doing in here.
Fuuuuuuck.
How am I supposed to come back from that?
I hear a laugh from the room next door, and suddenly the humming goes from a slow pulse to a rapid buzz. “Oh fuck,” she grits out, her words taking me captive as my fist works up and down, tightening at my tip and trying to keep myself in control. But fuck, there’s no denying it now. All sense of control slipped away the second I figured out she was the woman from Vixen last night.
My fingers have never moved across my screen faster.
Izaac - Need a hand?
Aspen - You wish!
A wicked grin cuts across my face. I had no intention of going in there. We’re both drunk, and giving in to my impulses now would be fucking reckless, but nobody said I can’t have a little fun with it. Besides, I’ve already crossed the line. What’s the point in trying to backtrack now?
Izaac - Who do you think of when you fuck yourself, Aspen? Is it me? Do you picture the way I’d bend you over and slam into your tight little cunt, taking you so fucking deep that you feel me in your throat?
Ding.
My fist jerks furiously, my hips jolting with excitement as I listen while Aspen scrambles for her phone again. She groans, and as I look at my screen and watch as the read receipt appears below my text, I grin.
“Holy fucking shit,” I hear murmured through the drywall.
The three bubbles appear at the bottom of the screen, letting me know she’s responding, then they promptly disappear. A second passes, and they show up again, but just like before, they disappear again.
Izaac - Answer me, Aspen.
Izaac - Now.
Izaac - Do you think of me when you fuck yourself?
I’ve never been so impatient for a response, and then finally, when the three little dots appear, they don’t fade away until there’s a new text appearing below mine.
