Rebel(22)

Immediately, my mind tries to imagine how this morning might’ve gone had Angie actually been interested. And naked. Definitely naked. The swell of her gorgeous tits is already burned into my mind from that first night. I only got a glimpse of her smooth pussy before she bailed on me, but that glimpse will stick with me for the rest of my life, along with the view of her rounded ass and the slope of her sexy back I left behind only minutes ago.

I close my eyes and remember the brief taste I had of her soft lips. Nice and plump, they’d look good wrapped around my cock, sliding up and down the length of it in time with my fist. The warm hollow of her mouth. The wet touch of her tongue along the underside. Oh, Jesus.

I stroke faster, my body tensing up as I approach the point of no return. Images of Angie on her knees in front of me and working me with that pouty little mouth flash over the backs of my eyelids. My calves tighten, bringing me up on my toes as I work myself harder and faster. I feel the boiling in my balls, and my cock swells in my hand. And that’s of course just the moment the door opens.

The point of no return flashes by, and my cock explodes, shooting thick streams against the glass shower door, one after another. Just on the other side, Angie’s wide eyes stare at me in shock, but there’s nothing I can do. I pulse over and over until just a dribble seeps out the end, the shower door between us plastered with translucent white trails.

Oh fuck me.

She’s frozen in place, but finally finds her voice. “Oh God, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t—I just needed a glass of water, and—I’ll close the door.” She slams it shut.

Yeah. So sorry. Awesome.

I hose down the door with the showerhead, rinse myself clean and shut the water off. I dry myself slowly, dreading going back out there. If my brain had been working enough, I should’ve invited her in to help clean up, but it’s too late for witty one liners. Like relations weren’t bad enough already, now there’s going to be an ice front worthy of the fucking Cold War.

Talk about something coming between us.

Maybe I should just go out there naked, it’s not like she hasn’t seen the whole show by now. That might shut her up. Except I just came, so I’m feeling good. Embarrassed, but good. Pulling my pajama pants on, I take a deep sigh before opening the door, prepared to face the music. I’m sure this will be awesome.

Angie’s in bed, rolled away from me, her shoulders shaking. Fuck, is she actually crying? What the hell am I supposed to say to that? “Listen. Angie. I’m sorry.” Why the fuck am I sorry? She’s the one who burst in on me.

Her shoulders heave. That seems over the top. Did I hit some sort of trigger or something?

“Gavin...” Her voice is strained.

Drawing a deep breath, I wait for it. She snorts. Hold on, is she—

That’s not fucking crying. “Angie...” I put all the menace I can into my tone and she loses it.

It explodes out of her, peals of laughter rushing out like a burst water main. I’d call it musical, but it’s so out of control and raw. It’d be fucking cute if it wasn’t at my expense. It’s so bad, she rolls over onto her back and beats the sheets with her fists and wheezes for air.

“Oh God.” She barely gets it out between breaths. “You should—you should see your face right now.”

For fuck’s sake, it wasn’t that funny. Can’t a guy have a little private time without it turning into comedy hour? “What, and you don’t take care of business, babe? Didn’t you hear the fucking shower?”

For a moment she stops, staring at me with those big brown eyes, her lips pinched tightly. The corners of her lips are pulling up, as if she’s just barely hanging on. She shakes her head no. She snorts, then loses it again.

Completely out from under the covers and sprawling across the bed, I don’t think she realizes how amazingly fuckable she looks right now in only her bra and panties. It takes a lot of a willpower to not jump up on the bed and throw myself down between her legs. That would shut her up. Instead, I roll my eyes and pretend to look for something in my suitcase so she won’t see me stiffening up. In this mood she’d probably just laugh, and my pride can only take so much fucking abuse.

While I’m rooting around, Angie seems to quiet down. Maybe she’s finally done.

She snorts.

Or not.

“Enough already. I fucking get it. Watching me jerk off is fucking hilarious. Are we fucking done yet?”

She sits up, biting down on her lower lip. Lifting her hands, balled up into fists, right in front of her she pushes out at me while spreading her fingers wide. “Splooosh!” Then she throws herself at the bed, losing it again.