Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
I wake up the next morning to find the disappointment from the night before gone, but the horniness is still here.
I try to read a book on the couch, but my core is tingling, begging for attention. Finally, I exhale a long breath, deciding. The house is empty, so I don’t have to hide inside my room.
From the coffee table, I grab my headphones. I switch my paperback for an audiobook, to free my hands and get comfortable on the couch. I’m wearing a silky bathrobe, with nothing underneath, so I untie it, letting it fall to my sides.
My nipples are two stiff peaks already, enjoying their freedom. My hands travel my neck, my collarbone, before landing on them, slowly rolling them between my fingers. A gasp escapes me while my back arches off the couch.
My right hand travels further down before hitting the jackpot. It makes its way to my slit, already drenched, and brings the wetness up.
“Fuckkkk,” I whisper as my fingers circle my clit.
The audiobook is just getting heated. A deep, gruff voice, with a Scottish accent, pleasures the female lead with his mouth and fingers. My own fingers work faster, setting fire to my clit. My other hand pinches the pink, hard nub, my breasts heaving with desire.
It feels so good. And I’ve been aching for it so badly that I’m already on edge.
The narrator slips his cock into the soaked pussy of the female character, and my climax starts to build.
My fingers set an impossible rhythm, working me up even faster.
In tandem with characters in the book, my orgasm crashes into me.
“Aahhh!” I moan, as my chest lifts from the couch, heat spreading through me.
And right there, in the midst of my peak, the house rattles.
My eyes snap open, ready to flee the earthquake.
But my gaze lands on Logan, gawking at me through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
A large toolbox sits beside him, which is probably what caused the shake.
Logan stares with a hooded gaze, his jaw set in stone, his hands balled into fists at his side.
Involuntarily, the hand on my clit moves again, sending another fluttering wave through me, prolonging my orgasm. It probably lasts a second, but it feels like eternity as he watches me pleasure myself.
As soon as the waves subside, shame kicks in. “Shit,” I mutter, frantically covering myself.
His hands move up in surrender motion, while he turns away. “Sorry. Fuck, sorry.” I hear him shout through the glass.
Tying the bathrobe tight around me, my feet find their way into the slippers, and I stomp outside, determined to give him a piece of my mind.
“What the hell was that? What are you doing here?” I spit out, my eyes trying to burn him on the spot, while my ears burn with humiliation.
His gaze picks up but stops on its way to my face, and he swallows. In the silky bathrobe, my breasts are as good as naked. My skin flushes all over before he catches himself and finally looks up.
“I just came.” He winces at his choice of words, and I pray for an actual earthquake so the ground can swallow me whole. “I-I called you.” I never heard him stutter before. “I even rang the doorbell.”
“Well, I haven’t heard any of that.” My noise canceling headphones made sure of it. “But foolishly, I thought I was allowed some privacy.”
“You are, of course. I’m so sorry for this.” His eyes are apologetic, but I’m still pissed off.
“What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Figured I could get some hours in today, since I need to be at another job site on Monday. I don’t want to fall behind on your deadline.” His hand scratches the back of his neck.
“Oh.” Another wave of embarrassment hits me, for a different reason this time. “That was … nice of you.” I swallow. The man came here on a weekend to make sure I have my deck on time, called me in advance, probably got traumatized by what he saw, and now I’m yelling at him.
“I’m sorry, really. I know you said to come whenever, but I still should have waited for you to answer the phone.”
I did say that. “No, it’s ok.”
“Still, I’m sorry.” He shrugs, shooting me a small smile, and it’s impossible to stay mad when he looks this good. “I should go.”
“No!” I take his wrist, and a pang of electricity buzzes through me. “You’re already here. You should stay. If it’s not too unpleasant for you, of course.” My eyes drop, and he quickly covers his crotch with a hand.
“No, I’ll be fine. Sorry, again.” He turns around, flustered.
Did he just cover a hard-on? No, that can’t be it.
Instead of doing stuff around the house, I spend the day creeping on him while he works, from where he hopefully can’t see me, replaying the scene from this morning.
It was mortifying, of course, but if I’m being honest, he didn’t look traumatized. He looked … interested? Maybe even turned on? He froze in place as he watched me. His nostrils flared. An d by his whole demeanor outside, it’s fully possible he was hiding a hard-on.
I’m used to his playful flirting, but that’s who he is, right? It’s not that he’s actually into me. That would be insane. He’s young, and hot, and capable. And I’m a boring divorced mom.
Still, as I look at his arm muscles flexing in a tight white tank top, I can’t help feeling unsated by my previous orgasm. Or wanting to redo it. That moment when our eyes met and my shameless fingers continued rubbing my clit, making my climax impossibly long? Fuck.
I need a repeat of that. Only this time, I’ll be smart enough to be sure he won’t be coming back.
He knocks on the patio doors a few hours later. “I wanted to let you know I’m heading out. Sorry again for this.”
“I’m just glad my date last night was a bust, or it would have been doubly awkward.” I make a poor attempt at a joke, but something flashes in his eyes, his jaw tensing.
“Right,” he says, chewing on the inside of his lip. “Better get going.”
“Sure. See you.” I wave to him like a lunatic and audibly groan as soon as I’m sure he’s out of the earshot.
My door safely locked; I get situated on my bed.
I dig through my toy stash, finding my favorite one.
A pink rabbit vibrator. No headphones this time; it’s obviously a hazard.
But there’s no external stimulation needed.
The thought of him getting hard watching me masturbate is plenty enough to bring me to the edge and push me over it.