Sweet Obsession

God, I need to come.

I want to talk to Brooke. I want to know her, and I’d really love to do that without my dick being hard and without the overwhelming desire to bury myself balls deep mudding up my thoughts.

When was the last time I couldn’t get through a single conversation with a woman without imagining what she would look like wet and begging beneath me?

I’m not that guy. I sure as hell don’t want to be that guy for Brooke. And I won’t be . . .

I just need to get this ache out of my body.

My thighs tense beneath me. I take a moment to rub my thumb over the head of my dick, mingling the water and precum. I let myself moan. The quick slapping of skin echoes off the walls of my small bathroom.

I remember what she felt like as I held the slender curve of her hips. She was smooth and warm. Sweat pooled in the dip between her collarbones.

“Holy fuck,” I gasp, my hand working furiously now.

If only she knew what I was doing. What I was thinking. How close I was to . . .

“Mm. Need a hand with that?”

My eyes flash open at the sound of a voice at my back. Equal parts wicked and sweet. Stilling my hand, I squeeze the base of my dick and look over my shoulder.

Brooke peers inside the small opening in the shower curtain, smiling, her gaze lingering on my arse.

“Shit.” I wrench the handle and cut off the water. Fuck . . . fuck! I probably look like such a fucking wanker. Covering myself as best as I can, I turn to look at her. “Brooke, I . . .”

She slides the shower curtain back.

Good fucking Christ.

My mouth falls open. My breathing quickens. Brooke, now completely naked, stands before me, proudly showing off her insanely sexy body as she leans against the wall. Calculating smirk twisting across those sexy as fuck lips.

I can’t pull my eyes away. I knew she would be a fucking sin to look at, but I had no idea . . .

Her full tits sit high on her chest. A faint blush spreading over them. Her nipples, a dusty pink, hardened and ready for my tongue. The soft flare of her hips. Long, shapely legs. Her bare . . .

My cock jumps against my hand.

She lifts her leg to step inside the small shower with me.

“Whoawhoawhoa.” I shove the curtain open further and reach for two towels. “Here. Fuck, please put this on. I’m . . .” I struggle to speak, to secure my own towel around my waist while holding one out for her. The cotton brushes against my cock and I moan.

I was so fucking close. Why didn’t I lock the door?

She laughs softly, lowering her foot. “Why the hell would I do that? And why are you covering up? Turn the water back on and fuck me.”

I step out of the shower. “I think maybe we should talk a little first.”

“Talk? Yeah, okay. Were you not just jerking off thinking about me?”

“No, I was. I was, I just . . .”

“Then what is there to talk about?”

I give up on wrapping the towel around my waist and hold it against my cock, offering her the other one. “Please, Brooke.”

I need her to cover up. I can’t hold a conversation with this woman with her tits out.

Speaking of tits . . .

She crosses her arms underneath them. They bounce a little and I bite back my moan.

“Do you want me or not?”

“I want you,” I answer quickly. God, isn’t it obvious? “Trust me, Brooke, I want you, but maybe we could take this a bit slower, yeah?”

“Slower? Why? I want to fuck you. You clearly want to fuck me, based on your massive erection, which bravo, by the way. He’s beautiful.” She takes the towel from me and drops it on the floor, inching closer. “You came up here to jerk off to thoughts of me. I know you didn’t finish. How close were you?”

“Close.” I step back. My hip hits the sharp edge of the sink.

The wolf circles her prey, ready to attack.

“It would be a shame to stop now, don’t you think? I hear blue balls are a bitch.”

I grab her wrist when she reaches for me. “Brooke.” My voice is much softer now. I sound weak. I feel weak. I’m so close to saying fuck it and bending her over the sink.

She stares up at me. Her thick lashes flutter closed before she steps back out of my grip. Anger flares to life in her eyes. “What is your problem? What the fuck is this?”

Damn it. She is pissed, clearly, but the way her gaze avoids mine and scatters about the room, she’s feeling something else too.

Rejection? Does she not see how difficult this is for me?

“If I were to fuck you right now, then what?” I ask, although, I fear I already know the answer to this. She’s moving way too fast to want anything real with me. “What would happen after, Brooke?”

“After?” Her eyes slowly find mine.

“Yeah, after. What would I be to you?”

She breathes a laugh, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “If you think it’ll be weird for me, you’re wrong. I can handle casual sex. I’ll even wave to you if I see you out. It won’t be awkward.” Her gaze lowers to my towel. “You’re still hard, by the way.”

“I’m aware.”

It’s bloody painful.

She leans back against the wall. Her calculating smirk returns. “Tell me you don’t want to fuck me right now.”

“I can’t do that,” I reply, briefly glancing down at my raging hard-on that’s tenting the towel. I lift my head. “Look, I want to fuck you, but I want to know you, Brooke. I can’t do a meaningless fuck. That’s not me. And I don’t want that with you. Why don’t we get dressed and go get something to eat. Talk a little. I want to know about you.”