“Look at you fuck my hand,” I say. “Don’t you wish it were my dick?”
“Yes. Oh God, yes,” she says, going faster. Her head pushes back against the tree as her back arches. The tightening of her pussy around my fingers is fucking amazing, and I can only imagine how my cock is going to feel when it’s finally surrounded by her walls. I give her a few more finger thrusts before she stops pulsing, her breathing labored and her eyes hooded with lust. I kiss her deeply as I pull my hand out, and I make her watch as I lick my fingers, sucking each and every one of them clean.
I set her down gently; her legs wobble, and I smile within, knowing that I did that to her. Her hand reaches for the button on my shorts, but I stop her before she can get it undone because all I can see is Aspen and the way she looked at me the night that everything changed. And as much as I want to watch Kim suck my dick, I don’t want her to think that was why I just got her off. Fuck, I hate sounding like a pussy.
“I want a turn,” she says, her eyes finding mine. Oh, how I want to watch my dick move in and out of her mouth, but I can’t. The last image I have of getting a blow job is with Aspen, and I shouldn’t be thinking about her right now. It’s not fair to Kim.
Instead I do something I never thought I’d do in front of another person, let alone someone who I enjoy spending time with. I step back, undo my pants, and reach into my boxers to pull my dick out. Her eyes widen and I swear to God she licks her fucking lips, but that’s not enough to make me change my mind. I stroke myself once, stop briefly to spread my pre-cum around as some lubrication, then continue to move my hand up and down my shaft without taking my eyes off Kimberly. Each motion brings me closer to the edge, closer to blowing my wad in front of this woman. I want to know what she’s thinking. Does she think I’m weird? Probably so, but it’s the heat of the moment and nothing can change what we’ve done out here, away from everyone else.
I grunt as my release builds, my hand going faster. A small whimper escapes as I jerk out into the open, away from her. I bend over and let my seed squirt to the ground, away from my clothing. I’m unable to look at her, fearful of what her reaction might be. Once I’m tucked away, I seek her out, but her expression is unreadable. She stops in front of me, careful to walk around the puddle of cum on the ground. She touches my arm gently, but the rest of her is standoffish. As I reach for her she steps away.
“We should go,” she says, heading toward her horse. I don’t know what happened, but I can’t imagine she’s pissed that I didn’t let her give me a blow job. Aren’t most women happy when they aren’t on their knees sucking dick?
With what little self-esteem I have left, I mount my horse and fall in line behind her on the trail. Even with her riding her horse, her ass still sways, mocking me.
Chapter 8
Kimberly
“Daphne?” I yell her name the second I walk into her apartment. She peeks around the corner from her kitchen with a big grin on her face. Daphne lives alone near downtown San Diego. Her apartment is a great escape for me, but I’m rarely here. All her walls are painted ice blue with white accents, very ocean-like, and there always seems to be a cool breeze even though I know it’s not possible considering where we live.
“How was he?”
I blanch at her question and instantly feel my face turning red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say coyly.
“I can smell BS a mile away when it comes to you, Kimmy. You texted saying you were coming over, and I usually have to beg to get you off the compound. Yet here you are.”
For years Daphne has called Serenity Springs a “compound,” even going as far as to call it a “cult,” but we’re not. Everyone has the freedom to leave if they choose. Including me.
“What makes you think it has anything to do with a guy?” I ask, sitting down on her couch.
“Because I listen when my bestie has issues at two in the morning.”
“It was one,” I mutter, sighing deeply.
Daphne walks into her living room and hands me a cup of cocoa. It’s her fix-all. Her mother and grandmother used to do the same thing when we’d come home with broken hearts.
“Thanks.” I bring the steaming cup close to my face and inhale the chocolaty goodness that awaits me once it cools down. On the coffee table, she’s set a plate of ladyfingers.
“Is he really that gorgeous?”
I nod, reaching for a ladyfinger to dip into my drink.
“And he’s famous?”
This time instead of answering, I dip the ladyfinger into the hot chocolate and eat the softened morsel.
“Like how famous?”
“You know him,” I say, stuffing my face.
“Well, I’ve checked all the tabloids and no one is mysteriously missing or entering rehab, so I guess I’m flying blind.”
“I’m sorry. You know I’d tell you if I could.” I set my cocoa down and curl into her couch. Daphne does the same thing, letting her brown hair fall to the side.
“So was he good?”
I close my eyes, remembering everything that happened between Bodhi and me while we were out on our horseback ride.