I toss and turn for several minutes before my mind wanders to how Jack mighthelp me sleepif I give in and go crawling back to him and knock on his bedroom door. My mind plays out every sexy scenario of what might happen if I did that, and in no time at all I’m needy and fucking soaked.
Great.
Guess I’ll just have to take care of that myself.
I slide my hand slowly down my abdomen, the tips of my fingers brushing across my soft skin, causing chill bumps to rise in their wake. My chest rises and falls with deep breaths, the anticipation of the possibility that Jack could come back at any moment growing.
I reach the band of my silk shorts, hesitating for a moment, savoring the tension. Slipping my hand beneath the fabric and dipping my fingers into the warmth and wetness, I move them in a familiar rhythm, tracing delicate circles that make my back arch involuntarily.
I bite my lip to stifle a moan, my breath quickening and my pussy clenching.
All I can see is Jack, his gorgeous face permanently etched into every corner of my mind. The way his jaw tightens when he’s focused, the way his hands look when he runs them through his hair, all of it plays in my head like a loop I can’t stop.
I picture his body, the way his dress shirts form fit to his chest, his broad shoulders.
I can feel the phantom weight of him next to me.
Each movement brings a wave of pleasure radiating through my core until I’m completely lost in the sensation, the world outside fading into oblivion.
My orgasm crests and I’m barely falling down the other side when my phone buzzes.
An anxious feeling stabs at my chest until I find the wherewithal to reach over and pick it up to see who the text is from.
Jack: Quinn. The walls are very thin.
Apparently, my lip bite didn’t make much of a difference.
Quinn: …and?
Lying is easier than owning up to masturbating within someone’s listening distance, especially when you’re masturbating to thoughts of said person.
Jack: I can hear you from my room.
Damn.
Quinn: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was asleep and your text woke me up.
I know he won’t buy it. I should have blamed the ghosts.
Jack: Well… if you need help “going back to sleep” I’m happy to lend a hand.
I want that.
So bad.
I must not have closed the door to my room all the way because before I can respond, it creaks open, only…
It’s not Jack.
And as far as I can see, it’s not anyone.
In all the time I spent in my haunted dorm, nothing like this ever happened. Have I left one haunted home for another that’s worse?
My heart hammers in my chest when Milo jumps up onto the end of my bed causing me to suck in a breath.
“You stupid fucking cat!” I whisper-scream.
Milo slinks up the bed and settles on my stomach, kneading biscuits into my belly pooch.
