31. Nobody Is Watching You but Me
Nobody Is Watching You but Me
Bree
G od. Goddam. What is happening?
I had just enough self-awareness to walk away when he told me to when all I wanted to do was kneel and beg. It’s the booze, that’s all. The fuzziness in my head confirms that as I drop to sit and then lay back on the mattress. Something changed tonight, something that I wanted to give into, but he was right—as the room spins around me, I know he was right—no good decisions are made with a bellyful of whiskey.
As I hear his bedroom door close, I push myself up, head out to go to the bathroom and get a glass of water, say goodnight to Beans, and then go to bed, hopeful that while the liquor might have led to regrettable decisions, it might also lead to a night of sleep.
M y hopes for a night of rest were pointless. For three hours now, I’ve laid awake tossing and turning and staring at the shadows of the trees moving in the breeze outside as they dance across the back of the thin curtains. The sound of the rain lulled me into sleep when I first lay down, but it was short-lived. I soon woke with the room spinning around me once more, thanks to the alcohol still in my system, and I haven’t been able to get back to sleep since.
The cabin is silent, but for Beans snoring outside my door, and his presence there is comforting. I got up to use the bathroom and get a snack to soak up some of the booze, and he didn’t move. I had to step over him as he just opened one eye to check everything was okay before going back to sleep.
‘Some guard dog you are,’ I said softly, smiling as I kneeled down to kiss his head, getting a couple of slow tail wags in return. ‘Sleep tight, baby.’
Now I’m lying on my bed, frustrated and tired.
We strayed close to the line tonight with talk of monks and nuns, dicks in hands, and jealous eye scratching. The attraction between us was never the problem. It always burned hot, and it still does. He keeps his distance, though. He’s guarded when we’re alone and when he’s no longer putting on a show.
The unmistakable squeak of Arlo’s bed grabs my attention, and I lean over, bringing my ear closer to the wall as the sound stops. He must have turned over and gone back to sleep. I want to hear more, I realize. I want to hear that he’s as unsettled by how close we came tonight as I am. The way he looked at me. God, if he’d have just given in, I’d have let him do whatever he wanted tonight. It’s been so long. I don’t mean with him—that’s been an age, but with everything going on, I haven’t even considered hooking up or even getting myself off. Maybe he was right—maybe that would help. I’m stuck between the rock of wanting Arlo, being so attracted to him that it feels unbearable at times, and the hard place of being tired and too frightened that Nolan is watching me, waiting for me to drop my guard.
That kiss, though, and the way he held my head and positioned me where he wanted me. My god, that kiss has been playing on a loop ever since.
Relinquishing control to Arlo feels good. I push back, but the fact is, he’s calling all the shots right now, and I like that I can let my brain take a break when I’m with him. I want him to call the shots. I want him to kiss me again. I want him to tell me to get on my knees, or into his bed, or wherever the hell he wants me, and oh, fuck, I’m horny. For the first time in I can’t remember how long, I’m really, really horny.
The memory of his hands on my body, the way his ice eyes freeze me in place as they roam over my face and body has my fingertips trailing across my stomach. Can I do this?
He’s asleep, he can’t hear anything when he’s asleep, and, like he said, it could help me to relax. Taking a breath, I consider what I’m about to do and shake my head in the dark room. It must be the gentle remaining buzz of the alcohol lowering my inhibitions. I’m sex-positive and not ashamed of a little masturbation, but with my ex in the next room and a paper-thin wall between us, yeah, this one is on whiskey.
I’m doing it, though. I would have fucked him right there on the deck if he’d given me half a chance, and I know if I don’t get some release and rest soon, my decision-making and judgment is going to get even worse.
Fuck it.
Taking a deep breath and settling back against the mattress I close my eyes and start to push my hand into my shorts. Arousal buzzes under my skin as old memories of Arlo touching me this way once upon a time rush to the surface, but then, without warning, panic hits me, and I snap my eyes open, sitting up and turning my attention to the window.
The curtains are closed, and nothing has changed. I’m alone in my room. Beans is still snoring, but I felt like I was being watched.
Squeezing my eyes tight, I take a couple of deep breaths, then look around the room.
‘He’s not here,’ I say quietly to myself. ‘I’m safe. He’s not here.’
Steadying my breath, I flop back to the mattress once more and stare up at the ceiling. This is why I need sleep. I need it. My mind is playing tricks on me.
‘No,’ I say firmly but quietly. He’s not doing this to me. Nolan is not going to break me.
Inhaling once more, I blow it out and push my hand back into my shorts. I need this, I remind myself. I need to relax. I need to sleep.
