Chapter Seven
We stay at the club for a few more hours, and I try my best to have a good time even though all I can think about is Wes. His hands on my body sent a bolt of light through me that I can’t seem to dim.
It felt so right and yet wrong at the same time. I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, what was I expecting, doing sexy yoga and sucking on a banana in front of him?
I guess Nicole was more correct than I thought.
We walk back to their apartment, and I’m surprised to see Chad in their living room. I toyed with the idea of crashing on their couch, but now that he’s here, I’m definitely going home. I don’t need to hear thumping to mess with my head even more tonight.
“Want me to bring you back?” Chad offers even though I know he has zero desire to do so.
“I’m good. I only had two drinks tonight, and that was a while ago, so I can drive home.” I give the girls quick hugs and a nod to my brother before heading to my place.
When I pull into the lot across the street, I see Wes’s bedroom light is off. Maybe I lucked out, and he’s not back yet.
I might act like I’m the pillar of self-control, but inside, I’m a quivering mess. I have no clue what Wes is thinking. I’d like to say he’d just forget about it, move on, but I’m not sure if I can forget the way he felt against me. Just the thought of it brings me back to that moment, and I instantly have the desire for his touch one more time.
Being as quiet as I can, I slide the lock and stop as the door creaks open. His shoes are in the entryway, but it’s silent in the apartment, so he must be asleep.
I let out a relieved sigh and search the dark space. It’s our boxing ring in the fight of wills between us. I don’t want to spar with him tonight, mostly because I don’t know if I’ll be able to control my words—or my wants.
I use the bathroom, and when I come out, I see his closed door. Without thinking, I find myself outside his room with my hand on the handle, and then I let go of it quickly, coming to my senses, and rush back to where I belong.
When I enter my room, I don’t bother to shut the door all the way as I glance up at the mirror, seeing my flushed face. Instantly, my mind goes back to the feeling of Wes’s arms wrapped around me. I wish I could forget because all I want is to feel that sensation, that heat and comfort he gave me.
Knowing what I want is fifteen feet away isn’t helping either. Yet knowing it’s actually Wes that I’m fantasizing about makes it even worse.
But I can’t stop.
The more I think about it, the more intense the urge grows. I feel my panties moisten and know I have to do something about this, or I’ll do something really stupid and finish opening my brother’s best friend’s door, doing the one thing I can never take back.
Sliding out of my romper, I pull back my sheets and grab my favorite toy from the drawer next to my bed. Just the sight of it makes my toes curl. It’s only when I’m truly horny that it makes me come so hard that I can’t see straight.
And I don’t think I’ve ever been this horny by myself.
I lick the tip of it, warming it with my mouth and making sure it will slide in with ease.
Circling it around my clit, I play a little before pressing it to my opening. The sensation makes my back rise off the bed, and I lift my shirt up, gripping my breast. A moan escapes my lips as it slips all the way in.
Holding it there for a quick breath, I pull it out before pushing it back in as slowly as I can until I find a rhythm.
The urge to come builds almost too fast, and I slide it out, pausing to catch my breath before pushing it back in, closing my eyes tightly as I stifle another moan.
When I open them again, movement in my mirror catches my attention. It’s reflective of the doorway on the other side, and it shows the silhouette of a man looking in. The moonlight coming in the living room window outlines Wes’s physique, the exact one I’m thinking about right now.
My body gyrates against the toy, needing any movement that I suddenly denied to it.
He moves slightly, and his profile comes into view. Wes’s mouth parts, and my core tightens.
He must not know I can see him as he hides in the shadow. The thought makes me want to explode on contact. I’ve never masturbated in front of anyone, and knowing the man I’m fantasizing over is secretly watching me is almost too much to handle.
I close my eyes, calming my breath—my desires—and start the rhythm one more time. I buck my hips as I pull it out and moan as I push it back in. Knowing he’s there, I don’t even bother to be quiet.
I turn my eyes toward the mirror. When I see him lick his lips, it’s exactly what I need to push me over the edge. I come so hard that I convulse around the toy, closing my legs and turning to the side. Mumbling who knows what into my pillow.
Once I get my bearings and can breathe again, I open my eyes and see he’s gone. I listen for the creak of his heavy footsteps back to his room but don’t hear anything.
Chapter Eight
Chad texts me, asking if I can bring his new batting gloves to his practice. Since I’ve never seen the fields, I agree, wanting to finally see the place my brother has called his home away from home for the last three years.
I’m excited I’ll finally get to see him play for Cal. My dad was in between acting roles for the past few years, so my parents were able to drive here a few times just to see Chad play. They were over the moon when the team won the SoPac Regional Tournament. Between work and my coursework then, I didn’t have time to make the six-hour drive, and I never heard the end of it.
Fall ball has just started, so the guys keep talking about the interdivision team they need to study, so they’re ready to dominate in the spring. They’ve been practicing like crazy to get ready for the first game.
I walk to the fields, hearing the crack of a bat every few seconds. Holding my hand over my eyes to block out the sun, I search for Chad across the field. When I spot him, I wave, letting him know I’m here. That’s when I notice Wes in the batter’s box.
His back is to me as a coach throws him pitch after pitch. With each swing of the bat, his muscles flex in his shirt that falls down his forearms. His ass swivels in his tight white pants. I’m mesmerized by his swing and how he repositions his body, readying for the next ball to hit out of the park.
He removes his helmet, and his eyes instantly meet mine as he catches me staring at him from my spot behind the fence. I don’t look away. Neither does he. He’s standing there with his helmet in his hand while the soft autumn breeze sweeps across the field, pushing his sweat-wet hair off his face.
My chest rises as I inhale, remembering the penetrating expression of his when he watched me outside my bedroom. The headiness of the moment ripples through me, and I swallow down the memory.
The coach calls his name, breaking our connection. “Wes, great job today. Don’t forget to stay balanced just a little more, and you’ll get that oppo hit right when we need it most,” I hear the coach say to Wes.
“Stacey,” Chad yells as he runs toward the opening in the fence.
I make my way to Chad, and when I check back on Wes, he’s already in the dugout, putting his stuff away and getting out his catcher’s gear.