5. Gemma
Chapter 5
Gemma
T he next few days blurred together. I barely remembered waking up, heading to class, or even grabbing coffee from the café down the street. My thoughts kept circling back to that night in the locker room, the heat of Matt's gaze lingering like a brand on my skin.
Rob had left for a business trip early Tuesday morning. He’d been distant, but now he was gone, leaving an echoing silence in his wake. I tossed my phone aside after reading his text—just a reminder about the conference, nothing more. The tension between us had been building ever since that game, but without him around, it felt even more pronounced.
Every time I stepped out of my apartment, a prickling sensation crawled along my spine. I glanced over my shoulder as I walked to campus, half-expecting to find someone lurking behind a tree or leaning against a lamppost. The feeling clawed at me, knotting my stomach tighter with each passing day.
I spent most of my afternoons in the library, drowning myself in textbooks and notes for my thesis. The shelves surrounded me like sentinels, but they couldn’t shield me from that watchful feeling. Whenever I paused to stretch or sip from my water bottle, I caught glimpses of shadows darting just outside my peripheral vision.
One evening after class, I found myself lingering by the entrance of the library. A couple of students rushed past me with laughter echoing off the stone walls. I turned away from them and pulled out my phone, pretending to scroll through messages while stealing glances outside.
I glanced around, the library’s wooden doors creaking slightly as they swung closed behind me. No one lingered in the shadows. The campus felt deserted, just me and the chill that wrapped around October like a tense hug. The air carried a crispness that bit at my cheeks, making me pull my jacket tighter.
I stepped outside, the fading light casting long shadows on the cobblestone path. The trees lining the walkway swayed gently, their leaves whispering secrets in the evening breeze. It all added to an unsettling vibe that sent shivers racing down my spine.
With each step I took toward home, I fought against the creeping sense of unease that clung to me. Maybe it was just my imagination running wild—spurred on by those lingering looks Matt had shot my way after that game (it was one game? Why was I acting this way?), filled with a strange mix of admiration and something darker.
My boots clicked rhythmically against the pavement as I moved forward. The familiar sights blurred into a muted backdrop—the café on the corner with its warm lights glowing softly, the park where kids played until dusk swallowed them whole. But all I could focus on was that feeling of being watched.
The street lamps flickered on one by one as twilight descended, casting pools of golden light onto the ground. I quickened my pace, heart thudding louder with each footfall. My phone buzzed in my pocket—a text from Rob about his trip, telling me he'd be working late and to not expect a call.
I didn’t reply. The air felt too heavy to respond to mundane messages when every instinct screamed at me to hurry up and get inside.
Reaching my apartment building, I glanced back over my shoulder one last time. Just empty streets and swaying branches met my gaze. Still, I couldn't shake off the feeling that someone lurked just out of sight.
Once inside, I locked the door behind me and leaned against it for a moment, letting out a shaky breath as I listened to the quiet envelop me like a protective cocoon.
I shrugged off my coat; the fabric sliding down my arms and pooling at my feet. The chill in the air receded, but the lingering sensation of unease followed me as I kicked the coat aside. The throw blanket was folded neatly on the couch.
But.
But I thought I draped it on the arm.
Maybe… maybe I was just imagining things.
I headed upstairs, each step echoing through the empty apartment. The familiar creaks of the floorboards greeted me as I moved toward my bedroom. The soft light from my bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across the walls, making everything feel almost dreamlike.
Once inside, I closed the door behind me and took a moment to breathe. My heart still raced with remnants of anxiety from the outside world. I reached for my top and peeled it off, letting it fall carelessly onto the floor. Next came my jeans, their snug fit giving way to freedom as I stepped out of them.
With each article of clothing discarded, thoughts of Matt invaded my mind like uninvited guests at a party. His face—all angles and edge—and that voice...
There was something there, something darker; a sense of possessiveness that sent tingles racing along my spine.
Naked now, I stood before my mirror for a moment longer than necessary. The reflection showed me—just me—and yet all I could think about was him. What would it be like to have his hands on me? Would they be gentle or rough? My breath hitched at the thought as I crawled onto my bed.
The sheets felt cool against my bare skin as I sank into them, pulling them up around me like armor. My imagination took over, painting vivid images in stark detail—Matt's gaze lingering on me with intensity, his fingers trailing along my body as if he were mapping every curve.
My heart raced with anticipation and fear mixed together. Would he whisper sweet nothings or demand what he wanted? A thrill shot through me as I let myself drift deeper into fantasy, losing track of reality while enveloped by thoughts of him.
His gaze, his voice, the way he moved with such confidence—it all consumed me. My fingers traced a path along my collarbone, lingering on the spot where his eyes had lingered that night in the locker room.
I closed my eyes, allowing myself to fully indulge in the fantasy. My breath hitched as I imagined his hands replacing mine, exploring every inch of my body with a possessive hunger that sent shivers down my spine.
My fingers trailed lower, brushing against the swell of my breasts. I could almost feel the weight of his stare, heavy and intense, as if he were watching me even now. The thought sent a thrill through me, and I bit my lip to stifle a moan.
The fabric of my sheets felt cool against my skin as I slid further down, my body responding to the phantom touch of his hands. My heart raced, pounding in my chest like a drumbeat that matched the rhythm of my desire.
I let my fingers drift lower still, teasing the sensitive skin just above my mound. The anticipation was almost unbearable, each breath coming faster and shallower as I imagined Matt's lips following the path my fingers had taken.
With a trembling hand, my fingers found the slick heat between my legs. I gasped at the contact, my body arching involuntarily as I imagined Matt's touch replacing my own.
My hips moved in time with the rhythm of my fingers, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. I could almost hear the roughness of Matt's voice, whispering dark promises in my ear as he claimed me as his own.
The tension built within me, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring wound too tight. I could feel myself teetering on the edge, my body trembling with the effort of holding back.
"Oh, Matt," I murmured. "Oh, Matt . Yes, please!"
And then, with a final stroke, I tumbled over the edge, my body shuddering with the force of my release. I cried out; the sound muffled by the pillow pressed against my face as I rode out the waves of pleasure that washed over me.
"Such a good little girl, aren't you?" a low voice said, emerging from my closet. "Are you ready to come for me again?"