I want to hear him.
“Talk to me,” he says.
“What do you want me to say?”
He hesitates, his baseball cap sitting backward on his head as I watch his lips softly start to move.
“Did you like watching me on the couch the other night?” he asks in a low voice.
I search his eyes, fear holding me back but desire keeping me planted.
“How far would we have gone if he hadn’t come in?” he presses.
I breathe in and out, holding his eyes, and all of a sudden we’re back on the couch. The space is small, the air is thick, something is happening, and we don’t know what or if we should, but we know we don’t want to stop yet.
He reaches down, but I don’t look to see what he’s doing. Instead, I hear his belt buckle jingle, and his zipper open. His eyes search mine, probably wondering if I’m going to flee. Or waiting for me to flee.
But I don’t. Not as he reaches inside his jeans and not as I watch him stroke himself out of the corner of my eye.
“How far?” he urges.
How far was I going to let him and Kaleb go that night? Would I have let them take turns? Or would we have gone to a bed and would I have let them have me at the same time? We’ll never know, but I do know one thing.
“I wasn’t going to stop,” I tell him. I turn on my side, tucking my hands under my cheek as I look over at him. “I just wanted to let go and have the moment. Even if you were using me to feel good, because I wanted to feel good, too.”
He nods slowly. “Sucks, doesn’t it?” A beautiful smile plays across his lips. “Craving that fucking escape so badly, because someone else left you empty?”
I move in, placing my hand on his chest as my nose brushes his cheek. “Nothing about you is empty,” I whisper. “I can feel your heart.”
It beats against my hand, and I close my eyes, feeling his warm body move and thinking about what he would feel like. How he would’ve felt that night we were interrupted.
It wasn’t just an escape, Noah. It wasn’t. It was a connection.
A connection I feel with him probably stronger than anyo
ne here. No one loved him enough. Jake’s respect has been too hard to earn, and Kaleb doesn’t talk to him. Like me, Noah doesn’t have a place he belongs. He gets everything I’m feeling, he sees what I see, and he knows what I walk around with, because even though he’s not alone, he’s lonely. He didn’t have anyone to talk to here, and just like my parents’ house wasn’t a home, neither is the peak for him. He doesn’t feel good here.
Until maybe now.
He quickens his pace, and I open my eyes, looking down at his hand, moving inside his jeans. My clit throbs despite myself, and the warmth between my legs aches.
“Noah…” I breathe out, begging him. “Go slower. I like watching you. I like it slow.”
He turns his face toward me, our lips brushing each other. “Tiernan…”
I lick my lips. “Take your pants down more.”
He bends his knees up and pushes his jeans and boxers down.
He pulls out his cock, thick and hard, and I watch him rub his thumb over the wet tip and continue stroking it. I know he’s watching me as I watch him, but I don’t care.
Someone—maybe me—straddles him, and I see it in my head. He makes love to her from the bottom, pumping his hips up into her.
Slowly, I unbutton his shirt with one hand. I spread the shirt open, his naked skin from his neck down to his groin waiting for me. My fingers hum with desire. I want to touch him.
But I don’t.
“Slower,” I tell him. I don’t want him to come yet.