Emily arched into her touch, moaning as Bette’s hands moved down, pressing into her waist, fingers inching ever lower until they reached the zipper of her jeans. The scent of Bette—clean linen and something subtly sweet—filled Emily’s lungs as she tilted her head and deepened the kiss. Sparks, bright and impossible, flared under her skin, curling through her veins. Emily’s fingers gripped the front of Bette’s shirt, desperate to keep her there, as she rolled her hips forward, hoping the woman got the hint…
But then—nothing.
Becausethe whole thing was just in Emily’s head; a scene concocted by her far-too-horny self. But she couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. The image of Bette was far too clear as if her subconscious had rendered the woman in perfect, maddening detail just to torture her.
Emily was practically aching for Bette’s figurative fingers to reach deep inside of her. She was dying for their clothes to vanish in thin air so that their naked bodies could touch and melt into each other.
Which was rather problematic since nothing was going to happen between them.
She snapped open her eyes.
The sun was barely up, only glimpsing shyly through the curtains in her room. She could get up right now, head to thegym in her apartment building, and run the steam off on the treadmill, putting the setting on high. Or… She could reach over to her nightstand, open the top drawer, and take out the vibrator she hadn’t used in months. It just sat quietly next to the journal she’d bought years ago but never used.
She opened the drawer.
Emily closed her eyes again and imagined Bette’s fingertips ghosting down her back, cupping her ass, and then sliding forward, up her stomach to her breasts.
And then Emily was panting, desperate for Bette’s touch—for her vibrator to at least mimic some of it. Quickly, and without hesitating now, Emily pulled her panties down and turned the vibrator on, welcoming the faint buzzing sound before she pressed it to her clit. The moan that came out of her throat was primal. How could it not be when those buds of nerves were being so deliciously stimulated?
She closed her eyes again, tilting her head back into the pillow, and imagined their clothes dropping to the floor, imagining her wet heat against Bette’s perfect stomach as she forced the woman onto her back, still straddling her.
Emily moved the vibrator’s curved tip in circles against her clit and imagined Bette’s hands roaming up her stomach, her fingertips sweeping over her hardened nipples. Another moan rippled from her throat. It was loud and rasping, and the only way forward was to increase the intensity of the moment. She imagined Bette’s thumbs digging into the crease of her hips and inched the vibrator to her slick, wet fold. Then, she imagined Bette’s fingers, those long, delectable, slender fingers dipping inside her deeply all the while Emily slipped the vibrator inside of herself, pumping slowly at first, and then faster and faster…
Fuck.
The feeling was so fucking good, and Emily was so far gone, so lost in the dream her brain conjured up, that she didn’t even hear the first knock.
But then, it happened again. Another knock. Except louder this time. Faster, like someone was trying to break through the door.
Emily’s eyes shot open, her body jerking upright so fast she nearly flew out of the bed. Her pulse was thundering and the pressure between her legs was almost excruciating now that she had to slip the vibrator out before she even finished. Just a few more seconds and a delicious orgasm would’ve rippled through her body.
“Em!” Tessa’s voice called. She gave another knock. This one was even more insistent, and Emily quickly shoved the vibrator under her bed covers, hiding the evidence. “Are you alright? Are you in pain? Do you need help?”
Emily threw herself out of bed, tripping over her sheets before she stumbled to the chair in the corner and slapped a sweatshirt over her head, not caring that it was inside-out.
Tessa tried the handle. Thankfully, it was locked. “Do you need me to call the––”
“Can’t I get a little privacy!” Emily squealed, throwing open the door. Her brain was still fuzzy, her skin hot. At least the ache between her thighs was finally simmering down to a dull hum.
Tessa was standing in the doorway dressed in a complete yoga outfit––sports bra, tights, and a mat rolled up under her arms. Her hair was up in a slightly less messy than usual bun and she was carrying a glass cup of matcha in her free hand. “Geez, Em. You’re moaning so loud, I could swear—” Her eyes suddenly widened, her jaw dropping down low. “Wait,” she said, smacking a palm to her mouth. “Were you just…masturbating?”
Emily opened her mouth to make up a convincing enough lie, but her brain drew a blank. She couldn’t think of any reasonshe’d be moaning so early in the morning. Instead, she scowled. “This is my house, I can do what I want, alright! Now what do you want?”
Tessa’s shocked expression morphed into amusement and then, of course, into a look that said she was impressed, too impressed. “I thought you were dying. But I guess that’s just how you sound when you’re getting some.” She winked. “Even if it’s just your own hand. Good for you, girl. I don’t know whether to be jealous or proud of you, Em. But I gotta say, I didn’t think you had it in you anymore.”
Tessa was right.
It had been ages since Emily had done anything like that for herself. Even before the accident, she hadn’t exactly put much priority on pleasuring herself. It was always an afterthought. Always something to fit in between the cracks of her busy life.
Still, she wasn’t going to admit that—even to her best friend.
Emily huffed, her cheeks burning. She wouldn’t be surprised if they turned a violent red. “I’m a grown woman, Tess. I’m allowed to have a little me-time every now and then okay,” she muttered, resisting the urge to fan her face.
“Of course you can!” Tessa exclaimed. “I just didn’t expect you to come out swinging first thing in the morning. I hope you finished at least.” She leaned against the doorframe and sipped at her matcha. “Do you need some new batteries for that vibrator? Or was it all fingers?”
Emily wasn’t going to tell her friend that she had been on the verge of coming before Tessa had so rudely interrupted her. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to let her know that she had, in fact, used her vibrator. Or that she hadn’t even needed any lube. She’d been incredibly wet from the get-go, from the first second she imagined Bette naked.
“Please leave,” Emily said instead, her face dead serious. “You’ve done enough.”
