21. Samara
Chapter twenty-one
Samara
M y skin feels sticky with sweat, and there’s a pounding in the base of my skull that won’t let up. I’ve been tossing and turning for over an hour, unable to sleep despite the unyielding exhaustion that’s settled into my bones.
It was ungodly hot today, and every cell in my body feels swollen from the heat. My ankles are the size of cantaloupes, and I feel overheated and entirely too uncomfortable to sleep.
I’ve stripped down to nothing but my panties, and somehow, I am still hot.
Unfortunately, I’m not able to dissociate enough to even pretend I don’t know what’s really happening here.
Ever since Luca texted me, I can’t stop thinking about how good he looked shirtless. Granted, he had a child on his chest, but that didn’t keep me from noticing his corded arms and washboard abs.
Even his ass looked perky in those sweats, and I keep trying— and failing —to tell myself that the girthy length I saw in the front of his pants was his phone.
Sadly, my pussy doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo that we’re actively avoiding thoughts of this man.
My hand slips down my soft tummy, my fingers toying with the delicate lace of my panties.
Maybe if I just make myself come, I’ll be able to sleep.
I’m sure it isn’t really Luca who’s causing my thoughts to be in such disarray. It’s merely that he’s the most attractive man I’ve seen recently, and my mind has snagged on that.
That absolutely has to be it.
I reach for the massive pump bottle of lube on my nightstand, and sigh against my pillows as my fingers slide under the soft fabric, making their way to my center.
Groaning, I press my middle finger over my aching clit, applying just the right amount of pressure as I close my eyes.