I could feel her eyes on me as I lifted the glass of water and took a drink. Beer. Me. Steph. No one else in the apartment. Not a good combination. Or maybe a good one depending on how you looked at it.
Cuddling up against my side, her full breasts pressed against my arm.
I so needed to look at this as a good thing instead of wondering how a couch that I could stretch out on suddenly felt too small.
“So, are you turning over a new leaf or something?” she asked, gaze fixed on the TV as she ran the tips of her nails up and down my arm. I was watching a boxing rerun and I doubted she was that interested. “Are you no longer drinking?”
I laughed under my breath. “Nah. Just not feeling it tonight.”
“Oh.” Steph’s hand moved from my forearm to the center of my chest. “What are you feeling tonight?”
Loaded question, so I said nothing as a glove-covered fist slammed into a jaw. Steph perceived my silence the way she wanted, sliding her hand down the bare skin of my abs. Blood followed the tips of her fingers as they drifted below my navel, reaching the band on my shorts.
My body was into what was about to happen, thickening and swelling, straining up to meet her wandering fingers. And my body knew her fingers well, remembered exactly how skilled she was. But my head wasn’t even in the same ballpark as my cock.
Tipping my head back against the couch, I exhaled slowly. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with what was happening. Her quick fingers skimmed over my limp hand, smoothing along my hip. The muscles jumped in response. So did something else.
I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply. My heart wasn’t pounding. I was thinking about the meeting I’d have to attend Friday night. And I was thinking about Saturday night and stars when her hand curled around my cock, gripping me through the nylon shorts. A pulse shot straight up my spine as she moved her hand up.
Pleasure swirled low in my gut, and I knew if I let her continue, I would enjoy it. Already, it felt damn good. Always did, but I wouldn’t return the act. Weeks ago, I would’ve, out of pure principal. Give. Take. But now I didn’t care enough to do it and that wasn’t right.
“Hey,” I said, voice gruff as I gently grabbed her arm, pulling her hand away.
Her perfect lips formed a perfect O. “What?”
“I’m not feeling this.” I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her palm before placing it back on her thigh. My cock was already soft. “Okay?”
Surprise shuttled across her face, and a part of me was reeling in shock. Had I really just turned her down? I had.
Pink mottled her tan cheeks as she turned her gaze to the TV, and I, well, I felt like a dick. Shit. Sitting forward, I dropped my hands on my knees. “You want anything to eat?”
Mute, she shook her head no.
Double shit. “Look, Steph, it’s not you, and I’m being serious about that. I’m just feeling weird tonight. All right?”
Steph glanced at me and slowly nodded. “Okay.”
I let go of my breath in relief. Like I said before, Steph was a good girl and we had history. Things were just different now. She stayed for a little while longer and then she was ready to go. I got up to walk her out. At the door, she turned and stretched up, kissing my cheek.
I laughed. “What was that for?”
Steph shrugged as I closed the door behind us. “Are you going to the frat party?” she asked.
“Got plans,” I told her.
She pouted prettily. “Can’t you skip it Friday night?”