Page 103 of The Black Table
Masturbation is…kind of a gray area, from what I gather. Very don’t ask, don’t tell. Never interviewed the other guys on their schedules or anything, but I’d be shocked if they aren’t beating off atleastevery few days.
Anyway. If I make it quick, it barely counts, right?
I breathe out hard and brace my left hand against the shower wall so my right can get to work.
Won’t take much, I immediately realize. As soon as my eyes are closed I can see her, smell her, practically fucking taste her, and my dick throbs so hard in my hand I actually feel a little dizzy. I sink my teeth into my lip and rub faster. Harder.
Green eyes. Flushed cheeks. Dark hair flowing over all that pale skin, knotted in my fist to pull her back and?—
Knock, knock.
“Fuck.”
I clutch the wall, eyes open, heart pounding like fucking apoplexy.
I don’t mean to scream, but the sound actually scared the shit out of me.
“Sorry,” comes a voice.
Her voice.
Oh, fuck.
I clear my throat, drop my traitorous idiot dick, pinch the bridge of my nose and beg for the shower to drown me somehow.
“I was just…I left my hairbrush in there, and Morgan’s coming to pick me up in a few minutes?—”
“I’m…” My voice sounds weirdly strangled. Fuck. I clear my throat another dozen times. “Yeah. Gimme a sec.”
I wrench the water all the way to cold and stand there untilit’s…done its job. Then I shake myself like a dog, smack myself in the face, and yank a towel from the stack.
When I open the door, she looks…
Goddammit. She looks so nice.
“Oh,” Gwenna says. “You didn’t have to…I could’ve waited for you to finish.”
For. Fuck’s. Sake.
She had to say that.
I grip the towel in my fist so hard I’m going to break a finger.
“S’all good,” I manage. “Just not, uh…used to close quarters with a lady.”
I step aside, stupidly, to let her slip in and grab the hairbrush. Good thing I didn’t know it was in there or I might have tried to smell it or something like the absolute pervert that I am.
“Thanks.” She ducks back out.
“Mi baño es tu baño,” I say. “Literally.”
I’m antsy to get back in, shut the bathroom door and shove a washcloth in my mouth so I can rage scream at how fucking stupid I am, when?—
“Hey, Kai?”
I skid to a stop, door ajar. “Mm?”
“I, uh…” Gwenna looks at the floor. Then up at me. “I never said thank you for the dresses. They were…” She blinks a few times, and I wait, mentally filling in the adjective:expensive, over the top, indulgent, expensive, impressive, expensive…
