I should take a walk or go for a swim or work on the presentation that’s due next week—anything to get my mind off my very hot, very off-limits roommate. But when I reach for my water bottle, I see that he left his earbud case on the counter. And his earbuds are still in it.
The right thing to do is to take it up to his bedroom. That’s what a friend would do, and we just decide to be semi-friendly less than twenty minutes ago, so I guess that’s what we are now? Friends-ish?
Before I can over think it, I’m running up the stairs todo my good deed for the day. Ollie’s is the second door on the right, and I raise my hand to knock, but the door mustn’t have shut completely because the soft rap of my knuckles pushes it open just a few inches. I’m about to step inside and get his attention when I stop cold at the scene unfolding in front of me. Ollie’s on his bed. His chest is bare, and his shorts are so low on his hips that I have a perfect view of his hand as it rests at the base of his cock.
Holy. Shit.
I shouldn’t be standing here. I shouldn’t be watching this. He’s probably filming a video for MyFans and I can’t very well interrupt him when he’s hard at work, can I?
Oh, god.Hard at work. Even in times of lust, the bad jokes just pop into my brain.
Ollie doesn’t know that I’m aware of his online activities, and I don’t think that storming into his room now is the best way to break the news to him. I need to leave. It’s the right thing to do—the only thing to do. I’ve never watched any of his content because it felt like an invasion of privacy, but when I read my name on his lips, I can’t move from my position in the doorway. I’m momentarily glued to the ground, completely mesmerized by the scene in front of me. And who am I kidding? I’m so damn tempted to join right in. The way I feel right now, I wouldn’t even ask him to stop the cameras. There’s something undeniably sexy about letting other people watch.
But that reminds me that Ollie doesn’t know I’m watching him, and consent is non-negotiable. When his lips part in a gasp as he moves his fist up and down his shaft, I back out of the doorway as quietly as possible.
When I make it back to my room, I’m still clutching his earbuds in my hand, but I’ll return those later. They’re the least of my worries right now. I should feel guilty for spyingon my roommate during his solo sexy time, but all I feel is an unquenchable sense of lust.
It’s not just the sight of a half-naked Ollie that has me so worked up. Sure, his body is thick and muscular and could either be featured in a museum or a dirty magazine. And yes, the sight of him without a shirt is enough to send delicious shivers through my body.
But the sight of him taking himself in hand? It was so hot, so raw, so intimate, even though hundreds of people are probably watching the rest of the show while I stand in the middle of my doorway in a puddle of lust.
One night last summer, Ian, my brother’s boyfriend, let Ollie’s secret slip. He was drunk and I don’t think he realized that I heard him, but after a quick search confirmed the rumor, I kept that knowledge to myself. I firmly believe that what Ollie does with his body is his business and no one else’s.
But I also firmly believe that after catching him in the act of making himself feel good, I’ll never be the same.
I don’t even pretend that I’m going to study or go for a walk. There’s no sense in lying to myself. My brain is on one track right now and I know that nothing else will be accomplished until I take care of the aching need between my thighs.
After locking my door, I tug off my sports bra and lie down on my stomach in the center of my bed. I only watched Ollie for a minute, but I’ve got a good imagination, so I let it run wild. I picture him lying next to me, his warm, capable hands caressing lazy circles on my back and over the curve of my ass.
In my fantasy, he’s naked, his beautiful body on display, but he won’t let me touch him until he’s tasted me.
What a dirty fucking gentleman.
He rolls me onto my back and the look in his hungryeyes sends a jolt of electricity to my core. Guys have been ogling my breasts since middle school, but the need I see reflected in Ollie’s eyes is on a whole other level. He doesn’t see me as a toy or a puzzle to be figured out. In my fantasy, Ollie sees me the way I see myself—strong, capable, and sexy.
There’s nothing hotter. I let my eyes flutter closed as Daydream Ollie covers my right breast with one large hand and the tip of the other with his talented mouth. But he’s a multitasker, this man of my filthy fantasies, so he slips his hand between my legs and mutters a curse as he finds me wet and ready for him. Pumping two fingers in and out of me in a perfect rhythm, Ollie has me on the verge of climax in a matter of minutes. In my lust-ridden mind, he’s teasing my nipples with his lips and tongue while simultaneously finger fucking me into oblivion. Just when I’m on the edge and I don’t think I can take any more, his lips pop off my breast and he shimmies so his broad shoulders are between my thighs and his full lips are dropping featherlight kisses on my mound. When he parts my seam with his tongue, I can’t help but dig my nails into his shoulders. That just seems to turn him on more as he worships my pussy with his lips and tongue.
In real-life, I’m riding my own hand, the friction of my duvet cover against my sensitive nipples heightening the experience. My legs shake with the intensity of it all as my orgasm crashes over me. Wave after wave assaults my senses until I’m breathless and completely spent.
As I lie alone in my bed, I know I should feel guilty because Ollie has no clue what I’ve just been doing or who was the star of the show.
I don’t, though. Right now, I feel satisfied.
I just wish it would last.
“Hey, big brother,” I say, signing as I look at my phone screen. I’m sitting at one of the outside tables at Drip, soaking up the September sunshine while I drink an iced white mocha. I have one class left today, but it’s not for another hour, so I decided some caffeine and vitamin D were in order.
“How’s it going?”Booker asks, and the first thing I notice about him is his smile. He had some serious reservations about moving across the country and being so far away from Ian, but it looks like the southwest is treating him well.
“Hey, Fallon!” The voice comes through the line before I see Ian’s strawberry blond head pop into the frame.
Okay, that’s why my brother is all smiles this morning.
“He surprised me with a visit,” Booker explains with a sappy look on his face. “When I leave for practice in a couple hours, I’ll drop Ian at the airport.”
These two are so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. I liked Ian from the moment I met him, but I distinctly remember telling him that if he ever hurt my brother, they’d never find his body. Thankfully, my brother and his boyfriend are blissfully in love, and I haven’t had to find anyone who owns a pig farm. If you know, you know.
“If you only have a few hours left together, why are you calling me?”
