Page 1 of Beauty Sleep

Prologue

BRIAR, ONE NIGHT EARLIER

I’m awake,of course.

The translucent curtains in my bedroom are fluttering softly in the warm summer breeze. Every breath of air that slips through the wide-open bay window torments my naked body. I’m flat on my back, and my rock-hard dick is twitching against my stomach.

“No,” I moan half-heartedly, but I already know I don’t mean it. “Not again.”

Discovering my deepest desires has wrecked my life.

No amount of shoving my hands under the pillow and thinking about calculus will help. Nothing does except… well, the obvious answer. And these days, eventhatdoesn’t always work. I’ve spent hours lost in my fantasies, never quite able to spill over the edge, soaking my sheets in sweat and frustrated tears.

From the laughter and noise outside my window, it’s about three in the morning. Vibes is just around the corner. I’ve never been, but I’ve heard all about the dimly-lit back room and the club nights for all tastes. A stream of men pours out of its doors at closing time, buzzing with frustration and triumph.

Right about now, my roommates will be crowding into a diner booth, sharing all the gossip before they come home at dawn.

That could be me tomorrow. Three hours ago, I turned 21, and apparently there’s nowhere like Vibes on a Saturday night. My friends want me to come, too—in every possible way. But I’ve got a secret: my desires are too twisted to be fulfilled in the throbbing beat and dim light of the dance floor.

If only they knew what I get up to in the dark.

A stronger breeze rushes into the room. For a second, I swear I catch a glimpse of the darkened street, and shadows of people walking past, and I can hardly breathe.

Excitement flushes my cheeks and races down to the tips of my fingers. Just like that… I’m touching myself. The first brush of my fingertips against my swollen, needy shaft makes me swallow a moan.

“Fuck,” I breathe out.

A couple of strokes couldn’t hurt. Enough to settle myself down, right?

Ha. As if. I can’t fool myself… but I can’t stop myself, either. The head of my cock is glistening and wet with anticipation. I’m so turned on it almost hurts.

Maybe… maybe tonight, Icouldkeep going, and it won’t take long, and I’ll be able to get there. After a sound night of sleep, I’ll wake up feeling like myself for the first time in weeks. I won’t need to guzzle coffee to survive my morning classes.

Oh, hell, why not? It’s after midnight, so it’s technically my birthday. And I deserve a treat. I just want to shoot my load so hard that I have to change my pillowcases.

“Mmm,” I groan softly, rolling my head back. “Fuck, fuck,fuuuck...”

The tight ring of my fingers feels so good around my sensitive hard-on. But this gentle pace isn’t going to get me there. I canbarely feel a gentle touch anymore. It makes it even tougher to lose myself in the fantasy of being woken by a single fingertip stroking around my nipple, say…

Why can’t it be like that first night a few months ago?

I accidentally left the window open, and I woke to a chilly bedroom and the sound of partygoers. It was just a stray passing thought:What if a stranger sees my wide-open window? What if he does something about it?

I’ve never gotten so hard so fast in my life. And that was the moment my life went downhill.

Most nights since then, I’ve imagined that stranger, but I don’t even try to picture his face. The hot part isn’t who he is. It’s what he is—cocky, experienced, and certain about his desires—and what he does about it.

He’ll notice the curtains fluttering and step over the low front wall into our little front yard. He’ll slowly pull aside the curtains and find me here, splayed out and naked on the bed. And he’ll like what he sees.

I squeeze myself firmly until electric chills of pleasure shudder their way down my spine. My cock is throbbing, but the more I try to let my mind be swamped by pleasure, the further I feel from the climax I so badly need.

Come on. Please…?

I roll onto my side, my back to the window. I imagine the soft scrape as the mystery man pushes aside the little rickety deck chair that sits outside my window. He looks around to see if anyone’s watching. Then, he shoves his way through the curtain.

I hear his footfall, heavy on the wooden floor. It’s all I can do to control my breathing, keep it nice and deep and even so I can pretend I’m asleep as he prowls up to me…

Damn it. I’m even more turned on now, but the build-up is too slow. This isn’t going to be the quick release I was hoping for. I choke back a moan of frustration, my grip tightening aroundthe throbbing length. The harder I go, the better chance I have of getting there. But, tomorrow night, I’ll need to go even harder.

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