She understands now that he is not putting on a show just for her. His sexuality is as much part of his genetic makeup as his cockiness and extreme self-confidence.
When he comes back, naked, she has already changed into her nightgown. Before this trip, she and Cassie had gone shopping.
“You’re going to make him sleep on the floor without a pillow,” Cassie said gleefully.
“I can’t do that. That’s mean.”
“That’s your trouble, Sam. You don’t know how to play bully. Just think of all the things he did to you in middle grade, and comeuppance will come naturally.”
Sam doubts it. She fingers a pretty black silk nightgown – bordered with lace.
“Oh, that’s a nice one. The idea is to tempt him, make him hard, and then shove him away to let him painfully sleep on the floor.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get him hard for me. We don’t even like each other. Besides, that’s not the point of the whole weekend.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but these are fringe benefits. Play the coy seductive, torment him to distraction, then pull away at the last minute.”
Sam doesn’t think she can ever do that. She’d probably snag the lace nightgown on some hook and tear it to shreds before she can get sexy.
And now she’s wearing that very nightgown. Not that he can see it, because she has consciously covered herself up to the neck with the blanket. Only the table lamps are on, and the entire room has taken on a cozy, romantic hue which is only too apparent.
“Move over,” he says, his knee treading the mattress.
“No. I’d really like you to sleep on the floor.”
“After all the tonsil tennis we shared?” He scoots into the bed and lifts up the blanket, which she clutches all the more tightly to her chest. “Relax, I’m not going to touch you with a ten foot pole, although mine is more like ten inches, give or take a few.”
She wonders how he can be so cavalier about his nudity. She makes room for him by displacing herself to the edge of the bed. If she rolled to her left, she would fall off and land on the floor with a thud.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he says, twisting his body so that his back is to her. Within seconds, she hears his breathing grow deeper.
Damn him, but he is soundly asleep.
How is she expected to sleep now, cramped up like this?
She switches off her lamp. She is very aware of his warmth permeating the air space under their shared blanket. She can imagine Cassie asking her in the morning, “So, did you make him sleep on the floor?”
‘Uh . . . no.”
“What? You mean you slept with him?”
“Not exactly. He muscled his way onto the bed and promptly fell asleep.”
“With you beside him? And he wasn’t even tempted to . . . you know . . . grope you?”
Come to think of it, her situation is kind of miserable. Here she is, with a handsome and incredibly sexy man, who is stark naked and lying in bed with her. And he falls asleep without so much as making a pass at her.
She listens to his breathing. Her mind tumbles with all sorts of possibilities. And always she comes back to his kisses, the feel of his hard body against hers, the smell of his aftershave mingled with his intoxicating, extremely male scent.
Her entire body stiffens. Moistness trickles within her core, and she feels a rush of inexplicable need, as if her insides have turned into gooey mush.
Oh, oh, oh!
Her hand moves to her swollen sex, all plump and ripened by the hormones coursing in her bloodstream. She’s about to do something embarrassing, but she’s helpless to prevent it.
She closes her eyes as she slips her fingers underneath her panties. Her clit tingles at her own touch. She delves her fingers through her cracks, squeezing her clit in between. A soft moan escapes her lips. Her pu**y is exquisitely wet, which lubricates her scissoring movements. She wriggles and digs her fingers in deeper, prodding the soft petal folds of her clit and inner labia.
Her breathing rhythm escalates even as her heart slams against her ribcage. In her mind’s eye, she can see only Brian’s face, hovering above her as he f**ks her repeatedly.
The pleasure that peals in her pu**y lifts her body and arches her back. She twists her neck against the damp pillow as her orgasm crests through her. Her muscles contort explosively. She coils and recoils, her body a whiplash of sensory overload. The sheets beneath her hips are a veritable mess of intermingled creams and sweat.
Oh Brian, Brian!
She would be mortified if he ever found out she masturbated while thinking of him when he was beside her. She would never live it down, especially with his caustic, razor tongue. She can well imagine him using his tongue for something else more inappropriate – much is the agony of it.
Her shudders dissipate slowly, like a wave breaking apart into froth.
Her body aches with the afterglow.
He is still immobile next to her, deep in slumber. She watches his steady breathing, not daring to touch him in any way lest he awake. She knows that if she just ventures a hand forth, she would touch his smooth back. Or his well-shaped bu**ocks.
Go to sleep, Sammie, she berates herself.
She finally does. But her dreams are filled with images of Brian f**king her.
*
Brian wakes up sometime in the morning. The blackouts are drawn close to keep the light out, but from the intensity of sunshine shining through the slit in the curtains, he can tell that it’s late morning. Possibly eleven o’ clock.
His body aches mildly from too much dancing. He smiles as he remembers last night. He can’t recall having such a fabulous time in years. The party had been in full swing, and he vividly remembers Sam’s hair tossing here and there as she whips her head back and forth in Zumba dance moves. Sam laughing delightedly. Caleb and Cassie having a wild time.
Sam’s warm body is splayed next to his and her hand is unconsciously flung across his back. He turns slowly, displacing it. She does not wake up.
Shit, but he’s got an incredible boner.
He watches her in the semi-dark for a while. Her shuttered eyes. Her sweet face. The rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. The blanket is down to her shoulders, and he glimpses the pretty negligee she is wearing, all black lace and frilly patterns.
Now what the f**k is he going to do about his boner?
He can well visualize his hand reaching out to her warm body to wake her. Then he would roll himself to straddle her, and he would kiss her madly and get her worked up into an aroused state. And he would close his mouth around her ni**les, and press his erection against her wet, wet pu**y.