Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
NASH
The second we walk in the door, Wyatt kicks his boots off and bolts for the shower, saying goodnight over his shoulder.
On the way home he looked like he was doing everything in his power to not give me a chance to say what I’d planned to, even though I no longer wanted to.
In the car, he immediately turned the music up, claiming he wanted to play the songs we didn’t hear during the concert.
I’m already hyped up from the buzzing energy of the rodeo.
The masculinity of the bull riding and steer roping, but what pushed me to my clothes feeling too tight to be able to sleep was the sound coming from Wyatt’s room.
I could hear him turning on the shower. The sound of water running over a hulking, strong, naked body…
Nothing on except that chain he never takes off.
Am I about to masturbate to my best friend?
Yes, yes, I am. It will be my little secret.
I lift up the sheets and climb into my bed.
My head hits the pillow, and I feel the kind of relief that only comes from lying down after spending a long time in motion.
It’s a good relief, but it’s not enough, so I slide my panties down my thighs, just a little.
I don’t need to be fully nude to slide my hand down my stomach, finding my clit.
Just the first soft touch sends a bolt through my body.
A need for pressure, a desperation to be filled, but I won’t get the toys out tonight.
Not knowing Wyatt is still awake in his room down the hall.
I just need a quick and dirty orgasm to help me relax after a fun night and a long week of practice.
I rub patient circles around her. Letting my wetness coat my fingers as I go, making every movement smoother.
I tease myself until I can’t take it anymore.
I put the pressure on and increase my speed, feeling the flesh move under my finger.
My other hand goes under my shirt to barely brush my nipple.
I don’t want to picture tan skin, blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and that goddamn cowboy hat, but I can’t think straight this close to an orgasm, and he’s there. It’s out of my control.
As the tide rises in me, kept on course by my fingers which are experts in my own pleasure, I crash toward release like waves against the cliffside.
“Oh fuck.” I can’t keep the words from spilling from my lips.