Me:Does this make us even now?
I sent it before I could stop myself and immediately wanted it back. He’d already opened it, so there was no unsending.
Oh god, what had I done?
Any desire I had to get myself off shriveled up with mortal embarrassment. Adam hadn’t asked for my picture, and here I was, thrusting it on him without his consent.
Throwing myself out of bed, I stomped into the bathroom to wash my hands and splash some cold water on my floozy face. As I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering how I could have been so dumb, the sound of Adam’s shower turning on echoed off my tiled walls.
Like always, I could hear the water running like he was in the room with me. I drifted toward my glass shower and stepped in. His groan went straight to my belly. Something hit the wall, like a fist, and then there was another, longer groan.
My knees wobbled. I leaned against the tile, imagining he was right on the other side, stroking his cock. To me? Was he jacking off to my picture? In my head, he was.
A rush of heat flooded my core.
I’d crossed so many lines tonight, what was one more? I kicked off my panties and slid my fingers through my slick folds. Adam’s breathy grunts were in my ear as my fingers circled my swollen, needy clit. I had enough awareness to bite down on my hand to keep quiet, but that was the last of my logical thinking.
Slapping flesh, groans, fist slamming on tile was the soundtrack to my desire. I was consumed with the need to relieve the unbearable pressure between my thighs. It seemed like I was delirious with it. My fingers were frantic, picking up the pace at the sounds of his moans.
Sweet lord, I had to bite down so I couldn’t cry out. It was too good, too profound. No one was touching me, but Ifeltthe cold of his stainless steel teasing my burning flesh. His hot breath panting on my neck. His long, lean body covering mine completely.
A short, high cry escaped me as I fell into a frenzy, plunging fingers, pressing the heel of my hand against my throbbing clit. If Adam heard me, if he knew what he was hearing, he didn’t stop, and neither did I. I buried my face in my arm, muffling the burst of jagged cries that were impossible to hold back as I came and came and came.
From the other side of the wall, came a pained, “Fuck,” then a visceral, bone-deep grunt that nearly had me coming all over again.
Panting, I fell back on the stone bench. Adam’s shower turned off. He was finished, and I was destroyed. Boneless, all I could do was slump on the cold, rough tile, trying to catch my breath and not think about what I’d just done.
My phone rattled on the counter beside the sink. I didn’t want to, but I got up and crossed the bathroom like I was about to face a firing squad. With my eyes closed, I turned on the screen. I cracked one lid at a time, then finally read the message.
Adam:Never deleting that.
Like I’d taken a punch to the gut, I fell forward on the counter and exhaled a heavy, ragged breath. What was happening right now?
Me:I’m not deleting yours either.
Adam:We’re not fucking this up, are we? I need you as my friend more than I need anything, Baddie. I’m not gonna give that up, even if it means forgetting how hot you look in your little lacy panties.
Me:It’s just a picture. Anyone with Google can see pictures of me in lacy panties. We’re good. We’re friends.
Adam:Am I gonna have to buy Google so I can wipe every picture of you off it? I do not like what you just said.
Me:If it makes you feel less like buying and destroying the internet, no one has ever seen a picture of me like that.
Adam:That helped slightly. I’m coming over.
He was knocking on my door, and I was still naked from the waist down. I threw on underwear and leggings and yanked the door open. Before I could speak, Adam reached out, ruffled my hair, then slung his arm around my neck.
“All’s right, isn’t it?” he murmured into my hair.
“Yeah. All’s right,” I agreed.
And it was, except maybe it wasn’t.
Because when he held me, there were butterflies in my stomach that hadn’t been there before. And something darker and lust filled clouded a part of my mind that needed to be clear when it came to Adam Wainwright.
He closed the door, locked it, and sauntered into my apartment. My feet were stuck.
“I know what you sound like when you come,” I blurted.