Chapter 18
Theo also slept. When his erection finally quit, anyway. Or maybe he’d drifted off before that. Given he’d woken to more wood, he couldn’t be sure if he’d actually fallen asleep with it still hanging around and it was the same damn one or another one entirely.
His balls sure as hell ached like he’d been in a heightened sexual state all night.
Hardly surprising with Tiffany plastered to him like shrink wrap. At some point, he’d rolled onto his back and she’d turned, snuggling into his side, an arm draped across his chest, her thigh against his crotch.
He could also still smell her on him, taste her, which probably didn’t help.
When she’d invited him to share the bed, he’d been determined that he was shutting his eyes and going to sleep. And he had tried. He had shut his eyes. But he’d been super attuned to her furtive glances in his direction, and they’d played havoc with his self-control.
He’d felt every single time she’d looked his way. The heat of it on his face and the brush of it on his chest and the intensity of it all the way down to his balls.
And when she’d admitted she couldn’t stop wanting him, the words had grabbed fistfuls of his intestine and squeezed.
It had only been her turning her back on him, reminding him of that fucking dare, that had kept him in check.
But still, he hadn’t been able to resist touching her and if getting her off was the only way he could stick within the parameters of the dare, then he’d been up for that, because not touching her had proven impossible.
And Christe , she was so fucking wet. For him. Slick with desire that had filled his nostrils and had tasted rich and salty on his tongue and driven him half mad with wanting her. And way she’d keened his name as she’d come…
He hadn’t just felt that physically, he’d felt it wrapping around his heart – calling to his heart.
He could still feel it now as a vague kind of constriction that made it a little hard to breathe when he looked at her.
Like a prickly vine slowly encircling the beating centre of him, cinching tighter as it embedded into the flesh.
Which was ridiculously fanciful and if he didn’t get off the bed now, he may well take advantage of her warm body draped softly and pliantly against the taut ache of his.
She stirred and murmured something unintelligible as he eased away, and Theo froze, hoping she wouldn’t wake, because he wasn’t sure he’d say no if she repeated her offer of help with his erection this morning.
Thankfully, her eyes stayed closed and Theo slipped out of the bed for the bathroom, thanking God and Calvin Klein for tight underwear keeping his cock from bobbing out like a fucking divining rod as he walked.
When he got to the ensuite, he knew he had to do something about it if he had any hope of getting through the rest of the day playing tour guide to Dimitri and Helena with Tiffany beside him, her taste still on his tongue.
He’d fought the urge to masturbate last night but that was before he’d buried his face between her thighs and made her touch the face of God.
Yes, Tiffany was still only a door away and his lack of control was infuriatingly juvenile, but it was release or blow a gasket.
Peeling his underwear down and shrugging out of the shirt she’d made him put on – which had clearly failed in its duty to keep them from each other – he stepped into the shower.
A warm one this time but still, he hissed out a breath as the teeming spray hit his shaft, making it buck and ache, his balls contracting painfully at the stimulus.
The luxury of the gilt-edged black tiles didn’t even register as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft, biting back a groan as he fisted himself. His heart was a hard thump in his chest as he gave a light pull, the sensation almost driving him to his knees, stealing the breath from his lungs.
Groping for the tiles in front of him, Theo flattened his palm up high near where the shower head fixed to the wall, leaning heavily into it as he locked his thighs and dropped his head, the spray now hitting between his shoulder blades and running down his back.
Christe! Had he ever been this worked up in his life?
Gritting his teeth, he resolved to get it done – without thinking about Tiffany. About her crying out his name last night. Or how her heel had drummed against his back as she’d bucked through her orgasm. Or how her taste and her smell had been an intoxicating combination.
She wasn’t some convenient masturbatory aid, especially given she was asleep in his bed on the other side of the bathroom door.
And perhaps it was that making it difficult.
Because despite the ache in his balls, it felt furtive and sleezy and he slapped the wall in frustration as he tried and failed to find a rhythm.
‘Do you need a hand with that?’
Theo’s head snapped up, his eyes flew open, and his hand released its loaded cargo as he looked over his shoulder to find Tiffany standing in the opening of the glass partition – no door on this fancy shower – that enclosed the cubicle on two sides and would have given her a full view of exactly what he’d been up to.
