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I shook my head, feeling stupid, but I laughed anyway. “I like…” I ran a hand up and down my face. “One of my friends had a girl in the media room this summer,” I said, starting over. “It was late, we were all really lit, and the mood was getting heated. He started kissing her and feeling her up, nothing I haven’t seen before, but she would look over at me, probably expecting that I would join in, but…”

I inhaled a deep breath. I didn’t feel like I was safe right now. I didn’t feel like I was hiding in this dark, fucking confessional with a screen between me and this girl I may or may not know. I should shut up.

But part of me didn’t want to. Every wo

rd brought me closer to the edge. Closer to falling. I wanted to fall.

I continued. “Something kept me rooted in my seat this time. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, but I couldn’t move, either.”

The girl on the other side remained quiet, but I knew she was still there.

“I didn’t want to move,” I confessed. “And she couldn’t take her eyes off me, either. She straddled him, fucking him, but her eyes were on me the whole time.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering the sight of her grinding on him. But it was all for me. Everything she did was to keep me watching. I controlled her.

“I could see her chest moving faster with her breathing, the sweat on her neck, her nervous eyes…. She didn’t know what I was going to do. She didn’t know if I liked what I was seeing or if I was going to pounce at any second. She was scared. And excited.”

She had no idea what I was thinking. How I liked what she was doing for me without laying a hand on me. I wasn’t communicating with my hands or my mouth, just my eyes all over her body, and it drove her crazy not knowing. God, she loved it.

“He fucked her,” I said, “but I was the one who made her come.”

I realized my pants felt tighter, and I reached down to adjust myself, grunting under my breath at the ache.

“Sordid, right?” I said. “Disgusting, sleazy, vile…”

“Yeah.” But I heard a smile in her voice. “So, what did you do about it?”

“What do you mean?”

Her fingertips pressed against the screen again. “You must’ve been turned on after that. What did you do?”

I held in my nervous laugh. She didn’t miss a beat, did she? “You’re skinning me alive right now, kid.”

A breathy laugh escaped her, and I could nearly make out her lips close to the screen.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Old enough to have seen and heard worse,” she replied. “Don’t worry. Now what did you do after that?”

“I can’t…” I breathed out. “I didn’t…. I didn’t do anything.”

But she waited. She knew I was lying.

I licked my dry lips, dropping my voice so low, I didn’t know if she could hear me. “I didn’t wait for my friends to get up and leave in the car to go get food,” I told her. “And I didn’t wait for the girl to trail down the hallway to the bathroom or for her to step into the shower. I didn’t follow her or turn off the lights, scaring her…”

The memory of her gasp rang in my ears, and the world tilted in front of me. The dark bathroom, the swaying shower curtain, the steam I could already smell…

“It’s okay,” Mystery Girl said when I remained quiet.

“I didn’t like frightening her or making her scream.” I clenched my teeth, dropping my head into my hand. “Or climbing into that shower and grabbing her and feeling her come apart in my hands…”

My fingers slid through my hair, shame burning my face but also a weight lifting off my shoulders. If this kid didn’t run, then maybe I wasn’t so bad, right?

Right?

“And I didn’t love every second inside of her tight body—”

“No, don’t,” she urged, stopping me. “Don’t say anymore. Please.”


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance