Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“There’s room,” I said. “I guess I was thinking we’d share.”
She turned to look at the rumpled sheets on the queen-sized bed, and her expression was full of trepidation. Like it might burst into flames at any second.
“Hey, it’s okay.” I tried to sound reassuring. “It’s just sleep. I’ll stay in my lane, and because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll even let you pick which side gets to be yours.” Still, she looked unconvinced. I held in the sigh I wanted to make. “There’s not a lot of room, but if you don’t feel comfortable sharing, I can take the floor.”
“No.” She drew in a deep breath and pushed it out. “It’s fine. I’m comfortable with you.” The second her statement was out, she looked like she wanted it back. “I mean, I’m comfortable with sharing. We’ve shared plenty of other things, right?”
I lifted a corner of my mouth. “Yeah, we have.”
Her focus shifted back to the bed. It was obvious which side I preferred, and I was relieved when she claimed hers by tossing her pillow onto the other one, which was wedged in the corner.
The comforter wasn’t needed, so she dropped it beside my dresser, and it was strange watching her climb into my bed. I’d had plenty of girls sleep over when I lived at the Sig house, but it’d always been after we’d had sex. They’d stayed out of exhaustion or obligation, or maybe holding out hope that I’d wake up in the morning and proclaim they were now my girlfriend.
I’d never invited a girl into my bed to just sleep.
As Mads crawled toward her pillow, her hand brushed something and gave her pause. It was my phone that I’d discarded to answer the door, and I lurched forward to grab it, but it was too late. When she bumped the phone, the lock screen lit up, revealing the title of the video that was paused.
Annika Adore Orgasm Countdown.
Her little gasp was quiet yet deafening. “Were you watching one of my videos?”
I gathered up my phone and headphones and set them on the nightstand as I considered not answering her. But there was no point in lying. She’d seen that I had been.
“Yeah.”
“Why?” She went breathless, either excited or horrified to hear my answer.
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the wall. “I was curious.”
That wasn’t a lie—I had watched it the first time because I’d wanted to know how her solo video had turned out. She didn’t need to know I’d seen it more than once, or my reasons.
She folded her legs beside her as she sat on the mattress as far across from me as possible. Her chest rose and fell quickly, her lips pressed into a line, and it looked like she was considering something.
“I watched yours, too.” Her statement was quiet and rushed.
I straightened abruptly from the wall. “Yeah?”
Like her, I’d done my first solo video two weeks ago. It’d been . . . fine. Sort of awkward. I jerked off regularly, but this? It was very different. I’d never made such a production out of it before. I’d had to be vocal and descriptive and rub my hands over my chest like that did something for me when it totally didn’t.
It was a performance, and when it was over, I wondered aloud who’d want to watch it.
“Mostly dudes,” Scott had replied.
That was surprising, but it didn’t bother me. I was straight, but if some guy wanted to watch me stroke my dick and it made him hard, well . . . that was kind of flattering, I guessed.
Interest pumped through me, knowing Mads had watched my solo.
“Why?” I asked.
“I was curious.”
She took the easy way out by feeding my answer back to me, and it set thoughts firing off in my mind. Had it turned her on? Had she played with herself while watching? Had she been like me and viewed the video multiple times?
But I couldn’t ask her any of that without risking having to answer those questions myself, and that was way too dangerous. It’d probably make her flee my room, and I didn’t want that.
I kind of liked seeing her sitting there, looking like she was waiting for me to join her in my bed.
“Do you have to be up early?” I asked. “Should I set an alarm?”
She shook her head and pulled her phone out from where she’d tucked it into the waistband of her shorts. “I’ve set mine for seven-thirty. What about you? Do you have a final in the morning?”
“I’ve got one for my advance media strategies class at eleven.”
I plugged my phone in to charge, then navigated to the playlist I always listened to when I went to sleep, starting the first song and adjusting the volume so it wasn’t too loud. Then I grabbed a fistful of sheet and slid into bed, lying on my side to look at her.