Chapter 33 - Alec
THIRTY-THREE
ALEC
After I finish cleaning up the broken shards of porcelain, I head slowly to my en suite and turn on the shower. I’m in a foul mood. My head is pounding with a tension headache, and my hands are hurting.
And worst of all, I’m hard as a rod.
As the water heats, I pull out my phone and set a five-minute timer, like usual. I don’t like to take too long in the shower. I have too much to do. I set the phone down and start unbuttoning my shirt, moving on autopilot.
All I can see is Summer on her hands and knees on my kitchen floor, bent over the broken mug.
I see her soft, smooth, freckled thighs.
I see the peep of her lace thong peeking out between her legs, the flash of sweet pink under the fabric. I grit my teeth as my balls ache with pressure.
I shouldn’t be thinking of her like this. She didn’t realise she was flashing me when she bent over. She was just trying to help. She’s always trying to help.
I finish undressing and get into the shower, letting hot water gush over my sore back and shoulders. Steam puffs around me as the temperature almost reaches scalding and pain lights up my skin. I don’t care. I like the sting. I need it. I feel hot all over.
I reach down and grip my dick, grimacing.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I’ve been awful to Summer the whole time she’s been here. And she’s sleeping with my best friends, for God’s sake.
But I can’t get her out of my head. Can’t stop thinking of her vanilla scent, and her glittery fingernails, and her sweet voice always saying sorry.
I can’t afford to be distracted like this.
I need to be able to think. I need to get her out of my system.
The clock is ticking, there are animals outside that need checking, anything could go wrong at any moment, and it’s all on me—
I can’t afford to lose focus. Terrible things happen when I do.
I start to stroke myself roughly. As I do, phantom sounds float through my ears. I remember the noises that filtered through my bedroom wall two nights ago. Moans. Cries. Whimpers.
Jesus Christ, how many times did Cameron and Fraser make her come? It felt like it went on forever.
How did she look when she climaxed? Did she shake? Gasp? The pressure in me tightens until I’m aching. I start pumping myself harder. I just need to get this out of me.
The image in my mind morphs, and suddenly, she’s here in the shower with me.
I pin her up against the slick walls, her soft thighs wrapped around my hips, her wet hair wrapped around my wrist as I thud into her over and over again.
I see her gasping, water droplets running down the line of her throat, and I imagine licking them right off.
I wonder if she’d beg for more. I bet she would. A nice girl like her…I bet she’d say please.
My dick pulses in my hand. I shudder and lean my forehead against the steamed-up tile of the shower wall, bracing myself to come—
The door to the bathroom flies open, smacking the towel rail.
“JESUS CHRIST!” I roar, reaching across to slam off the water. I’m breathing hard, my heart hammering, and my dick full to bursting. Through the steam, I can see Summer. She’s dripping wet and holding a bundle of something in her arms.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, eyes fixed on my crotch. “Oh God. Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, um, to interrupt you, but I didn’t know what to do.”
“Stop staring,” I say. “What is it.”
She squeezes her eyes shut and lifts the bundle in her arms. “It’s Crumpet,” she says. “I think she’s dying.”