Meg kept her face in the water for a long time. Naz understood, but he also didn’t like it. The way the water ran down her cheeks made it look like she was crying. Maybe she was crying and trying to hide it.
Her hands moved to the hem of her shirt, which had plastered against her skin. “I can’t feel clean wearing this.”
Naz helped her pull it over her head but gave her room to handle her shorts and underwear herself.
She made a choked sound as she looked down at her soaked cloth shoes, toeing them off to finish undressing.
“Can you get me something else to wear while I finish up?” Meg asked.
Naz bent to grab her cloth shoes before he left, setting them in the sun on the bottom step outside the trailer to dry. Naz’s own clothes had gotten damp, with the sleeves of his shirt getting the worst of it, so he dragged it off and hung it over the railing, deciding the rest of him would dry quickly enough. He should have grabbed her clothes to do the same, not just her shoes.
Back inside, Rocks continued to sleep in their bedroom. Naz grabbed the shirt she liked to wear when they slept together, his shirt that had become hers.
Grabbing it was better than leaving her naked and vulnerable while he went to the other trailer to get her clothes. Leaving her didn’t feel right.
He slipped into the bathroom with the shirt.
Meg leaned into the corner of the shower, her legs spread and her hand between them. Her eyes were shut and her mouth was parted, a small gasp slipping out from the way her finger moved in slow circles between her legs.
The door to the bathroom clicked shut, startling her eyes open. They went wide as she stared at him, her hand pausing.
Naz took in her tightened nipples. Well, one of them. The palm of her hand covered the other, circling in the same rhythm as her finger down below.
The hairs along Naz’s arms rose as he continued to stare at her. Meg was beautiful.
Her eyes dropped from his. The sound of the running water mingled with the rushing in Naz’s ears.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean for you to see.” Her finger stroked between her legs, and her breath hitched before her jaw clenched.
“He told me I didn’t get to come. Fuck him. He doesn’t get to decide that.” Her eyes closed, and she resumed circling her nipple and down between her legs.
Naz should have left her alone. Watching her touch herself didn’t bring back the voices in his head, though. Neither did her small, breathy gasps. Instead, tingles flowed along his skin.
His gaze focused on her breasts. Her hand shifted, her fingers closing in a tight pinch. She plucked at her nipple, her hips pushing forward into her own hand.
“Oh!” she gasped, the movements of her other hand changing, too. Her finger wasn’t circling but stroking, the strokes quickening as her breathing hitched and her legs shook.
Naz watched pleasure slacken her face, her mouth parting and a cry falling out as she made herself come.
The cry shot the tingling down to his dick, and it hardened.
That it had sent panic through his body, enough to chase the semi-erection away. He braced against the door in shock.
Meg hummed, straightening away from the wall and moving into the spray. Her hands reached for the soap, beginning to lather it.
“Fuck, I needed that,” she said.
Naz’s thoughts continued swirling in panic. His body felt frozen.
Meg wasn’t jumping on him or anything. It didn’t seem like she’d noticed, and his pants didn’t feel tight anymore, with no dick tingles at all. As if it had never happened.
The water turned off, and Meg reached for the towel, drying herself off but not really covering herself. Meg had always been comfortable with her own nudity.
Her still-hardened nipples drew his eyes, and his neck tightened. He forced himself to look away, rolling the shirt he’d brought her and slipping it over her head.
“Oh,” her surprise reminded him of the way she’d gasped when she’d come moments before.
He was careful not to touch her, and relief filled him when her nipples were covered, though he could still make out the shape of them through the material.