Page 49 of Resting Grump Face
Desperate, and tired from being desperate, I finally reach for my phone, navigate to my browser and open Pornhub. I tap the search bar and muse what would get me off in that moment. Ryker’s grumpy face flashes before my eyes as I slowly begin circling my nipples with the tips of my fingers. At this point, it doesn’t take much to get the motor running. Really, the motor has been running for hours already. It’s like I was mentally edging myself the entire time. So I allow my fingers to slide down my belly and dip right into that wet pool between my legs. A slight moan escapes my lips.
Without intending to, I imagine his dark black hair, those deep dark eyes, and his unfairly symmetrical abs. My fingers begin circling my clit, while my other hand starts typing:‘happy blond blue-eyed beer belly’.
Another vision of Ryker hovers over me, and I’m not sure if I started dreaming or if I am just delirious from sleep deprivation. This time, he is taunting me with his crooked grin. It’s like he’s judging me from afar. Unfortunately, his stupid grin might have a point. This will not work. Happy, blond porn actors will not get me off. So I close the browser window and open another one. Instead of searching for beer bellies, I google Ryker (Do I Actually Wish He Had Spent The Night?) Grayson. Then I immediately click on images.
I can hear his condescending voice in my head already. “Can’t even get yourself off without thinking about your new boss, can you?”
My fingers slide down a little further and tease my entrance.
“Looks like it’s craving me,” he says, and I can almost feel his weight on top of me.
I would love to feel his weight on me, to feel his cock press against me, to feel all of him. With me. On me. In me.
My fingers glide into my pussy without resistance. Slowly, I let them move in and out, back and forth, shaking my pelvis rhythmically along. Slowly, I also swipe his pictures over the screen and inspect every single one of them:
Ryker in a sexy suit.
My fingers glide in deeper, causing me to moan a little louder, and my blood pressure to rise even higher.
Ryker in a tight turtleneck.
I come back up and give my clit the attention it’s craving, a little faster than before and with more pressure now. I thrust automatically, imagining his cock ramming inside me.
Ryker in nothing but some speedos.
I throw the blanket off me and take a deep breath. It’s hot and I am already sweating all over. Faster than normal, I feel my orgasm approaching. It’s forceful and impatient and promising and I can’t fucking wait.
Another picture of Ryker in a speedo, but from behind.
That’s it, I think as I am about to come.
Ryker kissing some woman that clearly isn’t me.
Ryker kissing some woman that clearly isn’t me.
Fuck.
I throw my phone away and clench my legs together.
Fuck.
What am I even doing here?
My orgasm vanishes before it can fully arrive, as does any mental image of Ryker Can’t Keep His Tongue Out Of Other People’s Mouths Grayson that I might have had in my mind.
Which is fine.It’s an old picture anyway. And even if it wasn’t, I have absolutely no reason to react this way or to have any feelings about it whatsoever.
I pull the blanket back over and roll myself into a little ball.
Was that his ex? The one that co-founded the Litterati? The one Roman mentioned? Miranda or something.
A second later, my blanket and I fall out of bed together in search of my phone. When I find it, I also find that my screen is cracked.Great.A closer look at the picture reveals that it’s over seven years old. Relieved, I take a deep breath, fall back into bed, and start doing some research. I fall asleep when the sun is about to rise, and wake up what feels like a minute later when my phone won’t stop ringing. When I pick up, Paul is on the other end. He sounds upset.
“Sienna, the feds are here for you.”
“The feds?” I mumble, trying to get my brain in order.
“Federal Agents. Like the FBI. Although he could be IRS. His suit looks expensive. Which government branch pays the most money? Oh, god. Do you think he could be ATF?”
