I said no. I couldn't bear to sleep beside him.
And he fell asleep right after. I watched him for a while. A long while. I watched his chest as he breathed. I stared at his package for God knows how long. It's bigger than I thought. I shouldn't have been surprised.
Then, I finally left, and here I am, lying on my bed, horny as hell, thinking only of his nearly naked body on his bed and how I turned down the invitation to share that bed with him. I need to get rid of this pent-up tension asap.
Thank goodness for my vibrator.
Friday, June 20th
Being near Steven all the time and not being able to fuck him is killing me. I want him to show up at my house, rip my clothes off, and throw me down on the bed. I want him to have his way with me. I want him to shove his cock into me, as deep as he can, and fuck me until I can't see straight.
I want to feel him everywhere. I need him.
We could do it on my bed, on the floor, in the kitchen-it doesn't matter. He could bend me over the back of my sofa and take me from behind. Thinking about it now makes me so wet. He could tie me down, blindfold me, and tease me with endless kisses and touches until I was nothing but need.
I wish I could learn how to stop aching for him.
I came. It was a ragged release of pleasure that left me breathless. I thought of Allie, tied to her bed, lying naked beneath me. I wanted to do everything to her that she had imagined. I could show her what it would all feel like.
I would show her what it felt like.
Chapter 6
Allie
Work was going well for once. James was out of the office for the day and had left me a to-do list. I didn't mind. Keeping busy made my day go by quickly, and not being constantly interrupted by him was a nice reprieve.
I was able to clean my desk for the first time in weeks (nearly a month and a half, which horrified me) and even went through some of the old papers in my filing cabinets. I had cleared out three full drawers when my cell phone chimed.
I dropped down into my chair, spun it around to face my computer, and plucked my phone from the desk. Steven's name flashed across the screen. He'd messaged me. I smiled absently to myself and opened our conversation.
What I saw made my stomach leap up into my throat. My heart started fluttering, my chest felt hot, and it was everything I could do not to drop the phone.
On my screen was a picture of Steven; well, it was sort of a picture of Steven. He wasn't in the foreground. Or the background, either.
I recognized his watch, his knuckles, and even his hips from seeing him nearly naked that one drunken night this past June.
What I didn't recognize was his dick, front and center, demanding all of my attention.
"Holy shit," I breathed, glancing up to make sure none of my coworkers were around. The coast was clear. I peered closer to the picture, taking note of the size and girth of his member, and realizing quite suddenly that this probably hadn't been meant for me.
I felt my cheeks grow hot and knew I was blushing. I closed the picture, and it shrank to a smaller size as it fell back into the conversation. I quickly typed out a message to Steven.
"Uh. Steven. Wrong person!"
I hit send, locked the phone, and put it face down on my desk.
It chimed again not even ten seconds later.
Another picture lit up my screen. This time I gawked at it. It was a picture of an all too familiar yellow notebook. My diary.
I put the phone down. My stomach rolled. I picked the phone back up. My stomach turned again.
"How did you get that?" I typed before hitting send.
He answered quickly again. My heart was racing as my eyes scanned his words. "I don't know. How come you never told me you wanted me to bend you over and fuck you?"
I felt my panties become wet. I shifted in my seat. I realized I was chewing the inside of my cheek. If I played dumb, maybe he would leave it alone. Tasting blood from my gnawed-on cheek, I typed out my reply. "I don't know what you're talking about. I can't believe you stole my diary."
As I sent it, my alarm went off. I had plans to meet my sister for lunch again. I stood, thoroughly flustered, and rushed out of the office with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. A couple people at their desks looked up at me and watched me go. They probably saw how red my face was. This only made me blush harder.
I raced to the elevator, rode it down in shocked silence, and then tore out of the building. I hurried down the sidewalk to the restaurant and was relieved to see Melissa was already there. She was the early bird out of the two of us.
When she saw me coming her eyebrows drew together. I sat across from her, looked around like everyone in the place knew what picture was on in my phone, and glanced back at her.
"Allie? What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost," Melissa said, her eyes flicking back and forth as she regarded me with concern. "Drink some water."
I sipped from the glass, dabbed at my cold, wet lips with my shaking fingertips, and then clutched my hands in my lap. "Something happened," I said, leaning forward like I was letting her in on some deep dark conspiracy.
"Okay," Melissa said slowly. "What happened?"
I bit my bottom lip and leaned in closer. I dropped my voice to a whisper. "Steven just sent me a dick pic."
"A what?" Melissa wasn't in on all the new terms when it came to sexual advances through technology.
I groaned and rested my forehead in my hands. "He sent me a picture of his penis, Melissa."
"What the fuck? When?"
"Like, fifteen minutes ago!"
"Let me see," she said, holding out her hand expectantly.
I stared at her open palm. "I can't show you," I said defensively. "That would be a violation of his privacy."
"The man sent you a picture of his penis, which you clearly didn't ask for. Show me already. I've always been curious."
"No," I said, crossing my arms over my chest and scowling at her.
"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "What did you say to him?"
"I told him he sent it to the wrong person, of course. Which I was sure he had. Until he texted me back a picture of my diary."
"Your diary?" Melissa asked, her eyebrows arching. "What do you mean, your diary? Why would he have access to it?"
"He was over last night. He must have found it and took it home with him. And he read some of it. Melissa, you know some of the things I've written in there. He knows how into him I am. I'm so embarrassed." I buried my face in my hands again and hung my head. I hadn't even told her the worst part yet.
"Why would he take it in the first place?"
"I don't know," I shrugged, not wanting to utter the next words aloud. "But, Melissa, everything about Andrew is in there."
Melissa paused with her glass of water halfway to her mouth. She slowly returned it to the table, shook her head once, and stared back at me firmly. "Define ‘everything.'"
"Everything," I said not knowing how else to explain it.
Andrew was Steven's older brother-his very hot older brother. He and I had hooked up ages ago and both agreed never to say anything to Steven. Andrew knew how I felt about his younger brother, and the whole situation had been awful. I was only sixteen at the time, and Andrew had been twenty-two. And, for a while, we thought we were pregnant. Melissa was the only person who knew about the whole thing.
"Why would you write it in there?" she asked.
"Why shouldn't I?" I said, giving a huff. "I didn't ever think Steven would read it. Why on earth would I ever worry about that? If he reads that page. Oh, my God. If he reads that page, he will hate me forever. Andrew and I have been keeping this secret from him for ten years. Ten. Years. Melissa. I have to get it back."
"Obviously," Melissa said. "And you have to kick his ass for taking it in the first place. What a sleazeball."
My phone chimed. We both stared at it.
"Well," Melissa urged. "Aren't you going to check? It's probably him."
I swallowed. "Yeah. Probably is." I reached out, my fingers trembling harder than before. I read his text aloud. "Tonight. Eight o'clock. My place."
I lifted my gaze slowly to Melissa. She was leaning back in her chair again, her arms crossed, wearing an expression of cool curiosity. "Are you going to go?"
My mind raced. Steven Marx was inviting me over to his house. This wasn't for a movie night. This wasn't to sit around and play cards while laughing over stupid stories from college. This was for something else entirely.
This was what I had been waiting for.
I knocked on Steven's door at two minutes to eight. My knuckles had only hit his door three times before he wrenched it open. He wore only a pair of sweatpants. His dark hair was an unruly mess. His eyes beheld me with an intensity I had never seen there before. It lit a fire in me.