Chapter Forty One
Just as I’m starting to drift to sleep, just when I’ve grown accustomed to the lumpy mattress, my phone vibrates on the nightstand.
My eyes snap open, hand darting out instinctively.
Once it’s secure in my grip, I hold the device close to my chest, feeling the hammering of my heart.
Thankfully, there’s no movement behind me.
No shift in breathing, no questions, no sign that Everest has become alert.
I release a long breath and peer at the screen, effectively blinding myself in the process.
Thi: Tell me you haven’t murdered him yet.
Pulling the thin sheet higher over my head, creating a small hollow, I don’t fight my smile as I adjust the phone’s brightness.
Meg: He’s still breathing. That’s all I can confirm.
Thi: Disappointing. I had money on you snapping his neck within the first hour.
I press my lips together, a quiet huff escaping through my nose.
I did consider various options whilst feigning sleep in the back of Everest’s sports car.
One was to secretly sabotage this entire mission so I could hold my hands up and say, oh well, we tried.
But then I pictured Laura and knew my nerves or trauma or whatever other reservations I’m having will have to be put on hold for the next few days.
Next, I toyed with the idea of giving Everest actual food poisoning to slow us down for a few days, then I remembered we’re sharing a room and there’s a side of Everest I don’t ever need to hear or see.
And the third option of throwing myself out of the car whilst doing ninety on the freeway was cancelled out by the same argument as option one, so here I am.
Going along with Everest’s scheme in the hopes that something good will come out of it.
Meg: I’ve shown incredible restraint. You should be proud.
At Thiago’s short pause, I shift slightly. The sheet brushes roughly against my legs, and I already regret wearing short shorts and a cami. Just more exposed skin for the bedmites to access. My phone vibrates in my hand once more, before I have the good sense to put the ‘do not disturb’ on.
Thi: I always am.
My stomach somersaults over itself. Heat creeps up my neck, blossoming across my face. Thiago knows better than to be charming me in the effortless way he does. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I fight with myself for the right response. In the end, I settle for…
Meg: Don’t start.
Thi: Start what, Amorzinha? I’m just lying here in bed, thinking of you. All tucked up and warm and alone.
My eyes flick up to the tiny camera above the screen.
Surely he hasn’t hacked my phone’s feed, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t keeping tabs on me in other ways.
Whether through a camera across the road or the alias the receptionist typed into her aged computer, Thiago will know I’m sharing a room with Everest. Now, he’s goading me.
Meg: You already know the situation. Don’t make it any weirder than it has to be.
I swallow, awareness of just how close Everest is prickling at the back of my mind. Typing quickly, I add…
Meg: I made a pillow wall.
Thiago’s reply is instant, his smugness oozing out of the screen.
Thi: That’s cute.
More heat floods my cheeks, spreading down my neck as I tug the sheet tighter, as if that’s somehow going to soothe my blushing. Forcing my brows together, I purse my lips to withdraw another huff.
Me: No. It’s practical.
Thi: Do you know what isn’t practical?
I don’t even get a chance to guess before an image pops up on screen, and a strangled sound escapes from me.
Thiago is sprawled across dark sheets, one arm tucked behind his head and the other holding the phone at an angle to give me a full, encompassing view.
The low light drapes over his tanned skin, catching the sharp lines of his body to contour his abs.
He’s far too ripped for someone who spends his life hunched over a computer and surviving on caffeine, and he knows it.
A smug grin pulls at his mouth, pre-gauging my reaction.
That same confidence rolls down his body to the indented V above his groin where his cock stands proudly.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip before I can stop myself, my thighs pressing together instinctively.
It’s not just the image. It’s the fact that he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Toying with me whilst Everest is lying right there.
Is it a test? Knowing Thiago, I doubt it. He’s not the jealous type, despite his knack for tracking me everywhere I go. As long as I’m safe, he never comments on my movements or the bad decisions I’m sure he’s aware of. No, this is a challenge of wills, and I can already feel mine slipping.
Just as I’m about to shoot back a message, chastising him for being mischievous, another image comes through with the caption, ‘In case you wanted a close up.’ I already know what to expect this time, but it hits me like a punch to the chest regardless.
