Page 39 of Shared Spaces

“You said you might need more orgasms…” I growl into her ear, watching as her body breaks out in goose bumps.

“I-I was j-joking, I—” she squeals.

I laugh to myself and step even closer to her, my breathing becoming rapid as the air in the bathroom becomes humid and hot. I was cold a second ago, but now I regret closing the bathroom door without turning the damn fan on.

I hate the heat. Always have actually. I think that’s the reason I don’t understand coffee drinkers. It can be scorching hot outside and they’ll still want fresh-from-the-pot coffee. Aren’t you already fucking warm?

Gwen must notice the change in my breathing, because the second she turns around, she smiles and tells me I can get out if I want to.

So, I leave her to it, stepping out and wrapping my towel around me, I head to my room to find some clean clothes. Fuck boxers, I’m going commando under some sweatpants.

Free the cock.

Or something like that.

Grabbing a shirt from my drawer, I slip it on and make my way out to the kitchen, not realizing just how thirsty and drained I feel until I take the first sip of water.

I’ve never put that much effort into sex before.

I wonder if she knows that she’s the first woman I’ve ever felt this connected to.

Not one relationship I’ve ever been in lasted for more than a few months. Not on my account.

Okay, maybe one girl. We never had sex though, she always wanted to watch the same shit over and over on our ‘date nights’ and I got rather bored. Apparently, being honest when you break it off with someone is ‘toxic’.

Maybe telling Marci she was blatantly not interesting enough was a little harsh, but she was—not my fault that I believe in being honest.

I’m a model citizen. A gentleman, if you will.

Without a doubt, she’s mine, but if there’s a chance that she may not feel the same, I have to make sure.

People say all kinds of shit when they’re on the brink of an orgasm.

Hopefully she meant what she said.

I don’t think I could handle seeing her with someone else.

21

Gwen

That was—

I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel right now, but I feel a wave of anxiety wash over me as I finish rinsing the rest of my body off.

Bending down, I turn the water off and step out, wrapping the towel around me and thanking Jay silently for leaving the door open when he skipped out. Without the fan on, this bathroom becomes a fucking sauna.

I walk across the hallway and grab some fresh clothes from my drawer to slip on and head out to the kitchen to make myself a coffee. Caffeine is a must after I just had my fucking guts rearranged.

Holy hell, that was insane.

Awkwardly, I stand silently after loading the coffee pot, and after a good solid minute, it’s done brewing.

Out of nowhere, a sudden rush of panic hits me hard enough to make me hover over the counter with my head in my hands.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Taking a few deep breaths, I try to focus on something other than the fact that I have no idea how to be around Jay after what we just did. It’s not just the fact that we finally had sex. It’s because it felt like so much more than that.

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