Chapter 6
Jacob
“Hand me that screwdriver,” I said, reaching my hand out towards Blake. He passed it to me, waving it around when he got excited.
“Okay, but seriously. Tell me the truth. She was in your kitchen when you got home?” He leaned against the wall by the door, watching me pull the old lock from the door. “And you really didn’t fuck her again?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, I didn’t fuck her.” I would have though.
“How’d she get in?” He was enjoying this way too much, and I started to regret letting him come over. I didn’t need help switching the locks, and all he was doing was drinking my beer and taking way too long to pass me my tools.
I set the screwdriver down, followed by the old lock, and looked at him. “Apparently Liz had left a spare key at her place at some point. Hence my changing the locks.” I didn’t know how many extra keys Liz had. She was forgetful, so it wasn’t unlike her to have multiple copies of her keys. I wasn’t going to risk another unexpected visitor.
“She’s ballsy as fuck.” Blake chuckled. “Just taking the key and letting herself in. I bet she wanted you.”
I scoffed, popping the package for the new lock open. “She came to tell me it can’t happen again.”
“Then why didn’t she just call you?” He made a good point. Why didn’t she?
Groaning, I lined up the latch and grabbed the screwdriver. “Look, I don’t know.”
“Just be careful, dude. If Liz finds out, that could get messy.” Blake leaned in and held the lock in place while I twisted the screw. He wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t care. I thought about her begging another man for more on my couch.
“It would serve Liz right, to be honest.” I smirked, trying to imagine the way she’d react if she saw me buried between her older sister’s legs.
Blake laughed loudly. “Okay, you petty piece of shit, but what if it hurt Erin? Does she deserve it too?”
A sudden wave of guilt washed over me. Erin didn’t deserve to be hurt. “That’s why I won’t fuck her again.”
I stood up and stretched—it was a lot harder to squat down that long in my thirties. Blake clapped me on the back. “We’ll keep your mind off the whole mess in Minneapolis.”
Blake and Darren had started talking about the trip almost constantly. At this point, I was just ready to get away. “There’s nothing to take my mind off of. I’m totally fine.”
I locked the door behind Blake when he left, turning to scan the now much-too-quiet living room. I was used to being alone, but I was already tired of the silence. I looked at the couch I had avoided sitting on since I walked in on Liz. “Yes, fuck. Just like that!” Her screams echoed in my mind.
I debated finishing the bottle of whiskey on the counter, choosing to take a hot shower instead. I shut off the lights and closed the bedroom door on the imaginary moans I associated with the living room. Grumbling, I flipped on the shower, tossing my clothes to the floor next to the hamper. I’d pick them up later.
I stared in the mirror, waiting while the steam from the shower filled the room around me. Running my hand over my beard, I considered shaving it off. Liz had loved my beard—she was the one that convinced me to grow it out. Then I remembered how much younger I looked without it. Instead of thirty-three, I looked twenty-two. It wasn’t a good look for me.
When the mirror was fogged up completely, I climbed into the shower, deciding I’d keep the beard for now. The stream of water stung my skin, and I reached to turn the temperature down. My hand hovered over the knob, and I watched my chest turn an irritated red. The darkening blush on my skin reminded me of the blush that had crept over Erin’s, and my stomach stirred. My cock swelled, and I smacked my hand against the tile wall.
“Goddamn it,” I grunted, closing my other fist around my growing erection. “Why are you in my head?”
I clamped my eyes shut, stroking my hand along my shaft from the base to the tip. When I opened them, I imagined red hair and eager green eyes—I pictured Erin kneeling between my legs. I thought about her lips gliding along my cock, and I groaned.
She was desperate to please and hungry for more. I could almost hear her whimpers over the splash of the water off of my body. The sound of the stream was replaced by the imaginary sound of her quiet gags and moans when she sucked my cock into her throat. I longed to wrap my hands in her hair, and I pressed my fingers into the tile until my knuckles turned white.
My balls tightened, and I imagined her small hands closing around them. “Jesus, Erin,” I moaned when the muscles in my legs flexed. I dropped my head back, embracing my release. My cum washed down the drain with the water, and when I opened my eyes, I was disappointed the shower floor beneath me was empty.
We can never do what we did again.
As I turned off the shower, imagining her bright green eyes looking proudly up at me, I knew one thing. It wouldn’t be the last time.