Page 40 of Shared Spaces

I know he felt it too.

He wanted to claim me.

Shaking my head, I grab my cup of coffee and head into the living room where Jay is laying out on the couch.

Oh fuck. Where do I sit?

I glance to the TV, hoping to find a reason to say something, but I have no idea what he put on. It takes me a second to realize that it’s sci-fi.

Jerk.

“Trying to torture me even more?” I sarcastically say, walking over toward the end of the couch.

Jay clears his throat, so I glance in his direction.

“Why are you sitting by yourself?” He asks in a disappointed tone.

“You snore when you sleep,” I lie.

I can’t tell him the real reason, because ‘you make me nervous as fuck’ isn’t so much a valid reason anymore.

If anything, we know each other quite well now and I trust him.

Still, no.

He smiles and taps the empty space on the couch in front of him.

For a long few seconds, I stand there unable to move. I’m absolutely positive that I look like a complete idiot, but I don’t know what to feel right now. All I feel is the increase in my body temperature as he lays there staring me down.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I finally blurt out, regretting it immediately.

“Like what? I just think we could save money by using each other’s body heat. You know, saving the environment and such,” he laughs.

“Very convincing.” I smirk, finally giving in and laying myself down in front of him.

Unexpectedly, he drapes the blanket over us both, resting his hand on my hip for just a few seconds before tracing lower with his fingertips.

“I don’t think I’m done playing with you yet,”

Lower and lower, his hand sinks under my pajamas and I push myself back into him, craving for him to make me cum all over again. I wonder if it’ll always be like this.

We haven’t even had ‘that’ talk yet. I’m way ahead of myself.

He can feel just how wet I already am through my panties, which clearly satisfies him because I hear him groan when he rubs his hand over my pussy.

“Up for round two again, pretty girl? You might wanna cancel your plans for tomorrow,” he says. I can’t see his facial expression, so I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Why?” I ask, completely oblivious.

“I’m gonna make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“We have to leave this apartment sometime,” I say, staring at the TV but still not registering a fucking thing going on in the show.

“No, we actually don’t. I’ll get everything delivered to us. You can call the school and say you’re sick. Nobody wants a virus going around the campus,” he whispers into my ear.

“So, are we just going to fuck until one of us gets a memorable injury? Oh, wait—that already fucking happened.” I laugh. Now that I look back at it, it was a little funny.

“Touche.” He slides my panties to the side and just barely grazes his finger through my arousal, gentle enough to almost tickle.

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