My lungs forget how to work properly as I flip my phone face down against the mattress like that might somehow undo what I just saw.
It doesn’t. If anything, it makes it worse, because the image is already burned behind my eyes.
With my face on fire, I manage to withhold a soft whimper as I turn the phone back up to face me.
His fist grips the base of his shaft, the veins bulging almost painfully.
Under the camera’s flash, every ridge is accounted for, every lickable inch present on the screen.
Dragging my lip into my mouth, I openly marvel at the silky smoothness, the rounded head, the girth that I know all too well.
Thiago may be a gentle lover, but he could cause some damage if the notion took him.
My core clenches again, tightening around his imaginary cock, wondering what it’d take for Thiago to lose control.
I’d like to see that one day. For his relaxed demeanor to take a break, his hands clawing through my hair, his hips snapping with a relentless assault.
My eyes glaze over, the images running away from me as I continue to stare.
Suddenly, I’m too hot, the sheet wrapped too tightly. I breach the cover, forcing air into my lungs, willing the cool air to soothe my hypersensitive skin. Remaining curled on my side, I’ve just got my throat functioning again when Thiago drops me another message.
Thi: Do you want to know what I’m thinking right now?
A tremor rolls through my shoulders. I do, I really do, but given the theme of these messages, I’m scared of whatever he might say or do next.
Meg: What?
Thi: How hot it is that you’re in bed with someone else, yet you’re getting wet over me.
I barely read the message, my pulse picking up in my throat.
The beat in my ears is roaring now, my focus drifting back up to the hard, rigid cock still visible on the screen.
I shouldn’t stare at it. I absolutely shouldn’t fantasize about it with Everest lying just inches away, one shift away from seeing something he absolutely shouldn’t, but I can’t seem to stop now.
Somehow with trembling thumbs, I manage to type out a reply.
Meg: You’re playing a very dangerous game.
The typing bubbles pop up on the screen, taking far too long to produce another message.
Growing impatient, I shift slightly, still hyper-aware of the mattress dipping beside me, of how close Everest actually is despite the stupid pillow barrier.
At last, after my eyes have been glued to the screen long enough for anticipation to build, the answer comes.
Thi: They’re the best kind. Sweet dreams, Amorzinha.
And just like that, Thiago’s green dot turns red, announcing he’s gone offline.
My mouth drops open. He never goes offline, yet here we are.
Me laying horny and purposefully unsatisfied, Thiago probably laughing to himself whilst fisting his cock, driving himself through his pleasure whilst I’m stuck to suffer in mine.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, exhaling slowly through my nose.
The ache between my legs heightens, desire coursing too viscerally to let me sleep now.
Payback is owed in the form of edging torture, that’s for sure.
Still curled on my left side, whilst severely aware that I always sleep on my right, I do everything I can to settle back into a slumber-like state. Yet every time I close my eyes, Thiago is waiting there.
His voice, his hands, how he looks at me like I already belong to him.
This doesn’t infuriate me the way it would with others.
Instead, more heat surges through me, becoming overwhelming as my grip tightens on my phone.
It takes more restraint than I’d like to finally lock the screen, sealing myself out of Thiago’s photos, and place the phone on the nightstand once more.
With my cheeks still burning and my breathing uneven in a way that has nothing to do with the uncomfortable mattress, I shift onto my back to stare up at the ceiling.
When that doesn’t help to ease the dull ache in my core, I twist onto my other side as gently as I can, careful not to cause the bedframe to creak.
My hair becomes trapped beneath my shoulder, my cami twisting into a constrictive casing, but eventually, I settle.
Exhaling softly, I sink my head into the pillow, my lids fluttering slightly.
Only then do I realize that, at some point when I wasn’t paying attention, Everest has also turned to face this way. His eyes are wide open, the glint of them reflecting the flashing neon sign bleeding through the paper-thin curtains.
“Oh, hi,” I whisper awkwardly, pulling my arms tight against my chest. It only serves to rub my hardened nipples and I instantly regret all of my life’s choices. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“I've been thinking,” Everest replies and I almost groan. Oh god, not him too. I swallow, my mind still reeling from Thiago's images. Wetting my lips, I try to keep my voice level.
“About what?”