Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
DOES HE KNOW HOW TO STUFF MY CRUST?
Normally a hot shower would do the trick in making me feel calmer, like hitting the reset button. But today it’s not enough.
Not after questioning my sanity, and definitely not when my body hums for every ridiculously handsome stranger I meet.
Or at least that’s what I tell myself when I decide to do more with my fingers than just soap myself up.
It started as a way to shut my brain off, to be in the moment, feeling the sensations my fingers know how to pull from my sensitive spots—my perpetual celibacy a curse at this point.
I’ve circled my clit, curled my fingers to hit my G-spot, even pictured the pizza man and Officer Stud Muffin taking turns finger fucking me, and my imagination runs wild, going as far as making me moan at imaginary growls.
But it doesn’t matter the pace, the angle, the filthy scenarios I cook up—my body just won’t follow through, everything wound tight and humming but refusing to tip over into anything.
And now it’s my turn to growl in frustration, feeling even more frazzled when the shower should have done the opposite.
“Fuck!” I yell into the hot spray of water, and lean against the wall, burying my face into my hands.
I can’t even give myself a decent orgasm for fuck’s sake.
“Kallie?” Casey’s voice comes from the other side of the bathroom, the question making him sound worried.
Shit.
I was obviously too loud. I open my mouth to tell him I’m okay, but the door swings open. I look up just in time to see him peeking his head in, his eyes landing on my face before lowering to take in the rest of me.
And there is absolutely nothing hidden from view currently. I’m just standing there, in the glass shower stall, wet, still soapy, and absolutely and completely frustrated.
It must also be obvious what I was doing because he steps fully into the bathroom then, closing the door behind him, wearing only boxer briefs.
I can’t quite make out the look in his eyes through the steam and wet glass, but he seems to be deciding something before he speaks again.
“Let me help.”
It’s not what I expect him to say. But it’s exactly what I needed to hear.
A strangled sob escapes me before I can swallow it down, the emotions catching up in this moment of vulnerability that was meant to be a release.
A release I can’t seem to fucking reach.
The sound makes him open the shower stall door, stepping in to look at me more closely.
The look in his green-hazel eyes makes my breath catch.
I can’t let him help.
It would undo all the trust, the relationship we’ve built.
Sex makes things complicated.
We are easy, meant to be, safe.
A single intimate act could undo all of that.
“Let me help, Kal. You need it. I need it. We can go back to being roommates tomorrow,” he reaches one hand up to cup the side of my face, stepping closer.
His gaze is earnest, open, completely sincere. And I’m drowning in it.
“Forget the walls, just for today. Let me in, Kal. Let me… help you get there. We’ll figure it out tomorrow. You can go back to pretending you don’t notice me shirtless, and I’ll… I’ll go back to being the good little roommate who doesn’t tell you he thinks about this every night.”
A watery laugh escapes, and damn it, he makes valid points.
I don’t even know why I have walls up anymore. They are exhausting to upkeep, especially when he is this hot.
Hotter now that he’s wet and his boxers are molding his very hard cock.
Fuck it.
He’s right.
Of all the bad decisions I have made lately, this one feels like the most reasonable one.
I grab him then, without another word, and kiss him, deeply, messily, our teeth clashing and our lips bruising, and I couldn’t care less about being appropriate, or even gentle, wanting—no, needing—to lose myself in sensation, to get lost in Casey.
He’s the perfect escape. No strings attached.
Or I hope so.
Like he said—a problem for tomorrow’s Kallie.
Today Kallie is getting an orgasm.
Casey groans as his hands circle my body, sliding lower to grip my ass, and he squeezes possessively, grinding his impossibly hard cock against my center.
Fuck yes.
Breaking our feverish kiss, I whisper against his lips, breathless, “Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to give me one mind-blowing orgasm—just one.”
I feel Casey’s lips stretch into a smile against mine, the words inspired by one of our favorite action movies landing with the intended effect.
He feels like home.
The thought hits me with the force of his kiss—a dangerous, undeniable truth.
And there’s no going back from this. Not really.
I pull him closer, trying to lose myself in the feeling instead of the fear.
“We can do better than just one, Kallie.”
He doesn’t let me say anything else before he pushes me against the wall, trailing kisses down my neck, my breasts, lavishing both with equal attention, before sinking lower and lower still, covering my entire front with a trail of burning kisses, bites and licks.
His hands follow, grasping my right thigh to raise it over his shoulder and exposing my already wet and raw pussy for his viewing pleasure.
My clit already feels swollen, my core already primed and ready to go, and I know under Casey’s skilled hands it won’t take me long to reach that peak.
Thank fuck.
Best idea ever.
Casey’s hot tongue traces a path from my backside all the way to the front, coming to rest around my bundle of nerves and sucking, hard, making my back arch and my gasp turn into a never ending moan.
I grab at his messy hair, now completely wet, to steady myself, my fingers sinking into the thick locks as he pushes one finger into my opening, then a second, and finds a rhythm that brings me to the edge in record time. Far quicker than I could get myself there.
Note to self: my roommate is incredibly good with his hands.
Casey matches the rhythm of his fingers with circles of his tongue, that inferno pooling low in my belly now building pressure and making me clench… everything.
God.
I’d expected him to be this good—hell, I’d thought about it more times than I care to admit—and still, the reality of it takes me by surprise.
Everything builds to a high point, hovering on the edge as my moans and pants come faster, my head thrown back against the tile, my eyes squeezed shut.
I pull at his hair involuntarily, making Casey moan against my pussy and adding just enough vibration to make my entire world explode.
“Casey! Fuck!” I gasp out his name, the second word morphing into a long drawn out groan that has me thrusting my hips against his face, and he lets me.
Casey just holds me, letting me ride out the wave without breaking contact, his presence a steady anchor in the storm.
Even when I’m fucking his face and fingers it seems.
Shit.
As if he can read my thoughts he curls his two digits in just the right way, making my orgasm crest into another one, not as explosive, but just as satisfying.
He continues to suck and lick at my skin until I come down, my breathing coming in heavy pants.
I open my eyes to look down at him, and the awe I feel is reflected right back at me, in hazel eyes that look so much greener post-orgasm and filled with lust.
He gets up then, setting my leg down gently, slowly and I realize that it feels like jelly.
“You have no idea just how sexy you are, roommate. Even without trying.”
I try to come up with a flirty quip, but I come up empty, my post-orgasm brain completely blissed out and strangely calm.
I clear my throat, and stand up straighter, and Casey helps me out of the shower stall, wrapping a thick towel around me.
I’m stepping out of the bathroom when I notice Casey lingering behind.
“I—uh—need to clean up,” he gestures vaguely at his crotch. “Like I said, you are sexy as hell, and you didn’t even have to touch me to make me lose control. Although pulling my hair definitely—helped.”
A self-satisfied smirk brightens his entire face, making me grin like an idiot.
I shake my head at his silliness, but also feel a warm sense of satisfaction at the idea that he came in his boxers simply because he made me come.
As I close the bedroom door behind me, I know deep in my heart that letting Casey go now is going to be impossible.
We’re going to have to discuss our future plans.
Ones that maybe can be tweaked to include a certain flirty-nerdy mechanic in them.