CHAPTER EIGHTEEN STROKE OF GENIUS RHYS
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
STROKE OF GENIUS
RHYS
Ithought I’d finally found control.
I was wrong.
After the unpleasant burn that’d hit my gut when I imagined Lo on the back of Jury’s bike, I’d impulsively mentioned dinner.
Thankfully, I’d been able to get my head on straight enough to change it to picking something up for her to eat alone in the privacy of her own temporary house, not going out together.
Even more thankfully, she’d shot down the offer in favor of going right home.
The less time I spent with her, the better.
When I’d met her at the station, and she’d called me Sir in that stammering voice, I’d thought she was hot.
But the tiny badass who looked ready to go to blows over baked goods? Who didn’t back down? Who rolled her eyes and got snarky, yet still obeyed when I gave an order?
Yeah, she was fuckin’ impossible to ignore.
I had a million fuckin’ things on my plate to deal with, but instead of focusing on them, I’d propped my phone up near my computer with the camera still zoomed in on where she sat on the couch.
That was how I’d seen her watching me, too. Not as much as I was watching her, but often enough.
She was likely doing her job. Working her case and staying on guard. But that didn’t stop my dick from growing painfully hard. That didn’t stop me from wanting her to drop her phone and give me all of her attention, not just some of it.
Two houses away.
The thought looped through my brain over and over again as I stared up at my ceiling. It would take seconds to go there. To knock on her door. To challenge that attitude she threw around.
My cock jerked.
Every time I’d jacked off that week, Lo had shoved her way into my thoughts. I’d tried to fight against it, but when my brain cells were gone because all the blood was in my dick, it was always her and that damn smile I pictured just as I came.
Maybe that’d been the wrong play.
Maybe I needed to give myself one time to freely fantasize to get it out of my system.
The more I mulled the option around, the more sense it made.
I wasn’t used to depriving myself. I might’ve been in a dry spell, but it was self-imposed.
I’d put up all these rules and restrictions around Lo, making her forbidden fruit.
It made sense that she got under my skin.
I couldn’t spend a couple of hours fucking her out of my system in the back room—not unless I wanted the rest of our time together to be awkward as shit.
Hell, I wasn’t even sure I would get that far if I was willing to risk it.
For all I knew, she would laugh in my face if I made a move.
Or, worse, her pretty face would soften with pity for the old man hitting on her.
It wasn’t like she’d given me any indication she felt an attraction.
She spoke to me the same way she spoke to Glitch or Haze or Jury.
Fuckin’ Jury and his damn bike.
Would she have accepted the ride he offered?
I never gave a damn about shit like that.
If I got shot down, I moved on. No harm, no foul, no second thoughts.
I sure as shit never cared about what kind of ride a woman would accept.
Any other woman could leave me to jump right on Jury’s bike—or Jury himself—and I wouldn’t blink.
The fact I did care when it came to Lo should’ve been enough to kill my hard-on.
It didn’t.
I forced my eyes closed and rolled to the side.
Then the other side. Then the first side again.
I shuffled through every unsexy topic I could think of, but they inevitably turned to thoughts of Lo.
My fuckin’ dick began to ache like I had a weeklong case of blue balls.
I was beginning to worry that even if I did crash, a dream of that stubborn detective would cause a wet dream like I was some clueless virgin.
Christ, that would take my patheticness to new levels I wasn’t ready to face.
One time to fully imagine. Just once, and then it’ll kill the fantasy.
I let out a groan as I shoved my blanket off and wrapped my hand around my dick. I gripped it tighter as I imagined making the quick walk to her. She would say something snarky about waking her as she looked up at me with sleepy eyes. Eyes that would heat even as she rolled them.
But she would listen.
Obey when I ordered her to the floor.
When I demanded she open wide and stick that sharp tongue out to taste me.
I moved my fist in time with my fantasy.
Starting slow and at the tip, I increased the speed and distance of my strokes as I imagined her adjusting to my size enough to take more.
Her desperate breaths would be quick bursts she timed around my thrusts as I fucked her face.
As she relaxed enough to take me in her throat.
My balls tightened, and I could’ve come. I wanted to. Needed to. I should’ve to get it over with.
But if I was only giving myself the one time, I was damn sure gonna make it worth it.
I released my grip but kept the fantasy reel rolling in my mind. I breathed deep as I pictured swapping places with her. Tasting her sweetness as she fought for control she would never get. Working her till she was crying. Begging me to fill her.
Even in my own head, I couldn’t decide how I wanted her.
I started stroking again, and my visual swapped from her riding me to her under me before settling on me taking her from behind.
The scenery changed involuntarily till we were at Rye with her elbows on the bar like the day before.
Only that time, I was behind her. Filling her. Grabbing that thick ass and slamming—
I came hard, my brain blanking of everything but Lo taking all my cum and pleading for more.
Fuuuuuck.
My clenched muscles loosened as I panted. It took longer for my brain to kickstart again. Even then, I had to use every ounce of energy I had left to force myself to the bathroom to clean off my dick and abs.
I looked in the mirror.
And then wiped the spots on my chest.
I returned to my room before going back for the washcloth because I had to clean my headboard, too. It would’ve been impressive if I wasn’t so disgusted with myself for letting her get under my skin, even temporarily.
When I collapsed into bed, I thought I would fall right to sleep. Didn’t happen. My brain was too busy running a fuckin’ highlight reel of the fantasy mixed with memories of the day.
I’m a fuckin’ idiot.