I was just as nervous at the potential of having to spend time with him, only the two of us, but I would not let him know it. Because I shouldn’t be nervous. Not one little bit.
“Get a grip, Ben.” He was just a man. But considering my loins were practically vibrating, this development wasn’t going to do anything to keep my libido in check. “I think we can handle making up some bags.”
We were adults. We could shove stuff in bags in awkward silence. Although…
The only thing you want him to shove is his cock in your—
I turned, giving him my best friendly smile. “I’ll bring the beer, you bring the snacks.”
“Thank you, Grace.” The fact that I’d handled Ben was evident in the release of tension from Everly’s shoulders. I would do anything for my best friend. Even spend time with the one man I wanted to stay far away from.
I shoved a couple more beers and two more slices of pizza down my throat then everyone called it a night. I was finally alone, settling into my bed for the evening—the couch in the family room. But I wasn’t tired. My brain and body were revved up and my hands itched for action.
I fiddled around on my computer, doing a search on Elle Cosmetics. Tomorrow I had a meeting with the CEO. I hadn’t planned on working for someone else, but business had dried up. Considering that I had zero prospects and no idea where my next paycheck was going to come from, I couldn’t say no.
But knowing that Ben was just upstairs stole my focus.
I rummaged in my bag and pulled out my knitting needles. Just another one of the hobbies I had taken up to try and keep myself occupied, and my mind off sex.
Loop. Pearl. Loop. Pearl.
I focused on my breath. It usually did the trick, a few deep, cleansing ones and all was right with the world. But not tonight.
It was no use. Not with Hottie McLockwood sleeping right above me.
I hated that he brought out the worst in me. He brought out Jade—the only means I had to protect myself, and my heart, from him. But there was one thing I did know. There was no way I was going to sleep tonight, not without release.
I threw the needles down, opening my laptop and searching through my downloads. There was one file that I had promised myself I’d only watch once.
It was an old White Lace scene with Ben as the lead male, but you don’t see his face. It was only his voice, his hands, and his unmistakable cock. I p
layed the video, replacing my face with the redhead’s.
What level of pathetic was watching your crush screw another girl in a legitimate porn film? And how much higher on the pathetic scale did it put me if I admitted it turned me on?
With a groan I let my hand travel down my stomach to find the hem of my tank top. I slipped my fingers underneath, finding bare skin, and moved them up over hot skin to my breasts. I kneaded one through the cotton of my bra, while my other hand had a mind of its own. It went the opposite direction and slipped below my pajamas right into my panties.
I was already hot and slick, my fingers penetrating—
“Shit!” A startled voice sounded from the doorway. “I’m sorry. Shit.”
I froze, hand still inside my pants, eyes still watching Ben’s big hand squeeze the girl’s breast as his cock thrust inside her. He’d just caught me red-handed. With my fucking hand down my fucking pants, watching a video of him and some random chick fucking.
Fuck!
Unfortunately for me, I had my head to the door and he could see the screen perfectly, but thank God for small favors. I hadn’t put the sound on.
I craned my neck, finally mustering the courage to look in his direction. He’d wrapped his hand across his eyes like a five-year-old, which was charming, considering he’d seen a lot more of me in a much more compromising position.
He’d manhandled me that afternoon. And I’d loved it.
My embarrassment, coupled with my frustrated memory of how easily I had caved to his demands, brought out a certain rage, and I yelled, “Don’t you fucking knock?” I slammed my laptop shut. “You can’t just watch me.”
“You don’t have a door.”
I let out a heavy breath, and sat up, pushing the laptop off my legs.
He finally looked at me, and when our eyes locked, my entire body heated. I felt them everywhere; on my face, on my chest, and between my legs. They were always so intense. Always scrutinizing. Always drinking me in. Like he was trying to find my best angle or my greatest attribute, as if he was trying to figure out how to make me look good on camera.