Page 17 of SKIN

“I… I don’t know.”

“Wrong answer,” he grunted between clenched teeth, running quick circles over my clit, his cock grinding against my belly at the same rhythm until he quickly dropped his hand and pulled away.

My chest was rising and falling with my rapid breaths, my every nerve ending buzzing and my blood pumping loud in my ears.

Why’d you stop? That’s what I wanted to say. But my mouth couldn’t seem to find words. My brain lust-drunk and my hormones in overdrive.

I glanced up at Cohen, who didn’t appear much better as he paced back and forth in the small space while combing a hand through his tousled hair. My eyes flicked to the bulge tenting his pants and I held back a smirk.

I wasn’t the only one hanging on by a loose thread.

“Tell me.” He pivoted on his heel and rushed forward, slamming one hand on the door. Above my head. The other dropping to my waist and tugging me forward so that I had no choice but to feel him grind himself against me. “Tell me why you wore that to class today, of all days, Emily.”

“For you,” I whispered, but apparently it was enough to have him grinning back at me. Then he slipped his palm down the door and onto the handle. He twisted and I stumbled back a step, before he pushed through and walked out without bothering to say another word. Or even spare me a second look.

25

COHEN

Icould feel her watching me. Still smell her scent on my fingertips. More than that, I could hear the little sounds she made on repeat in the back of my head. Which was why I jumped in the shower the moment I got home. Poured a hefty portion of soap on my palm and jerked off to the image of Emily pressed up against that closet door.

I could have had her. Right then and there and been done with it. With her. But like I said, it was about more than sex. I could walk out onto that street right now and find a tight pussy to grip my cock or a pair of plump lips to suck me down. Wouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Or a couple of hundreds if I happened to be too lazy to play nice.

This. Her. It was about more than that. I was sure if I looked close enough, went deep enough with the research, I’d find this reaction I was having could be explained away as a chemical impulse, a mix of pheromones emitted from the body that sent my central nervous system into overdrive.

At the end of the day, Homo sapiens were animals, which included the most basic instinct to procreate. Or at the very least, trick our bodies into thinking that’s what we were doing. When really it was just a quick fuck.

None of that mattered right now though. As I pumped a slick palm up and down my cock with the image of a certain woman in a too-short skirt playing like a film reel behind my lids. I could still smell her, long after the hot water had rinsed what was left of her away. I could only fantasize about what she tasted like. I’d resisted licking my fingers clean. Fearing that if I hadn’t, I’d be breaking into her dorm room to find out… instead of slipping in through that window to snoop.

I didn’t like how out of control she made me feel. At the same time, I craved it. Tugged at the leash holding me back. Hoping if I yanked a little harder it would finally snap.

One, two, three more strokes had my left palm pressing against the wall, my right hand and most of the drain covered in the evidence of what this woman did to me. It would look better on her lips. Her chest or fucked deep into her cunt while she cried for me to go harder. Or stop. Didn’t matter as long as it was her voice I heard screaming one way or the other.

I woke up the next morning to the feel of a warm hand slipping under the waistband of my boxers. Reaching lower and grabbing my cock around the base. Before offering it a few long strokes. I could even feel the weight of her straddling my thighs.

My eyes sprung open only to see she was another figment of my overactive imagination, my own hand down my shorts and spread across my cock while my brain told me it was hers.

It didn’t seem to matter how many times I jerked off to Emily’s image. I wasn’t satisfied. My body knew it wasn’t the real thing.

I stretched my arms out before tucking them behind my head, my glare hyperfocused on the matte white of the colorless ceiling. Didn’t remember even grabbing for it and couldn’t tell you when I’d pulled up her number in my contacts but suddenly I was shooting off a message I had no recollection of typing out.

Me:

Wear a sundress today. That one with the white and blue flowers.

Me:

And don’t forget a sweater. Daniels always has the air on full blast. Wouldn’t want anyone else getting a peek at those pretty pink nipples.

Emily:

Who is this?

Me:

Don’t pretend like you don’t know, Emily.

The little bubbles popped up on the screen, telling me she was about to reply—likely typing something snarky before thinking better of it—then disappeared again.

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