“I know, right?” I tell him. “Needless to say, she didn’t get a second date, but I think her dog mated with a light pole, so I guess that’s something.”
When Knight makes another noise, I finally snap out of my own story and sit up. “Wait, can you hear me?”
I immediately zoom over to the shower. As I’m passing through the body wash on the stone inlay, I realize he’s not making noises of affirmation for my story. He’s making noises because he’s jacking off.
I’d be disappointed, but…it’s a sexy fricken cock.
“Oh!” I say, my eyes honed in on the way he’s fisting his dick, stroking in long, slow movements.
“You always do it slow like that,” I muse, standing under the rainfall spray with him.
When I manage to look up from his impressive erection, I peer at his face. His eyes are closed, and he has his other arm stretched out in front of him, his hand braced against the wall. His head is hanging down, and beads of water are drizzling from his dark hair and chin, falling to the floor in steady drips. I wish I could lean forward and lick the water right off him.
He groans again, and I’d bite my lip if my teeth wouldn’t go straight through, because the sound is so damn sexy.
His abs glisten with water, and the last remnants of soap slip between the muscles of his V before licking down his manhood and dropping to the tile floor. I envy those damn soap bubbles.
While I continue to ogle his body, he continues his steady stroke. Base to tip, slowly, slowly, slowly—like he’s purposely holding himself off. Then up and over the head, his thumb dragging roughly over the tip, before he goes right back down, his fist tight, gripping himself harshly.
I’m so turned on, which I don’t think should technically be possible since I don’t have a body with feels, but watching him like this? It makes me feel more real than anything.
I lean forward and exhale, trying to give him an added dose of Lust, but of course, no pretty pink mist comes out.
“Shit,” I grumble. I slump back, disappointed. “Sorry, Knight. Looks like you’re on your own.”
He finishes as soon as the words leave my lips, his cum shooting out, splattering onto the floor and washing away immediately. He strokes himself two more times for good luck, and then finally drops his hold, sighing slightly.
“I know, man. Imagine how much better that would’ve been if you hadn’t been such a jerk and had taken that lovely date of yours home. It could’ve been her hands on your dick. Or better yet, her vagina. You missed out on lovely vagina, Knight,” I tell him. “Not that I saw her vagina, but let’s be real here, we both know it would’ve been a great one. She probably waxes. She seems like the type.”
He washes his hands and then rinses, turning the shower off as soon as he’s done. He grabs a white towel and dries off, draping it around his hips as he walks out to his bedroom. He puts on a pair of boxers and gets into bed, but instead of going to sleep, he drags out his laptop from the nightstand and starts typing away.
I get into bed with him, watching as he answers work emails and does a whole bunch of other things that I get too bored to pay much attention to. The dude is a real workaholic, and he has his hands dipped into several things. I hear him talking about it all the time. Real estate, internet start-ups, his men’s fashion line, restaurants, stocks, production companies, you name it.
“You should rest, Knight. You don’t sleep enough,” I tell him.
I hover over the blankets next to him, running my translucent hand over his arm. There are circles under his eyes to prove my point. Most nights, when I’m able to slip away from my partner and come watch him, he stays up way too late and then gets up way too early. All he does is work and sabotage his own love life. Nothing fun. Like I said, he’s the worst bachelor ever.
He doesn’t even have a proper bachelor pad. This place is all luxury, without a single sock left on the floor or dish in the sink. He doesn’t have a maid who picks up after him, either. I know, because one time a work associate