to get it. I’d been wrong before, about not settling. At least if I’d settled, it would have meant the guy actually wanted to kiss me back. It would have meant I could look back on it with something other than this awful churny feeling in my stomach.
He’d looked so horrified. So regretful. I don’t even blame him. He still thinks I’m a kid, and even though we laughed about him owing me one, the root of this is guilt. Reyn feels guilty about the fact I’m a pathetic, crippled, virgin loser and yeah, he took one for the team.
I cross the room and change, trading out one shirt for another. It’s a nightly ritual, as is my habit of sneaking a peek out my bedroom window to see if Reyn’s awake. I carefully slide the curtain aside and look across the gap in our yards. Sure enough, his light is on. The difference is that he’s not sprawled on the bed, like usual. Tonight, he’s sitting on the edge, his profile in full view. He’s wearing a shirt with the sleeves torn off, and one arm is reclined back, propping him up. His jaw is locked tight, and from here, it looks like he’s in some kind of pain. His other arm is moving lazily in his lap, and I furrow my brows at it.
What is he do—
Oh my god.
Oh my god!
My heart thuds in my chest as I realize what’s happening and I drop to my knees, chin level with the windowsill. He’s jerking off. Talk about horrified. I glance away, but barely a second passes before I look back again, my eyes drawn to his motions. He isn’t facing me, so I can’t see that much of him.
At least, not until he falls back on his elbow.
Abruptly, I get an eyeful of his erection—his cock, Sydney would call it—standing alert. Even from a distance it seems huge, obscene, but his hand glides up and down the hard length of it, like he’s exceptionally familiar with the territory. Reyn isn’t afraid or in pain, he’s very much in control.
The pounding in my chest vibrates down my body, spreading warmth from the center of my belly. I feel like I have multiple heartbeats, one in my chest, one in my ears, and another pulsing hot between my legs. I can’t tear my eyes away from him. His motions aren’t frantic, they’re unhurried and precise, more than some mechanical means to an end. He’s enjoying it. He starts at the base and strokes upward, pushing toward the head. He rolls that in his palm, before tugging at the tip, jaw easing slightly. A shiver runs down my spine, which is in direct contrast to the heat I feel building beneath my skin. I shift, intending to ease the weight on my leg, but my body has a mind of its own, begging its own relief. A shaky sigh emerges when my hand pushes under the fabric of my panties, down to the warm heat below.
It’s with surprise that I find that I’m already wet.
Unlike the guy across the way, this is not familiar territory for me. I’d been too numb, too drugged up to worry about feelings like this for a long time. Like everything else, cutting back has given me an awakening for almost all things, physical and mental. As Reyn continues his pattern; stroke, push, roll, tug; I create my own, running the pads of my fingers over the slick nub, alternating between deep pressure and barely touching. A coil twists in my lower belly, spurned on as much by my own actions as what I’m watching. It’s terrifying, real, and distressingly beautiful. Reyn’s speed increases and his jaw slacks entirely, mouth hanging open. Other than the hand in my panties, rubbing and rolling against my slippery clit, I’m nearly frozen, watching as he pushes himself closer and closer to the edge. His eyelids shutter closed, and his nose wrinkles, while his teeth sink into the bottom lip I’d just been kissing hours earlier.
Oh god, the memory of his mouth on mine, the feel of his hand on my lower back, the press of his body is all it takes to send a ripple of pleasure through my core. I force my eyes open while the orgasm wracks through me, struggling to watch him because I know he’s close. I don’t know how I know, I just do. It’s in the way he’s biting his lip, head falling