Page 76 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

I quickly stop the living room feed from recording and delete the last ten minutes. I'm not going to risk Mike stumbling onto this.

Then I watch.

Watching her gets me fully hard. There's no denying or pretending this doesn't affect me more than it should.

She lifts her head and grabs her phone with her free hand.

My phone vibrates, confirming what I already suspect.

Londyn:Are you watching?

I stare at her text while my mind splinters. What do I say? How the hell do I respond when the rational part of me has built fortifications against this very thing, yet there's this reckless, starving part that's already halfway to her door?

This is nuts and inappropriate as hell. I'm supposed to protect her, not lust after her like some creep behind a camera lens. But shit, I'm so damn attracted that nothing else matters except wanting more of this side of her.

That spark and confidence I glimpsed in her Sundance movie is back. And she knows it.

I fight with myself for what feels like eternity before finally giving in and responding:Yes.

Londyn:I like knowing you're watching. I don't want you to look away. Just stay there and enjoy the show however you want.

Fuuuuuuuuck.

Every muscle in my body feels strung between opposing forces—professional distance pulling one way, this raw, unexpected hunger dragging the other. I've survived firefights with steadier hands than I have around her. The discipline that kept me alive through two tours has suddenly developed a critical weakness, one with brown eyes and a gorgeous smile. Londyn somehow found every pressure point I didn't know I had and is pressing them all simultaneously.

Her hands are still working between her legs and my pulse pounds through my entire body until all that's left is pure need.

I glance at Mike's closed door. He's passed out because I hear his snores through the walls.

Fuck it.

We've already crossed a line, haven't we?

Me:You're giving me a lot to look at.

I catch her sexy smile on the feed as she types on her phone.

Londyn:Would you like to see more?

No.

Me:Yes.

I watch in a half delirious state as she carefully pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and covers herself. She wiggles around a bit, then a hand appears with those black panties dangling from her fingers.

Part of me is still fighting this and I'm resisting the urge to palm my cock, but it's digging painfully at my jeans, needing release. I make fists against my thighs, still trying to maintain some composure.

Londyn isn't finished driving me wild, though. After more wiggling under that blanket, she reveals her bra next, tossing it on the floor.

The blanket sinks lower on her chest, barely holding on. Her shoulders are exposed like soft, ivory silk. I'm imagining running my tongue along that delicate skin and leaving small red marks where I suck.

Another agonizing twitch from my cock.

Holy hell I don't know how much more of this I can take.

Londyn:That enough?

Me:You're cruel.

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