Chapter 23 #2
A rush of heat and something like triumph shoots through me. I knew it. I fucking knew she wasn’t faking. I look up at her. She’s staring down at her phone, biting her lip in that way she does when she’s nervous or embarrassed, and I immediately tap out a response.
ME: Good. That makes me feel a lot better about the fact that I had to go handle things after we finished our little performance last night.
Kat’s jaw drops. She looks up at me, eyes wide, then types quickly with both thumbs.
KAT: Are you saying you…
ME: Jerked off in the bathroom until I came all over my hand? Yeah, I did.
KAT: Oh my god. I THOUGHT I heard something, but I told myself I was crazy for even thinking it.
ME: Why would that be crazy? Any man who heard the sounds you made last night, who saw the way you looked when you fell apart, would’ve had a hard time keeping his shit together.
She glances up at me, and the connection between us is laced with heat even across the distance that separates our buildings. I can feel it from here, this pull between us that keeps getting stronger no matter how much I try to ignore it.
I hesitate, chewing my lower lip. I should back off, try to change the subject to something simpler now that I’ve gotten an answer to the question that was eating at me.
But something about the comfort of this texting thing we’ve built over the past several days, the quiet intimacy of the bedroom, and the distance between us makes it feel safer somehow, pushing me forward.
ME: You know what I’m thinking about right now?
KAT: What?
ME: How much I want to see you do it again.
I can see her suck in a breath where she’s standing by the window. She looks over at me again, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Then she texts back.
KAT: Last night, I didn’t even get to see you.
I remember her words during our little show. How she said she wanted to see me too, wanted to know what I looked like. I echo what I told her then, but this time, there’s no acting involved at all.
ME: Dirty girl. You want to see what you do to me?
My cock is already responding, getting hard just from this conversation. Heat fills me, arousal building low in my gut.
KAT: I’ll show you if you’ll show me.
“Fuck,” I mutter out loud, the word rough in the quiet room.
I scoot to the end of the bed, my gaze locked on her across the way. My heart is pounding now, crashing against my ribs.
ME: Are you serious?
KAT: Yes.
Then she texts again quickly, as if she’s immediately second-guessing herself.
KAT: Unless you don’t want to. We don’t have to.
Jesus, how could she think I don’t want to? Before she can spiral any deeper into doubt, I send her another message that should make my feelings perfectly clear.
ME: Kat. Take off your top.
I look up to see her respond. Her chest is rising faster, her breathing getting heavier. She hesitates for a few moments, then puts her phone down on the bed beside her and slowly pulls her tank top over her head.
She’s not wearing a bra underneath, and I can see her full breasts, her curvy waist, the softness of her stomach. My cock jumps with interest, and I reach down to palm it through my sweats. She’s more gorgeous than I imagined, and I’ve imagined it a lot.
She picks up her phone, still looking over at me.
KAT: Your turn.
Smirking, I tug my shirt off over my head with one hand, relishing the way her gaze tracks the movement. The way she watches me. Then I pick up my phone again.
ME: You’re gorgeous.
She flushes, the pink spreading across her chest, her breasts rising with her inhale.
KAT: So are you. You’re… wow.
Then she texts again, her fingers moving quickly.
KAT: I don’t know what to do.
ME: Yeah you do. I saw you last night, bright eyes. You know exactly what to do.
The pink in her cheeks deepens, a look of embarrassed arousal spreading over her face. She sits down on her bed, mirroring my position. Setting her phone beside her on the mattress, she reaches up to cup her breasts, squeezing them, and I groan out loud.
The sound is rough and primal as I reach into my sweats, gripping my cock and stroking it lightly through the fabric.
ME: Fuck, keep going. If I were there, I’d play with your nipples. Do it for me.
She does, rolling them between her fingers, and I can’t hear her gasp but I can see it. Her mouth falls open slightly as her body responds to the sensations.
ME: That’s good. So fucking good. Now touch yourself. I want to see.
She looks over at me, and there’s heat in her gaze. Need.
KAT: Is that what you’re doing?
I stroke my cock harder, letting her see the movement beneath my pants, the outline of my hand moving.
ME: Yeah. I’m so fucking hard.
That seems to affect her. I watch as she slowly, tentatively, slides a hand into her shorts. I can see her fingers moving beneath the fabric, see her body respond, and it drives me crazy. It makes me itch to be there with her, to be the one touching her.
I spit on my palm and then delve my hand beneath my waistband again and start to stroke myself more intentionally, working my cock in a steady rhythm.
Timing it with the way she’s moving her hand, imagining it’s me touching her.
Imagining all the sounds she made last night, how she might sound right now if I was actually there making her feel good.
She picks up her phone with shaking fingers, typing one-handed.
KAT: I keep thinking about the things you said last night. The sounds you made.
ME: Me too.
Heat is building inside me, pleasure shooting up my spine as I watch her get more into it. Just like she did last night, her body is starting to move more freely, arching into her own touch. Getting less self-conscious, more lost in the sensation.
I’m breathing harder, my chest rising and falling. “Oh, fuck,” I mutter, my voice a harsh rasp.
ME: I want to see all of you.
