28. Rook
Chapter twenty-eight
Rook
I let the treadmill slide me to the end before jumping onto the floor, pushing my headphones back off my head. I stretch my arms up and clasp them behind my head as I gulp in air and pace back and forth. Leaning onto my knees, I squeeze my eyes shut. It’s been well over a year since his last contact. Stupidly, I thought after all these years maybe he was moving on, but clearly I was wrong.
My phone chimes with an incoming message, and my chest tightens, breath quickening as I unlock my phone. My heart hopes it’s a message from her while my head reminds me of all the reasons I can’t get attached.
I can’t fight the smile that lifts at the corners of my mouth when her message appears on the screen, my chest releasing its tightness, allowing fresh air to flood back into my lungs.
Othelia
Did you know elephants are either left or right-handed?
I smile as I type out my response.
That is the most random message I think I’ve ever received.
We have spent the last three weeks messaging each other throughout the day. Random updates about our day, sometimes in words, sometimes just a picture. Those are my favorite: a secret folder in my gallery is slowly filling with photos of her.
Her hand around a coffee cup; sheet music spread out over her bed; Rian asleep on the couch with a sharpie mustache; a selfie with Layla laying on a blanket out on the grass; her dazzling smile at the camera had somehow made me forget how to breathe.
Today, though, it appears we are moving onto random facts.
Othelia
But did it make you smile? ;)
I plead the fifth
She has the most annoying quality of making me smile with every message, filling my empty heart one message at a time.
Shaking my head, I grab my towel to wipe the sweat from my face as I try to clear it of the walking distraction that is Othelia. I need to focus on hockey. Here I am fucking around and messaging a girl when I should be working out.
My mother gave up everything for me to have this job, to follow my dream. Now, living with a permanent injury that was my fault, her life will never be the same. So I need to prove to her it was worth it. Though I know it never will be.
Who am I to think I’ll be anything but a burden to Othelia, anyway? She is the sun and everything good, while I sit here alone in the dark with all my demons.
Covering my ears with my headphones, I turn my music up, sliding the phone away, determined to ignore it. I push back into my routine, a mix of cardio and plyometrics set up by the team physiotherapists to ensure my body is in peak performance through the season.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I actively ignore it, willing myself to push through my routine, but my constant need for anything to do with her makes the battle of my will easily lost as I slide my phone out of my pocket
Othelia
OK, tough guy .
A second later, my phone buzzes again. This time a selfie of her face brightens up my screen. No make up, hair in a messy bun as she lays back on what looks like her bed, the swell of her breast peeking at the edge of the photo, and her tongue sticking out.
I lick my suddenly dry lips and look around, ensuring no one is looking as I adjust my shorts to hide my growing issue. Only Othelia can get me hard in a gym full of my teammates and trainers, when I have been on the verge of a panic attack all day.
I immediately hit save on the photo, moving it to her folder and type back a reply.
You’re going to make my team think I have a thing for them.
Othelia
I don’t see what the problem is *shrug emoji* Maybe it’s a good way to make friends? A real icebreaker…
I glance side to side to check no one’s looking. I lift my shirt, flashing a peak of abs, as I take a quick selfie in the gym mirror; my issue on display in the gray cotton shorts and hit send.
Does this look like an icebreaker to you?
Othelia
Well, it looks like it could break something…
Well thanks, now I need to rearrange my afternoon plans. This photo and I will be otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future. ;)
Fuck… That was not the response I was expecting. Does she really just expect me to go about my day with the image of her touching herself to a photo of the outline of my dick?
Othelia… are you going to touch yourself to my photo?
Othelia
I plead the fifth.
No, she fucking isn’t. I drop the resistance bands I was using to the floor with a thud and storm into the bathroom furthest away from the guys. Dialing her number, I lean against the sink, my grip tightening on the porcelain. I would video call, but I don’t want anyone to walk in and possibly see her. Rian would kill me if he knew I was getting his sister off over the phone in the gym bathroom with the team just feet away.
She answers after one ring, like she knew I wouldn’t be able to help myself.
“Why hello, Rook, what do I owe the pleasure?” Even her smartass greeting can’t hide the tremble of nervousness in her voice.
“Are. You. Touching. Yourself. To. My. Photo?” I ask, the gruffness of my voice surprising me.
“Yes,” she whispers so softly I barely hear it, and if that doesn’t just send every available drop of blood straight to my cock, making it throb, pre-cum leaking from the tip. A growl escapes my lips as I stalk towards the nearest cubicle, slamming and locking the door behind me.
“Tell me where your hands are,” I grunt. She goes quiet, but her shallow breaths fill my ear. “Othelia?”
“Yeah.”
“I have done nothing but dream about your beautiful pussy since Texas. Don’t hold back with me.”
Taking a slow breath, she answers, “Well, I’ve got my phone in one hand and the other is dipping past my waistband.” She exhales like it took a lot for her to say it out loud. “Rook, I… I’ve never done this before.”
