Page 57 of Love Like Lightning

At least the ones who work with them. Hopefully, all of them.

As I step further into the apartment, I hear something coming from the long hallway to the right. After another cursory glance at the apartment, something possesses me to make my way toward the hallway.

It’s probably where I’ll find the washer and dryer. I hear another muffled sound, and I wonder if he has a cat or something that he hasn’t told me about.

As I get closer, I can see the door that must lead to his bedroom is slightly ajar. The door across the hall is splayed open, steam filtering out.

And the sound that I heard a second ago comes through clear as day from the bedroom.

Moans. This man is moaning.

And then—

“Oh, fuck. Gia.”

My pulse kicks into high gear when I hear him say my name.

Pleasure rushes through me and settles between my legs. I tiptoe across the hardwood, inching closer, possessed by something that can only be pure lust.

With every step, I know that what I’m doing is wrong, but I can’t stop.

Or you won’t?

The thought doesn’t stop me from stopping right outside his door. Peering through the cracked door, I have a perfect view of Henry’s bed.

I see a few things all at once.

The white towel pooled on the floor right next to the bed. Henry on his back, naked. His head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut.

And he’s…oh, God. He’s got one hand wrapped around his cock.

Goosebumps rise up on my skin. I know I shouldn’t be looking. Obviously. It’s a blatant invasion of privacy. It’s—it’s so wrong.

But he said my name.

Do people usually masturbate and say their friends' names? I’d be lying if I didn’t think about him when I do…

But we’re just friends.

And what he’s doing right now doesn’t sound friendly.

Or look it. Jesus Christ.

He lets out another moan, his mouth dropping open, and I can only pray his eyes stay shut because my feet are glued to the spot.

I should probably feel weird about this. At least violated in some way, right?

If you’re violated, he’s definitely violated. He didn’t invite you over for a show.

I really am going to hell. And not only because I’m standing here, watching this happen.

I’m going to hell because I like it.

His movements start to get frantic, and my entire body lights up. Need coils tight low in my stomach. I expect him to grip the sheet next to him with his free hand, but instead it goes straight to his hair, and he pulls.

The move is so hot, so unexpected, that a breathy moan escapes me before I even know what’s happening.

Everything that happens next happens so quickly I can hardly breathe.

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