Closing my eyes, I stroke my fingers between my thighs. I want it to be Arlo. I want his large fingers to tease me and make me moan. I exhale as my fingertips graze my clit, and the sparks of pleasure start to relax my muscles, and then, just like before, the tendrils of panic wrap around me, and my eyes snap open. Frustrated, I smack my clenched fist against the mattress.
Nolan is in every corner of my mind. Waiting, watching. Even when I know he can’t see me, my mind tells me that he can, and I don’t know that I’ll ever be rid of him.
Tears wet my eyes, and I squeeze them shut, feeling the tickle of the teardrops against my skin as they descend into my hairline.
Don’t let him take everything from you, the stubborn part of my brain starts to shout from the back. You are stronger than this . I am stronger than this, but I’m tired. You’re a fucking Campbell. I am. I consider the strength of my dad, leaving his MC for love. My mom, raising twins when she was so young and surviving the heartbreak of losing my dad. Of Doug, fighting for his daughter, and Zoe, caring for and surviving losing Luke. I am a Campbell. I am stronger than this.
Pushing myself up out of the bed, I softly lower my feet to the floor and pad over to my bag, listening for sounds that Arlo is awake, but the house is quiet.
Pulling out the vibrator, I nod, yes, I’m doing this.
Laying on my back once more, I shuffle my shorts down and off. Need has been overtaken by my stubborn determination. I’m not even doing this because I’m horny anymore. I’m doing this because I refuse to let Nolan take this from me.
It’s a quiet toy, that’s the reason I bought it. I live alone, so I don’t need quiet, but I prefer it. However, when I turn it on now, my heart races as it vibrates loudly, and I turn it back off again. I guess when there’s someone in the next room, and there’s no sound to drown it out, it all just seems louder. I turn it on again slowly, leaning my head toward the wall to listen for any sign that Arlo has woken, but there’s nothing.
‘Okay,’ I whisper and bring the vibrator between my legs.
The gentle buzz against my sensitive skin is nice, but I’m no longer aroused. I know that this is about needing to prove to myself that I can do this, that I can let go, and nothing bad will happen. Also, I need to come. I need the release and the relaxation that will come with that.
‘Come on, Bree,’ I whisper to myself as the vibrator slides through the wetness still there and nudges my clit.
Holding it there, I wait and hope and try to relax enough to feel the familiar build, but it’s not there. It’s like my body stopped wanting this, but my brain knows I need it.
Realizing I’m staring at the ceiling in determination, I shake my head and close my eyes and try to remember the kiss, Arlo’s wet boxers clinging to him when he climbed out of the river that day, the way his strong arms and shoulders pulled him through the water of the lake this afternoon as he swam, the way he looks at me when he forgets he’s trying to stay away, the same way he looked at me back then.
A spark of pleasure makes me smile slightly as I stroke the tip of the toy through my growing wetness, teasing my clit, who has decided she might be awake after all.
Relaxing into it, I let my legs widen and my lips part, but then it stops. A vivid image of Nolan leaning over me fills my mind, and I gasp, opening my eyes and throwing the toy across the room as I sit up, panic making my heart race. I cover my face with my hands and sob in frustration.
Without warning, Arlo bursts into the room wearing just his boxers, and I yank the blanket back over my body.
'What was that?'
'Nothing, it's nothing. Go.'
He moves his attention around the room, and I see him spot the discarded toy; there's no point hiding it now.
‘I can't get off. I can't sleep, and I can't do the thing that could probably help me sleep.’
He takes a breath. I hear it in the quiet of the room, even over the distracting vibration of the toy against the wooden floor. Arlo steps forward and bends to pick up the toy, turning it off and putting it on the dresser, and I drop my head back with a groan of embarrassment.
'Why?'
'Because I close my eyes and I see him, I open my eyes, and I'm scared he's watching me. I don't know where he is, and I'm scared. I'm tired, and I’m frustrated.'
After another deep breath, he moves toward me and kneels on the bed, pulling down the blanket.
‘What are you doing?’ I try to close my legs and hide my exposed pussy, but he moves his body over mine, separating my thighs with his. My heart races with nerves and sudden arousal.
'Nobody is watching you but me, Bree.’ I suck in a gasp and meet his gaze in the dim room. ‘Lay back, do what you need to do.’
‘What?’ The word was barely even a whisper, but he moves, caging me in underneath his body and forcing me back down to the mattress.
‘Eyes on me. He can’t see you. Even if he could, all he would see right now is me on top of you. Nobody is watching you but me .' The repeated words make me swallow hard, and I wet my suddenly dry lips with my tongue.
‘I can’t…’
‘Sure you can,’ he interrupts, then glances down between our bodies before using his knees to spread my thighs further apart and moving my hand from the mattress beside my hip to between my legs, careful not to touch me himself. ‘Keep your eyes on me, Bree. It’s just you and me.’