Page 35 of The Mountain
I nod, my thighs tightening around him, my hips rocking, desperate for more. Eager to feel him inside of me. “I want that too,” I moan, my head lolling back, resting against the cool tileof the shower. The water pelts our bodies, sluicing down our chests, pooling where our hips join.
“Did… did you bring a condom?” I ask, remembering our conversation from earlier.
Eddie stills, his cock pulsing like a heartbeat between my thighs, his fingers tightening on my hips. “A condom?” he asks, his eyes widening, as if he’s never heard that word before. Then all the color drains from his face as realization dawns. “Oh, shit. No. Fuck. I don’t have one.”
He drops his head to my shoulder, pulling back, his cock slipping free from between my thighs. My core pulses at the loss of friction and I give a small whimper.
“That’s okay,” I tell him. “You can go get one.”
He shakes his head, dragging one palm down his face. “No. I mean, I don’t have any at all. Not in my room or anything.”
“Oh.” I stare between us, at his cock jutting toward me, the smooth head so swollen, it’s almost purple. The ache in my belly grows, deepening to a pulse that beats in time with my racing heart, hotter than the water pelting our skin. “That’s okay.”
And I mean it. There are other things we can do without having sex. At this stage, I’m pretty sure he could get me off with his fingers.
“I know!” His face lights up, teeth flashing in a hopeful grin. “I’ll ask the other guys if they have any.”
Before I can answer, he’s pulling back the shower curtain, climbing out of the shower, and cracking open the door. “Hey Lia—Whoa, Seth. Shit. What are you doing there?”
I peer around the shower curtain in stupefied horror. Eddie is standing at the door, completely naked, a puddle forming on the linoleum at his feet as Seth peers in, his panicked gaze landing on me.
“I, uh, I was just…” Seth’s words trail off.
“All good, mate. Whatever. Look, do you have a condom?” Eddie snorts. “What am I saying? Of course you don’t. Do you want to see if one of the other guys has one?” When Seth just stands there, pale-faced and frozen, Eddie shouts over his shoulder. “Hey guys. Liam. Mate. I need a condom.”
I pull the shower curtain back, attempting to hide myself from view and press my hands to my face under the spray. A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my chest, catching in my throat, and I’m not sure if I want to laugh or cry.
“What do you mean, you don’t have a condom?” Matty’s voice booms out, loud enough that I suspect he’s either right at the door, or possibly inside the bathroom. “We just talked about this and—oh my goodness, you’re naked. Can you get a towel, please?”
“No,” Eddie retorts. “And that’s rich, coming from you—pretty sure everyone in the flat has seen your balls, mate. Get out of the bathroom if you don’t want to see mine. Are there seriously no condoms in this entire flat? How is that even possible?”
Someone shouts something from down the hallway, and Eddie lets out an irritated grumble, then shuts the door. “Well. Fuck.” He climbs back into the shower, his face flushed, lips pulled into a scowl. “Guess that idea was a miss.”
I stare at him in disbelief, mind reeling. “Did that just happen?” I squeak out. “Did you… Did you just announce to the entire flat that we were about to have sex?”
His brow dips, mild confusion clouding his expression. “They’re your boyfriends.” He wrinkles his nose, then adds: “Pretty sure they knew that was going to happen when you came in here.”
I shake my head. Part of me—okay, at least seventy percent of me—is absolutely furious with him. The rest of me is practically shaking with need, the cumulation of days of sexual frustration. At this point, I’m pretty sure I’ll have some sort of nervous breakdown if I don’t come.
I let out an aggravated sigh, then reach up, unhooking the showerhead. It’s not one of those fancy ones with the different settings, but the water pressure should still do the trick. I dig my heels into the edge of the tub, back resting against the cool tiles, knees falling wide.
“What are you doing?” Eddie stares at me in confusion, shivering slightly now that he’s no longer standing under the heat of the water.
I give him a dry look, holding his gaze as I dip my free hand between my thighs, carefully spreading myself with my fingers, then aim the showerhead at my aching core.
Eddie’s mouth falls open, his eyes widening almost comically. Part of me wants to laugh at the sight of him. Instead, I let my head fall back against the tiles, a moan of relief escaping my lips as pleasure rushes through me.
“Are you… Is that…” His eyes drop to the showerhead, then back up to my face, then down again. “Are you using that to get yourself off?”
I glare at him through wet lashes. “You could help,” I tell him, my eyes dropping pointedly to my breasts. He seemed to like playing with them before.
He stares at me blankly, like some sort of prey animal caught in the headlights as his eyes track down my body, lingering on my breasts before dropping with unabashed fascination to where the water jets are aimed at my spread core.
I grit my teeth, tilting my hips forward in an effort to get more friction, to get the right angle. “Touch my breasts,” I tell him. And then, because I’m not above asking nicely: “Please, Eddie.” This last bit comes out more whiney sounding than I intended, but it seems to do the trick.
He takes in a sharp breath, and then he’s moving forward, hands flying to my breasts as if drawn by some magnetic pull. “Holy shit,” he mutters, hands trembling, either from cold or excitement as he cups them, dragging his thumb over the nipples, lifting them to test their heft.
There’s nothing studied about the way he’s touching me and, even though it feels good, it’s still so cautious, like he isn’t quite sure what to do with his hands. I bite my lip, considering. Maybe, for all his bravado, he really doesn’t know what to do. Or maybe he’s one of those guys who’s been with lots of girls, enjoyed lots of casual hookups, but never bothered trying to make it good for them. Never learned what makes them feel good.