I groan, biting my fist as I lean my forehead on the back of the door. I shouldn’t be doing this. A better man would walk away and let her do this with someone who could offer her the world, but I am far too selfish when it comes to her to pass up the opportunity of being her first anything.
“I’ve got you. Put your phone on speaker and place it on the pillow next to you.” I hear shuffling and then silence. “Are you with me, Rockstar?”
“I’m still here. What do you want me to do now?” Her voice grows stronger, more sure of herself, even though she sounds more distant.
“Take one hand and run it under your shirt. Rub your nipple through your bra.”
“What if I’m not wearing a bra?” she asks, and I huff out a breath. This girl.
“Fuck, then touch your nipple. Tell me, is it pebbling as much as it did when my mouth was on it?” She groans, and I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering how she gripped my hair while I licked and sucked on them.
“Move your other hand down the waistband of your pajamas, gently run your fingers across the edge of your panties, and tease yourself over the material.”
“Yeah, I’m not wearing them either.” She giggles and I have to squeeze my cock to stop it from exploding while my heart constricts at the sound.
“Fuck, Rockstar, you’re killing me.”
“Do you want me to tell you how wet I am?” she asks and I just about choke. My shy Othelia has been replaced with the confident rockstar and I’m eager to play.
“Oh Rockstar, I know how wet you are. I watch your thighs clench every time we get close. Are you remembering how good you felt on my fingers? Now, slowly circle your clit and tell me what you liked about the photo?”
“Besides the obvious,” she snorts.
“Othelia…” I warn. I am so fucking hard right now, but my chest thuds at the sound of her chuckle.
“The way your shirt rode up to expose some of the V of your abs.” The huskiness of her voice has me pulling my cock out of my pants, giving it a slow stroke.
“Did you picture running your hands over them?”
“Yes,” she whimpers, and I lean my head back against the door. I need to go slow. The mental picture of her with her fingers is threatening to send me over with one more stroke. Focus on her.
“Mmm, keep rubbing your fingers back and forth,” I direct her as her breath increases, and I can hear her soft moans when she runs over a spot that lights her up. “Do you know what I think of when you send me photos?” She hums a response while she waits for my answer. “So many nights I have pictured the way you looked pressed up against that wall, the moans you made while you exploded all over me. The feel of your warm body pressed up against me on my bike while I’ve stroked myself. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve come screaming your name.”
She pants and I can hear the rustling of the sheets moving around her.
“Now, I want you to push a finger inside, just one, push it in and out and imagine it’s my cock. Are you doing it?” No response, just her heavy breathing filling my head. “Othelia? Are you nodding?”
“What… Oh shit yeah, sorry.” My lips turn up into a smile. Fuck, this girl. Her breath quickens as she whines, “It’s not enough.”
“Add another finger, slide your other hand down, and use it to rub your clit. Feel it throb on your fingers. If I was with you, Othelia, I would have you spread out on the bed. The tip of my cock teasing you before pushing all the way in. You would feel so fucking full. You’d feel me pulsing inside you, like I am in my hand right now.” She answers with a gasp and then a moan as she builds. I guess she wasn’t expecting me to be joining in, but there was no way I would miss any opportunity to come with her.
“That’s right, Rockstar, you have me jacking myself off in the gym bathroom ’cause your messages drove me fucking wild and I couldn’t wait until I got home. The sight of your cleavage had me just about blowing in my pants in front of my entire team. That is what your hot as fuck body does to me.” I quicken my pace to match the increased tempo of her breaths and I squeeze my eyes shut, imagining pinning her down and driving my cock deep into her.
“I want your neighbors to hear who that pussy belongs to, Rockstar. What a good girl you are for me and how your body comes when I tell it to.” I can almost make out the sounds of her wetness, her breath becoming pants.
“Now, are you going to be a good girl and come for me?” I know she’s close. I’m right there with her. My hand pistons up and down, imagining the feel of her lips on mine, how I would breathe in her moans.
“Rook…” she whimpers.
“Mmm, that’s not loud enough. They won’t be able to hear you.” She gasps again. “Come for me, Rockstar.”
“Rook!” she screams and with a groan a second later, I follow, my body shuddering as I fill my hand.
My head still pressed against the stall door, chest heaving. I stand there in absolute awe of this woman. “You just keep amazing me, Tilly.”
“You are pretty damn amazing yourself, hotshot.”
I snort out a laugh. “See you tonight, Rockstar.” I hang up before doing something stupid, like skipping practice to drive to her house and finish what we started.
Exiting the cubicle, washing my hands at the basin, I pray no one noticed I’ve been gone for so long. I stare at myself in the mirror, dark circles beginning to shade my eyes from my lack of sleep, but the unmistakable post orgasm blush colors my cheeks.
Maybe now I can concentrate on my work, but I know I’m kidding myself the second I pick up where I left off and the memory of her moans and the way she screams my name drowns out the music in my ears.
This girl has me well and truly fucked.