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The dream clears from my mind and I realize I’m hard, my dick nestled against her ass. I jerk back immediately, the dream suddenly making more sense. Not that I haven’t dreamt about her before, but nothing as realistic as this.
She stirs but doesn’t wake, and I quietly slip out of bed, letting memory guide me to the bathroom in the darkness of the room. Shutting the door behind me, I flip on the light, my erection bobbing in front of me, waiting for more of Tessa.
More of that delicious vanilla scent in my nose, more of her body heat warming me under the covers, more of her lithe figure pressed against me.
My dick doesn’t seem to care that she’s not actually mine, that it was a mistake for me to share a bed with her in the first place. But how could I deny her when she’d asked me to stay? When she’d said she was scared to be alone, even knowing what the result would be?
Because now I know what it’s like to wake up next to her. To dream of her and find her there in reality. To have the chance to slide an arm around her waist and revel in the softness of her skin, cup the heavy weight of her breast, reach down and tangle my fingers through her nest of curls.
My dick perks up even more at that train of thought, and I curse myself, stepping over to the shower to flip the dial to hot, letting the water heat.
What I should have done was leave as soon as she fell asleep and gone to the couch. Then I wouldn’t be dealing with any of this. Because now, I can’t forget the feel of her, as quick as it was.
And I want more.
I strip and step under the heated spray, ignoring the raging urge to grip myself for as long as I can. I’m used to discipline. That’s what training for boxing is all about.
But this is different. This is something I want. Something I… need.
The first stroke is excruciating in its pleasure, and I brace myself against the wall, holding back a guttural sound as I move from base to tip, over and over again, picturing Tessa.
Her looking up at me with those big, brown eyes as she reaches for me, her petite hand encircling me. Kissing me roughly as she strokes me, her sounds of satisfaction spurring me on. Undressing her slowly, learning her body, what makes her gasp, makes her moan, wanting to discover everything about her.
Need rises within me, my hand flying faster over my dick, breaths sawing in and out imagining what it’ll be like to touch her the way I want, to sink into her softness, to watch how I affect her, the same as she affects me. Ignoring the fact that she doesn’t feel that way about me at all. That she’d be horrified I’m envisioning her like this, but I’m too far gone to care.
Wishing she was here with me, body slick with soap as I crowd her into the back of the tub, nibbling on her neck. Listening to that beautiful laugh of hers, her leg rising to circle my hip so I can nestle into her. Having the freedom to touch her any way I want, for her to want to touch me, too.
Wanting her in the bedroom atop me, riding me for all she’s worth. Wanting her under me, gripping my shoulders as I pound into her. Wanting her spread-eagle on the bed while I feast on her, drinking her down.
I bite my lip, restraining a groan as my hips jerk, cum shooting on the tile wall. Keeping silent so I won’t wake her, won’t cause her to suspect anything. How long can I keep being friends with her when the wanting only continues to grow?
I turn the shower nozzle to wash away any trace of my activity and dry off, realizing I didn’t bring my clothes in with me to change into. I guess I can’t walk naked to my closet like I usually do.
Wrapping the towel around my lower half, I open the bathroom door and pause, finding her sitting up in bed, already awake.
Her gaze travels over me, eyes wide, and I tighten my hold on the towel.
“I have to change.” I point toward the walk-in closet, as if it’s not obvious what I mean.
She nods, silent.
Could she hear what I was doing in there? Did I moan aloud? I can’t remember now. I was too far gone.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep walking, and shut the door behind me, leaning against it.
What a start to the weekend.
The bed is empty as I return to the room, and this time I find her out in the living room on the phone. I’m guessing it’s the apartment’s management company from the sound of it.
I leave her be, giving Boots her breakfast, and surreptitiously wash up the few dirty dishes in the sink from the past couple of days.
Tessa joins me in a few minutes, resting her elbows on the counter next to me. “They can’t get maintenance out to look at the door until Monday. I guess their normal guy requested this weekend off.”
“Shit. That sucks.” I rinse the last plate and set it in the drying rack. “You’ll stay here, right?”
It’s selfish of me to ask it of her when she probably has another friend to stay with, but I want her here.
“If you’re offering, I’d love to. But I don’t want to impose.”
