Page 45 of Eye Candy

“Pass me a robe, please.”

She tossed it over her shoulder, and I stripped. I saw her shoulders tremble at the sound of my belt buckle hitting the tiled floor.

I brushed a hand over my cock, tucked inside my briefs and it jumped painfully. I imagined pulling it out and tugging it right there, letting her listen but not letting her turn around. I would jack myself hard. Fast. Then, when I was good and ready, she’d bend for me, and I’d paint that beautiful body and watch it run down her lovely back and over her ass.

I was a bad feminist. That was depraved. And I was a morality blogger, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t have any business developing feelings for a scammer, or imagining shooting my cum over her back.

Get it together Chase.

Because of how closely I was watching her, looking for any sign she was as affected as me, I saw when she physically shook herself.

“We should get out of the bathroom,” she said, turningaround. Her smile was determined. “I snooped earlier, and you have a laundry closet here in the actual apartment. Fancy. We can run your jumper through the dryer so it doesn’t get ruined.”

Jumper. What a weird word.

But she was right to get us out of here. My thoughts had veered into dangerous territory. So even though my cashmere ‘jumper’ definitely could not go through a dryer, I was going to follow her to the laundry closet.

I didn’t see the wet patch on the floor until my legs slid out from under me.

Floss tried to grab me, but she overbalanced. My body hit the tiles first, and she landed on top of me, expelling the air from my lungs and narrowly avoiding landing on my semi-hard cock.

“Holy Carol Channing! Chase, are you OK?” Her hands clutched at my chest, at my arms. “I’m so sorry!”

Each touch was exquisite agony. I grabbed her hands before she could accidentally grope too far.

“It’s fine,” I wheezed. “I’m fine. Just give me a sec.” She rolled off and I carefully pulled myself up to lean against the cool tile wall. Robes couldn’t hide an erection like this, and I didn’t try. I saw the moment she noticed, but still, we sat side by side in silence on my bathroom floor. Each deep breath I took made her flowery scent dance in my nose.

This whole situation was messy as hell. I was angry at myself for not being able to control this feeling and, suddenly, angry at her for provoking it. Then angry at myself for being an unfair piece of shit. It was a whirlpool; a cesspit.

I took some deep breaths. Ultimately, I was annoyed that she could waltz into my life and turn it upside down with her lies, then be the one helping me pick up the pieces. She’d helped me with my drunk brother. Passed me towels. Expressed worry over my clothing.

A tiny part of my brain knew that what I was feeling might not be about her, it might be about me. But I wasn’t listening to that part because it didn’t have majority blood flow.

I’d given in to this feeling before at Lueur, but that had been without forethought. Now I was painstakingly making a decision. I was tired of doing the right thing. Tired of resisting the irresistible.

Our gazes met, and I could see my desire mirrored in her eyes. “Tell me your real name,” I rasped, desperate for the key detail I needed to make this whole thing feel less sordid.

She answered softly, “Caroline. Caroline Holliday.”

“Caroline.”

She squirmed. “Yeah.”

“Hello, Caroline.”

CHAPTER 19

CAROLINE

It was even betterthan I’d imagined.

Chase said my name like he was rolling his tongue around a hard candy or a tight nipple. I couldn’t hide how much I wanted him. It was a self-destructive desire, but neither my pussy nor my heart was listening.

They’d decided: him.

I licked my lips, and his eyes caught the movement. Chase was right: I was a brat, because I loved the look of pained horniness on his face. I wanted to push him until he lost that starchy composure again and growled smutty things like he had at Lueur. I craved that with a desperation that was beginning to frighten me.

“This is inadvisable, Ted— sorry, Caroline.”

---