Page 50 of Cherry Picked
So be it. But I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
“Fuck,” I groaned, kicking away the top layer of my sleeping bag until the chilly air washed over my hot skin. I moved a slick finger down my taint to my hole and toyed with my rim. Even though I was technically a virgin, I wasn’t inexperienced. I loved playing with myself, which was partly why I was so desperate these days to experience the real thing.
I squirted out more lube, getting myself good and wet before stretching myself open. The sound of my lubed finger moving in and out of my tight hole was obvious to anyone paying attention…
And Jack was definitely paying attention.
“Bird,” he croaked softly. “Are you… is that…nngh.”
His sleeping bag rustled again, and he let out a loud exhale before the telltale sound of his own fist shuttling over his cock made its way through the tent wall between us.
“Are you touching yourself, Jack?”
“Ohgod.”
I bit my lip. “What does it feel like?” I whispered. “Is it as good as my mouth would be?”
My face ignited at my brazen question. Who the hell was I right now? Since when did I make graphic suggestions to anyone, much less the man who’d already expressed his unwillingness to go there with me?
But he’s masturbating to the sound of you. And it’s hot as hell.
“I’ve thought of your cock so many times,” I confessed on a moan. “What it would look like. What it would taste like—”
Jack’s breaths were coming in little pants now, like he was trying to be quiet but couldn’t.
“—what it wouldfeellike inside me.”
“Hawk,” Jack whispered. I wasn’t sure he intended for me to hear him—in fact, I was almost certain he hadn’t—and that only made it hotter.
“Gonna come,” I ground out, feeling the tingles down my thighs and in my groin. “I can’t hold back. Fuck,fuck.”
The sound of Jack’s movements sped up as my brain filled with static. I shoved my t-shirt up to my neck and shouted out his name as my release washed over me, hitting hot and wet across my belly and chest and sending my nerves flying.
As I lay there coming down from the euphoria and feeling the night air settle across my exposed skin, I heard Jack’s heavy breathing.
Had he…?
I opened my mouth to ask him, but then I closed it with a snap. If he wanted to acknowledge what had just happened between us, that was up to him.
After a few more moments, I heard him moving around. I took the opportunity to clean myself up with a bandana from my backpack and snuggle back into my sleeping bag.
Jack didn’t say a single word. Neither did I.
I lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling of the tent, feeling my anger rise yet again.
So this was where we drew the line, huh? A mutual masturbation session was fine, but actually seeing or touching each other was not? Wasthisthe boundary that was supposed to protect our friendship? Because I was not feeling protected.
In fact, the more I thought about how fucking close he’d been, how it would have been the work ofsecondsfor him to unzip that tent door and experience that orgasmwithme, the more hurt and rejected I felt.
Jack Wyatt needed to leave… and he needed to stay gone.
ChapterEleven
JACK
“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.” ~ Fitzwilliam Darcy
I couldn’t say for sure the moment I fell for Hawk Sunday.