I see her get the text, her eyes shifting back and forth as she read it. She stills for a second, then looks over at me.
KAT: You too.
Lost in the moment, in the need burning through me, I don’t even hesitate.
I just shift my weight and shove my pants and boxers down my legs, freeing myself.
My cock springs free, hard and thick, and I wrap my hand around it and stroke with a long, slow movement, letting her watch.
Enjoying the way her gaze tracks the motion, hunger burning in her expression.
She does the same, lifting her hips to shimmy out of her shorts and panties and kicking them away onto the floor.
ME: Wider, baby. Let me see.
She flushes deeper, and I’m not sure she’ll do it. Maybe I pushed too far, asked for too much. But then she spreads those gorgeous thick thighs, giving me a view that makes my brain short-circuit. Every thought disappears from my head except the need to see more, to watch her reach her peak.
I can’t even text anymore. I’m too caught up, too entranced by the sight of her. I just nod in encouragement, and she follows my urging and starts to touch herself between her legs, her fingers working her clit in slow circles.
I lean forward a little, my gaze locked on her, zeroed in on the way she’s touching herself.
Wanting to see every movement, every detail of this.
She’s so fucking stunning it hurts to look at her.
I can see from here that she’s wet, her arousal gleaming on her fingers as she starts to move them faster.
God, she’s killing me right now. I want to keep texting her, to say so many more things.
To tell her how beautiful she is, how much I want her, how I wish I was there.
But I can’t look away long enough to type.
I murmur words to myself instead, so absorbed in watching her that it’s almost like we’re in the same room.
“That’s it. Just like that. Fuck, you’re perfect. You look so good like this. Don’t stop.”
She definitely can’t hear what I’m saying, but maybe she can read my lips—or maybe it’s just the connection between us cutting across the lawn like a bolt of lightning—because she seems to respond anyway, her movements becoming more frantic and desperate as she chases the building sensations.
I can see her getting more worked up, her fingers flying faster as she gets closer to the edge.
Her back starts to arch, her hips rolling into her own touch.
And then her climax hits. I can see the exact moment it happens as her back arches fully, her head tipping back. Her hips thrust toward her hand a little and her body shudders as she comes, pleasure washing over her in visible waves.
I lose all restraint as the sight burns itself into my mind.
My hand moves fast and hard, stroking myself with rough pulls until I can’t hold back anymore.
I grunt heavily, the sound torn from my throat as my cock jerks.
Spurt after spurt of cum coats my hand and stomach, so much that it seems for a second like it’ll never stop.
It takes a while to come down from it. I’m breathing hard, my chest heaving as I stare at Kat across the way. She’s still got her hand between her legs as her own orgasm subsides, watching me with heat still visible in her flushed face.
We stay like that for a long moment, just looking at each other across the distance. Then I finally reach for my phone with my clean hand, managing to grab it.
ME: Last night was a lot like that. Only I was a hell of a lot more quiet.
I can see her laugh softly, her shoulders shaking. It makes me grin despite the little spikes of arousal still shooting through me.
I look down at my messy hand and the streaks of cum on my thighs and stomach.
ME: I’d better clean up.
She looks at her own hand, color flooding her face again.
KAT: Yeah. Me too.
That makes me groan, a low sound that vibrates in my chest as I think about how wet she must be, her fingers slick with her own arousal.
I get up and go to the bathroom, cleaning up and pulling my pants back up.
The fabric feels rough against my oversensitive skin as I tuck my softening cock away.
By the time I finish and go back into the bedroom, Kat is coming out of her bathroom too, also having gotten dressed again in her tank top and shorts.
When I see her check her phone like she’s looking for a message from me, her face expectant, I quickly snatch up my cell phone, my thumbs moving across the screen.
ME: I’m glad you told me the truth.
She grins, the expression lighting up her face.
KAT: Same. Definitely.
As I stand in the middle of my bedroom looking at her in her own room in the main cabin, I seriously consider going over there.
Walking across the snowy yard between our buildings and knocking on her door.
Keeping this going, but face to face instead of across a distance by text.
I want to be in the same room as her, want to touch her for real, want to hear those sounds she makes up close.
But I know I shouldn’t.
I already just blew past a line I knew I shouldn’t cross.
Went way past the boundaries of our fake relationship into territory that has the potential to make everything more complicated.
I need to be smarter than that, need to have more self-control, despite the way my body is still keyed up and hungry for more of her.
ME: That kind of took it out of me. We should probably get some sleep.
I can’t quite read her expression from here, but I almost think I see disappointment pass over her face. As if maybe she was hoping I’d say something else.
KAT: Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’m a little tired too, it was a long day.
ME: Goodnight, bright eyes.
KAT: Goodnight.
I turn off the light and get into bed, the sheets cool against my skin. I resist the urge to reach for my phone again, to send her just one more message—which, if past experience is anything to go by, will probably turn into at least twenty more messages.
So I don’t. Because if we go down this road any further, we’re going to do something we can’t take back. Cross a line that we can’t uncross.
And Kat deserves someone who can give her what she really wants. Someone who believes in love and forever and all the things I swore off after Alexis.
Someone better than me.