His hand slid from the tiles as he stepped away two paces, his shoulder blades and ass coming into contact with the side wall. Her gaze drifted to his cock, stiff and proud, the engorged head flushed and leaking as his pulse thundered through his ears and thumped through his abdomen.
It wasn’t the first time Theo had masturbated in front of a woman.
But it was the first time he’d been caught in the private act of it, and he wasn’t sure of the script.
He wasn’t about to apologise for a perfectly natural activity he was doing in the privacy of his own bathroom, but he also didn’t want her to think he was some kind of Neanderthal with zero impulse control.
Not that she was looking at his face at all, her eyes glued instead to his erect cock in the same way he imagined he’d stared at her wet pussy last night – with utter carnality.
Like she wanted in on the action.
The muscles in Theo’s ass tightened and he swallowed as she finally dragged her eyes up, locking her gaze with his and said, ‘Don’t stop on my account.’
Theo almost groaned as his dick bucked at the husky request. ‘Tiffany.’
Her gaze dropped briefly again before returning. ‘I mean… that looks really painful.’
He let out a strangled laugh at the understatement. ‘It really is.’
‘So… don’t stop.’
Oh. Holy. Jesus. ‘Tiffany,’ he said with a groan, a warning in his voice as his balls contracted even higher.
‘It’s not breaking your dare if I watch, right?’
No. But it might just break him. Still, she clearly wasn’t about to faint in maidenly horror at catching him in the act of self-pleasure, and his problem was still sticking out there between them so… who was he to disappoint a lady?
Not that there was anything ladylike about her right now. She looked like a fucking wildling, standing there staring at him in her baggy T-shirt that had slipped off one shoulder, her loose, sleep-mussed hair falling about her face and shoulders, her mouth slightly parted.
‘You like to watch, huh?’
She shrugged, a small smile fliting across her mouth. ‘I like to watch you.’
Christe. That you killed him. That you made it personal. And he could no more have denied her the show than denied himself the performance. Sliding his hand to his cock, he fisted himself again, fighting the urge to shut his eyes at the involuntary shudder that quaked through his body.
‘Take off your shirt,’ he muttered, and he didn’t care that it didn’t sound like a polite request, because it wasn’t.
It was a demand.
Her eyes rounded momentarily, and he wondered if she’d decline, but then she reached for the hem and yanked it up, pulling it over her head and tossing it on the floor behind as she took three steps into the cubicle and planted her ass against the glass directly opposite him, the spray hitting the six rows of tiles between them.
Theo hummed his satisfaction as he looked his fill, strands of her hair falling forward over her shoulders to brush the slopes of her bare breasts, almost reaching the puckered tips of her nipples that looked rosy red from his attention last night.
She was still in her underwear so technically there wasn’t nudity, right?
Her panties were yellow with lacy panels down each side, a satiny panel between, the waistband sitting low enough to expose rounded hips curving into soft waist and the slight rise of belly that he’d peered over last night to watch her face as she’d climaxed.
A small bow sat in the middle of the waistband and the tiny diamanté winking from the centre caused him to stroke his cock a little faster as he pictured tearing that sweet-looking bow off with his bare teeth.
‘Fancy a race?’ she asked huskily as she watched the slide of his hand.
Theo’s pulse spiked, his gaze flicking to her face to find her hazel eyes calmly meeting his like she hadn’t just suggested something that completely contradicted the innocence of that damn bow. ‘Race?’
‘Yeah.’ Her right hand moved from the glass behind to the indent of her waist. Then lower. His eyes tracked the movement as he worked his cock. ‘You and me. Let’s see how fast we can cross the finish line.’
Her hand paused at that tiny bow and Theo chugged out a laugh as he pumped himself a little faster. ‘No contest there.’ The way she was staring at his cock, he was barely holding himself in check as it was.
‘Except, we have to cross together. First one to come without the other loses.’
He wanted to ask her what the prize was for winning, but then her fingers toyed with the bow on her panties and he lost his place.
‘Think you can gear down?’
Theo swallowed hard. He was pretty damn sure he’d give himself a hernia if he slowed his roll, but he’d do whatever she fucking wanted as long as her fingers kept moving.
Kept. Moving. South.
‘Uh huh,’ he muttered.