Page 84 of Delay of Game

December

Jordan

I camein my pants like a fucking teenager. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve barely been able to get hard in the last year since I started taking my antidepressants, let alone get myself off. But one night with Alice and I completely lost it.

She didn’t even touch me, and I bucked against her mattress, thinking about nothing except the sweet taste of her against my lips.

I lean against my door and knock my head back against the wood.Fucking embarrassing. She probably thinks I’m pathetic. I couldn’t even tell her. I just had to run away.

Peeling off my clothes, I throw them straight in the washer and jump into the shower, letting the hot water seep into my bones. Maybe it’ll scrub off the feeling of fucking this up.

I’m pretty sure this was my one chance at getting Alice back. Things have been good lately, we’re talking again, looking out for one another. And I just had to fuck it up.

I turn the water off and stand there in the shower until I’m cold and shivering, my forehead pressed to the cool, dark blue tile.

Idiot.

With a groan, I finally pull back, frustration building higher when I realize I don’t have a towel. I yank open the door to the hallway and I see Alice at the last possible second. I don’t have the chance to stop myself from barreling into her, so she ends up plastered against my wet and naked chest.

On instinct, my arms fly around her shoulders to steady her, and she yelps in surprise. Her nose is pressed against my chest, her small hands landing on my waist.

We stand there for a long moment, looking at one another with wide eyes. Her lips pull to the side in the smallest grin as she says, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

I exhale an amused breath and step back, only to realize that I’m buck fucking naked. My gaze drops to her robe, which is covered in water splotches, the material turning see-through.

“What are you doing here?”

She sighs, a tad exasperated, and crosses her arms. The see-through part rides up and I can see her stiff nipple poking at the fabric.

I swallow and slowly bring my hands down to cover my already hardening cock. Alice notices anyway and looks down at my hands, but she doesn’t linger on my dick. Instead, her wide eyes turn glassy and she takes a step towards me, lips parted.

“J,” she utters my favorite nickname, hand outstretched, her fingertips grazing the long and ugly scar at my hip.

Every instinct I have tells me to turn her away, to not let her see the ugliest parts of myself. But my body doesn’t move. I stand as still as I can and close my eyes at her touch. She’s gentle, tracing the length of the scar with her thumb, leaving goosebumps in her wake.

When I open my eyes again, her blue gaze is already on me. “I need you to tell me why,” she says, frowning.

“Why what?”

“You said you can’t do this. With me. Why?”

My eyebrows scrunch together. I never said that. Did I? I was so focused on the fact that I came in my pants that I didn’t even realize what came out of my mouth.

“That came out wrong. I just—” I blow out a breath, my fingers twitching to take her back into my arms. Instead, I keep them firmly in place to hide my ridiculous boner.

“No more secrets, please,” she whispers.

I bite my lip and nod. “I can’t do this without making a fool of myself. I haven’t had an orgasm in months, and I came in my pants like a horny teen.”

Alice looks at me, slack jawed, and shakes her head. “Wait, months?”

I blush and look away towards the safety of my bedroom. Maybe I can make a run for it still, get out of this conversation. She follows my gaze and narrows her eyes at me, blocking the way and crossing her arms.

My shoulders deflate and I groan. “Yes, months. I’ve had a hard time because of my medication. Happy?” I snap, even though I don’t mean to.

Alice blinks and drops her arms back down. “Oh. Okay,” she says with a slow nod. “That’s understandable. Why would that make you look like a fool?”

“Did you forget about the part where I came in my pants?” I snort.

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