She blushed.
I shook my head and walked toward the room Dahlia and Andrew were in. The blood began to rush through me as I tried to rationalize what I was about to do. Why was I feeling guilty? This was so fucked up. Beth and I weren’t anything. I wasn't good enough for her, and she'd find that out eventually. Besides that, I didn't want to give this up. The last thing I wanted was to be in a relationship where I felt guilty for doing what felt right for me.
Dahlia looked up and smiled at me. I was about to sit down on one of the provided couches outside the room when she motioned for me to come in. I hesitated, but only for a second. That was all it took me to realize I was doing this.
I sat down in the corner of the room, my leg folded over my knee, just watching. Really, how different was this from watching a video? It was like a play of porn—or a musical, if they started to dance. I chuckled at the thought.
"Something funny?" Dahlia asked. She sauntered over to me, slowly unbuttoning her tight shirt. She slipped it over her shoulders, the fabric slowly sliding down her dark skin. "You sure you don't want to participate?" she teased, already knowing the answer. I never joined in. I was content with just watching.
"I'm fine here, thank you."
"Suit yourself."
She walked back over to the bed that sat in the middle of the room. Dressed in the finest Egyptian cotton sheets, the huge bed could accommodate an orgy of people. And sometimes it did.
Andrew was already naked on the bed, the brunette pressed up against him, naked, her knees apart. She moaned softly as his hands ran over her body, resting on her bare pussy. Lifting her arms, she wrapped them around his neck. She faced my direction, giving me the perfect view of her perky breasts and slender body.
I swallowed as Andrew slid a finger inside her, moving it in and out slowly. Dahlia came around the far side of the bed and began pumping his cock. I shifted in my seat, my pants restricting as arousal began to stir inside me.
Unzipping my fly, I reached inside my boxers and freed my cock. Now fully erect, I fisted the base of my shaft, my hand moving back and forth. Closing my eyes, I imagined Beth kneeling before me, taking my cock in her mouth, her sweet, soft lips working my length while her tongue ran along my shaft.
I gasped, my fist moving faster as I brought my attention back to the show before me. Dahlia lay on her back, her legs spread, while the brunette with the perky little breasts lapped at her pussy. Even from where I was sitting I could see how wet she was.
Andrew began to rub the brunette from behind, his other hand stroking his cock. He rolled on a condom and eased it inside of her ass. She didn’t flinch, her mouth not leaving Dahlia for even a second.
Fuck, yeah. There was something so erotic about watching people fuck. I pumped my throbbing cock, precum covering my fingers as I worked from base to tip.
“Fuck,” I hissed as I released, my load shooting onto the floor in front of me. Holy shit, that felt good. Standing up, I fixed my pants and walked out, thinking to myself that we didn’t pay our cleaning staff nearly enough.
***
I had only one thing on my mind when I entered the house after returning from the club, and that was to call Beth. I'd been thinking about her all night. Imagining her . . . Imagining us. I glanced at my phone. After four in the morning was probably pushing it, but then again, knowing her, she'd be up. Or out. Possibly getting drunk. Possibly picking up some random guy to take home and fuck.
A surge of anger rushed through me. A text. I would send her a text.
Are you awake?
I waited impatiently for her to reply. Five minutes . . . ten minutes . . . After half an hour, I gave up. If she didn't want to talk to me, then I wasn’t going to wait up half the night like a pussy. I didn't care how irrational I sounded, or that it was the middle of the night and there was a very good chance she was asleep; I wanted to talk to her, and she wasn't answering. That pissed me off. And I was angry that it got to me so much.
Storming into the kitchen, I opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. I flicked off the lid and walked into the living room, slumping down on the sofa. The TV was on, but there was nothing worth watching. Fuck this. I stood up and went to bed, tipping the untouched beer down the drain in the kitchen on the way.
Chapter Fourte
en
Beth
I woke early the next morning, the left side of my bed empty. The soft creases in the sheets were my only proof that it hadn’t been a dream. I sighed and closed my eyes, imagining his hands moving all over my body.
I really liked him. A lot. But the problem was, every time we had been intimate, it had been after I’d been drinking quite heavily. The thought of being touched by him—or anyone—while I was sober terrified me. I freaking jumped when his fingers unintentionally brushed past my arm. How could this possibly work without me, at the very least, explaining to him what had happened?
This was not good. I thought having him around might give me something else to focus on, but I was becoming more and more reliant on his company. I could feel my independence slipping away.
I rolled over and reached for my phone. Three text messages and a missed call. All from Roman. I clicked on the first message.
Are you awake?
I checked the time. He'd sent that just after four in the morning. I wondered if he'd left by then. I clicked on the second message.