Page 61 of Playing Pretend

My good little girl.

I swallow, fighting the urge to pant. Air congeals in my lungs. A whimper builds in my throat, one I desperately want to release. I close my eyes, sinking into sensation.

My good little girl.

Lust clogs the back of my mouth, adding delicious pressure to my tongue. I imagine his cock between my lips, the erection he’d clenched now sliding as deep down my throat as my inexperience will allow.

I know it’s wrong. Fetishizing my friendship brings complications and strings even when I’m the only one involved. But it’s the alcohol’s fault. The lowered inhibition. The constant, agonizing ache.

I won’t let these feelings claim me in the morning. I’ll be stronger. Less impulsive. But for now, I need to rock my hips. Slow. Timid.

The bedding doesn’t move. It’s the building orgasm that shakes my mental foundations.

I quicken the pace of my fingers. Bite harder into my cheek. I’m almost there… About to come…

“I thought masturbation was frowned upon?” Rome murmurs.

I gasp, my eyes snapping open.

I don’t say a word. Don’t move an inch. I stare, wide-eyed toward the pitch-black ceiling, hoping for death.

“Don’t get me wrong.” His voice is stronger this time. “I’m happy to offer assistance. All you have to do is say the word.”

Holy shit.

Holy. Motherfucking. Shit.

“Be quiet, Rome.” My tone is raspy. Ridiculously breathy. “I’m trying to sleep.”

“Whatever you’re doing on the other side of this fortress is most definitelynotsleep. And I’m proud as punch. You’re remarkably quiet where movement is concerned. But you need to get that rapid breathing under control.”

I try. I try so goddamn hard but… My. Lungs. Are. On. Fire.

“So can I lend my expertise?” he asks. “Because at this point, it seems cruel to leave me on the sidelines after you shut me down this morning.”

“Go to sleep.”

“While you play in the Garden of Eden right beside me? What do you think I am, a miracle worker?”

“Go tosleep.” I bounce recklessly as I turn away from him.

“You can keep saying that, but it doesn’t make the action more achievable.”

There’s a slide of fabric, followed by a muted thud. It happens again. And again. Is he destroying my fort?

“Stop it.” I slap my hand down on the last remaining pillow only to have him yank it out from beneath me. “What are you doing?”

He slings the remaining brick from my shield into the darkness. “I’m getting rid of the Great Wall of Fucking Stupidity so we can talk.”

I amnotchatting about this.

I’m not chatting aboutanything.

All I want to do is hold my breath until I suffocate. I throw back the covers, ready to make another escape to the sanctuary of the bathroom only to be pulled back by a hard yank on my sleep shirt.

“Don’t get defensive.” There’s a warning in his tone. “God knows I would’ve fisted my dick as soon as the lights went out after what happened in the pool if I thought you’d let me get away with it.”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” I plead. “Can you please just let me sleep?”

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