“Having fun. Try it with me.”
I don’t know much about her life in San Francisco, but with the way she has been acting during this trip, one would think she was deprived of all the things she loved.
Dahlia crawls up toward the headboard and sighs loud enough to make our neighbors pause whatever the hell has them counting aloud like they’re learning their numbers.
Holy shit. Tell me she isn’t doing what I think she is doing.
She grabs the headboard with her right hand and shoves it with all her might. We could all hear a pin drop with the way everyone, including our neighbors, remains quiet.
“Did you hear that?” the woman asks.
“Fuck if I care. Let them listen,” the guy admits.
“I won’t lie. That’s kind of hot,” Dahlia says as her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink.
I choke on my inhale. “What?”
A female moaning on the other side of the wall has my eyes widening.
“Put your finger up my ass like the last time,” the guy grunts.
“Still find that hot?” I rasp.
“Only if he loves it.” Dahlia’s eyes glitter in a way I haven’t seen since college, right before everything went to shit.
Fuck. Based on the way the guy is groaning, it’s safe to say he enjoys whatever is being done.
Dahlia rattles the headboard again, making the couple quiet down.
Damn me straight to hell if I ruin her fun. I’m not sure she had much of it while dating that tool, and for once, I want to be the reason behind her smile.
Screw it.
I rock back and forth hard enough to make the headboard bang into the wall. Instead of our neighbors worrying, they seem to be encouraged by our eavesdropping.
“Where do you want me?” Dahlia’s husky voice has my dick standing to attention.
“Sitting on my face sounds like a good start.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” I tap my lips. “Spread your legs and show me what’s mine.”
Her face goes from pink to red. “I— We—”
“If you’re going to run your mouth, might as well do it with your lips wrapped around my dick.”
She grabs the nearest pillow and launches it at my head, only for me to deflect it.
I trace a line from her neck to her tomato-red cheek with the tip of my index finger. “Someone’s shy.” After all the years of dealing with her constant teasing, it feels good to be on the other end of it.
Her nostrils flare. “Cut it out.”
“Why? Afraid you might like it?”
“Like I could want your cock anywhere near my mouth.”
“Does that mean the other two holes are available?”
“Only if yours is too, mi amor.” She swipes her thumb across my bottom lip.
Fuck. Me, along with our neighbors, both shut up. Her comment shouldn’t be hot, but damn, my dick feels hard enough to snap in half.
Dahlia is breathing so heavily that I question if she might shoot fire from her nostrils.
You took things too far. Way too far.
“Dah—”
She straddles my lap and slams her right hand over my mouth. “Shh. No names,” she whispers.
“Sorry.” My reply is muffled.
She moves to slide off my lap, but I hold her in place by clamping my hands around her hips.
We both stare into each other’s eyes.
What are you doing?
Her gaze drops toward my lips, which tingle from a single glance.
Something I will probably regret.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
She seems to come to her senses first as she attempts to wiggle out of my grasp, only for her eyes to bulge.
“Are you…” She swallows hard enough for me to see before shifting her hips again, making me hiss as she grinds against my erection. “Oh my God.”
“Stop.”
“You’re hard,” she announces, her cheeks flushed. “Is it because—”
Something loudly crashes against the wall, followed by another moan.
“Take a guess,” I snap.
She swivels her hips, and my head drops back with a groan. The giggle she unleashes has me battling two different emotions—neither of which are good.
She trails a finger down my chest. “I’m flattered.”
“Shut up.”
“No. To know I affect you like this…” She presses her fingers to her lips and makes a kissing sound. “Justice is served.”
“I’ll show you justice.” I grip the back of her neck and pull, dragging her toward me. Her eyes shut as she leans forward, only for them to snap open at the ear-splitting sound of our neighbors finding their release.
Dahlia shoots off the bed and dashes toward the other side of the room while I drop my head back against a pillow and groan.
I don’t need a pro-con list to remind me of all the reasons kissing Dahlia is a bad idea. It would only complicate things more, and with everything going on in our lives, it’s best not to rock the boat when it’s more structurally compromised than a sinking Titanic.
I climb out of bed, grab my phone, and head toward the bathroom while shielding Dahlia from my raging hard-on. My voicemail is clogged with messages from my mom, Sam, and Rafa, all of which I ignore for a hot shower.
Jacking off is the smartest choice, although thinking about Dahlia while doing it is most definitely not. At first, I try to resist, but my task seems impossible as I’m flooded with images of her.
I work myself to the array of ideas floating in my head from our theatrical performance.
Her sitting on my face.
My tongue and mouth fucking her until she threatens to cut off my oxygen supply.
Her lips wrapped around my cock—licking, kissing, sucking—as she wrecks my world with a single orgasm.
My spine tingles with each frustrated tug, and my breathing quickens until I’m gasping at the fantasy of Dahlia choking on my cock while swallowing my release.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
The final image has me exploding. I ride out my orgasm while fisting my dick, pumping hard enough to make me hiss.
It’s not until I come down from the high and am thrust back into reality that I realize what I did. Thinking about fucking Dahlia is one thing, but coming to the vision of her? That’s a whole other level of fucked up.
I wait for the shame to sink in, but it never comes. Instead, my mind spirals with the possibility of what might happen if I stopped ignoring the obvious.
Fighting my attraction toward Dahlia is a losing battle, and if there is one thing I hate most, it’s being defeated by her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Dahlia
I should have known today would be a disaster from the moment I woke up in Julian’s arms as he grumbled my name in his sleep. It wasn’t the idea of him dreaming of me that scared me, but rather the way it made me feel.
Our day quickly took a drastic turn into uncharted territory, and I feel like a lost ship trying to navigate a brewing sea of mixed emotions.
I press my ear against the bathroom door after hearing a strange noise coming from inside. Goose bumps spread across my skin when Julian groans my name, followed by a curse. My skin burns at the sounds, and I’m overwhelmed by a new sensation tugging at my lower half.
You could suggest a friends-with-benefits kind of thing.
Except Julian and I aren’t friends.