I march to my bedroom, rip open my nightstand drawer, and pull out my favorite vibrator.
Heading back into the living room, I find my favorite smut book in one of the stacks of books. I rip my jeans off and lay down on the couch. I don’t need him. I haven’t needed a man in a long time. I’m perfectly capable of fulfilling my own needs.
I open the book and flip to my favorite part; I know the chapter by heart. Turning on my vibrator, I start reading and working it up and down my clit. I slide it inside and moan when I hit just the right spot.
But when I close my eyes, it’s not the book character I see, it’s Knox. I imagine him shirtless, his arm muscles tightening as he grips my hips and slams into me. He whispers how perfect my pussy is, and heat consumes me. He picks up his pace as I beg for more. I reach up and pull his face down to—
Knock, knock.
I yelp—loudly—dropping my book and jerking the vibrator out. It slips and falls on the floor. I flip over onto my side to reach down and grab it, but I didn’t realize how close I was to the edge of the couch. I fall onto the floor with a thud and a very unladylike grunt.
Knock, knock.
“Are you okay?” I hear Knox ask from outside.
I curse and sit up to grab the vibrator. Only it’s not there, I can hear it, but I can’t see it.
Oh shit, oh shit.
It’s under the damn couch! I’m scrambling onto my stomach, trying to reach under and grab it.
Bvvvvt. Bvvvvt. Bvvvvt.
It’s like this is the world’s loudest vibrator.
Surely, he can’t hear it through the door, right?
“Kace? What’s that noise? Are you okay?”
Okay, apparently hecanhear something through the door. “Uh, yeah. One sec!”
What is he doing back here, anyway? Did he change his mind? Because I can leave this vibrator under the couch if he wants to—I got it!
I pull it out and shut it off. Throwing my jeans back on as I jump across the living room toward the door, cursing my open floor plan house.
“Yeah. Hey, hi,” I say breathlessly as I barely crack the door open, holding the vibrator behind my back. I know my face is beet red, I can feel it.
“Um, you okay?” he asks, trying to peek behind me into the house.
All I can do is nod.
“Okay, well, I forgot to ask if you wanted to trim more broodmares this week. I should have some extra time.”
Well, that totally could’ve been a text.“Yep, that would be great. Anything else?” I brush some hair out of my face with the non-vibrator hand.
This is what my life has come to. Perfect.
He glances down at the arm tucked around my back and smirks at me.
The mansmirks. I have a sinking feeling in my gut that he knew exactly what I was just doing.
“Nope, that’s it. Have a good night,” he says, but he doesn’t turn to leave. He just stands there, smirking at me.
How has this gone from one of the best days—shirtless, sweaty Knox—to the worst day—vibrator under the couch—in a matter of a few hours? I’ll never be able to show my face around him again.
“Okay, night.” And with that, I shut the door and leave him standing on my porch.
I head back to the couch, only to find my mood has drastically changed.
