Of course he’s going—it’s at Jenn’s house.
“Only because you’re going to be there.” He sits up from the bed and writes down the number.
After stuffing his list in his back pocket, he holds out his hand to help me up. I stare at it for a moment, then up at him.
“Why are you doing all of this?”
That sad smile forms on his face again. “You know why.” He reaches out and strokes his fingers against my cheek, sending a shiver through me. “I love you, and I’m doing everything I can to make you see it. To see how much I can’t live without you.”
Right now, I hate the reaction I have to his words. I want to jump him, kiss him, be with him, but I also hate him.
I’m lost, unsure what to do with the war raging inside me.
June 13th, 2015
“I love you, and I’m doing everything I can to make you see it. To see how much I can’t live without you.”
He can’t live without me. Yeah-fucking-right. After years of doing such a great job at it, he expects me to believe that now.
And he did do a great job. We all know that.
Brayden says he was miserable while we were separated.
I honestly wish I could believe that.
But I don’t. I never will. So whatever he has to say doesn’t matter.
Speaking of the devil himself, my text notification tone rings out.
Let me see your costume.
I stare at said costume laid out on my bed and swallow.
It’s provocative. Beyond sexy. I know that. I knew that when I picked it. No, I hadn’t known Brayden would be at the party the day I bought the costume, but now I know he will.
He’s going to see me in it.
Damn it. I’m so fucking horny. I’ve been like this forever.
Thinking about his reaction the moment he sees me in my costume shouldn’t turn me on more.
It does.
Fuck, I need him.
I can’t have him.
This shit has to end already.
I don’t want to show you my costume. As a matter of fact, I don’t want you at the party at all.
It crosses my mind that I should put my phone down before he responds and I’m tempted to continue interacting with him.
Too late.
I’ll let you see a peek of mine if you show me a peek of yours, baby.
I’m smart enough to drop the phone on the bed. I know what’s coming through next—a picture.
Not smart enough to stop myself from wondering what his costume could possibly be. Knowing him, he’ll look devastating in it.
My mouth waters.
My * pounds.
God, what the fuck? I’m even more out of control than usual. It’s a good thing he’s in Columbus right now.
I fucked myself earlier in the shower. The same shower he jerked off in days ago. Up against the wet tiles, I rode my fingers until I had no choice but to scream out.
I despise the fact that it was his name I yelled out.
Thank God the house was empty.
My phone vibrates on my bed. I try to ignore it, stripping out of my clothes so I can start changing.
But getting naked only makes it worse. Nowadays, I can’t take off a single stitch of clothing without immediately imagining his hands on me.
Son of a bitch.
I grab my phone off my bed, frustrated that I’m such a slave to my impulses.
No stopping this. I tell myself I won’t do more than look. I won’t respond, it’ll be just this.
It’s a picture of his lower abs. That motherfucking V. He’s wearing light jeans, unbuttoned, and his hand is holding them open to better show off his abs.
The leather cuff is on his wrist, but it doesn’t matter. I know what’s beneath it now.
Want. Christ, how am I supposed to get fucking past this level of desire?
He enrages me to no end.
My legs weak, I walk over to my bed. I can’t even think of putting on my costume. I want to send him a picture, tease him back, but I can’t do that either.
The beat of my heart is so powerful through my body that it worries me. Want. Want. Want.
I sit on my bed, shaking.
My inner walls throb, my clit aching, in desperate need of attention.
I want his tongue all over my clit again, his lips sucking on it hard.
What’s wrong with me today? Why is it worse than before?
But I know why. This madness has been building for weeks.
No, lies. This has been building for years.
How am I going to resist him tonight of all nights when the insanity is stronger than ever?
Trembling, miserable, I pick up my phone. I can barely even type. Don’t come to the party tonight. Please.
There’s no waiting for his response. This pain has turned me into an animal. There’s only one thought. I need to come again, and my fingers won’t be enough this time.
I reach under my bed and pull out the case I bought to keep my vibrator in. I purchased it weeks ago, needing something thicker than my fingers to fuck myself with.
Because I can’t stop wanting Brayden’s thick cock pounding inside me.
My phone vibrates on my bed; I continue to ignore it, leaning back, spreading my trembling thighs.
My * lips are swollen and wet enough that I feel them slowly part with the movement.