Birthday Girl

Little suds fizz around the opening from the guys’ showers that morning, and I close my eyes, bringing Pike’s body wash to my nose. The heady fragrance fills my head, and tingles spread across my skin. It’s cheap soap, but it’s no frills, does the job, and reminds me of jeans, lumber, and the barest bristle of a five-o’clock shadow on a man’s jaw.

It’s him.

My throat swells like I’m taking a gulp of water, and I swallow, feeling disappointed that nothing is there. I lick my lips, breathing hard.

I suspend reality somewhere in the back of my mind and absently squeeze a drop of the soap into my hand. Bring my palm up to my nose, I smell again, my breath catching, my eyes falling closed, and my clit instantly throbbing.

Should I go after her? I remember his rare, cocky smirk that excited me last night. I didn’t want him going after anyone, but God, I’m desperate to see what that looks like. What is he like with a girl?

You think I can’t handle her? I’ve been around the block.

The hand with the soap falls down my neck, glides over my collar bone, and washes down my breast and over my nipple. Handle her? “Not her,” I mouth to myself.

My fingers graze down my stomach as I lean back on the wall, and I slide my hand between my legs, biting my lip and shuddering at the touch.

I slowly start to rub myself, my fingers working little circles on my hardening clit.

“No,” I whisper, opening my eyes. “Stop, stop, stop…”

I force Cole into my head. His hands on my body. His lips on my ear. The way he buries his face in my neck, so I can never see his eyes.

Oh, baby.

Fuck, baby, fuck.

You feel good. So good.

His hands grip my ass, and I rub the nub harder. Faster. Chasing the momentum I just had. The orgasm taunts me low in my belly and wants out so hard.

“Cole,” I say, closing my eyes again. “Go harder.”

I spin around, facing the wall and pressing myself into it with my hand still buried between my legs. He’s behind me, demanding in. He wants to fuck.

I slip a finger inside and start moving on it. I lay my cheek against the wall, trying to go fast, so I can’t think. Maybe if it’s just fucking, I can come.

My finger is wet, and I slide it back out and rub my clit again. I want to come. It’s right there. But I can’t. The muscles in my arm strain, and my lungs ache for air.

Please.

But it doesn’t come. My fingers slow, and I exhale, tears stinging the backs of my eyes.

I bite my lip again, aching so badly. I’m so wet.

And then, my mind in a fog and my will gone, I crawl inside my head where no one else but me can see.

I hide and give in, because no one but me has to know. In that moment. In my dirty thoughts and torrid little fantasy, I want him. I want to be for him. Our little secret.

Hidden.

“Such a good girl,” a new voice whispers in my ear.

Pike’s voice.

His body is behind mine now, larger and taller, caging me to the wall. His hand fists the back of my hair, and he pulls my head back slowly, leaning in to flick my lip with his tongue. I whimper.

“Taking care of the house the way I like,” he taunts, and my hand becomes his hand in my head as he takes over fingering me. “Cooking my meals the way I like. Pretty little thing for me to look at. You’re doing so well, Jordan.”

I keep my eyes closed, feeling for his lips, my whole body pulsing with an electric current at the taste of his warm mouth and the water of the shower cascading over his hot skin. I can feel his cock, hard and ready behind me.