Page 32 of Pinkie Promise

“You liked every single one of my Instagram photos,” she breathes.

I nod again. “Yeah. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

She laughs and cocks her head to the side. “What d’you mean?”

“Like, when you see a picture that you like, you click the heart. I’ve never had the app before but it seems pretty obvious to me.”

She raises her eyebrows and says, “You downloaded Instagram so that you could follow me?”

God, this room is warm. “Yeah,” I say gruffly. “I did.”

I can tell that she’s pleased from the lip-biting smile that she’s giving me. “Which picture was your favourite?”

Not exactly gonna tell her that I like the one where she’s flat on her back and I can see the outlines of her nipples. Instead I clear my throat and say, “They’re all… really fuckin’ nice.”

She narrows her eyes playfully, still smiling. “Hmm, no, I think you’ll have a favourite. Don’t worry though, I’ll get it out of you.”

I spread my thighs wider on the couch.You’ve been doing that, alright.

I tug at the collar of my shirt, trying to angle the subject of this conversation away from my extracurriculars with Fallon’s Instagram. “Okay, I’m giving you four minutes or I’m gonna have to drag you out of here dressed like that.”

“Why four minutes?” she pouts. “I told you I needed five.”

“Your skirt just annihilated ten years off my life, Fallon. I don’t have time to waste.”

She breathes out a laugh and mock-groans, “Fine.”

I watch her bare feet pad across the floor, catching her eyes again before she closes the door to the bathroom.

I immediately throw my shoulders against the back of the couch, shoving one fist in my mouth and the other down to the front of my jeans. I fumble with my belt buckle and quickly flick the top button on my pants. My fingers breach the waistband and I slide my palm under my boxers, grunting hard into my fist as I grip the solid root of my cock. It’s borderline impossible to jack off when you’re being constricted by two layers of clothing but God loves a fucking tryer so I give it my best shot. Just enough to take the edge off sitting shoulder to shoulder with Fallon in a dark confined space for the next two hours.

I tighten my hold on my shaft and give it three fast tugs, my jaw bunching hard as a spurt of moisture shoots out of the tip. I swipe it quickly with my palm and then stroke it down my length.

Then I hear the shower spray begin to pound and I almost come on the damn spot.

I remove my left fist from my mouth and grip it into the top of Fallon’s sofa, although I keep my other hand in my boxers to try and alleviate the deep pulsing ache.

After one godforsaken minute I decide that staring like a serial killer at Fallon’s bathroom door isn’t helping my cock come down from its high, so I slowly extract my palm from my pants and begin buttoning myself back up.

She’s naked in the shower right now. Her hot slick body is dripping with warm water.

The cords in my neck tighten as I slide my belt back into place and then I lumber stiffly to her kitchen, bracing my palms flat on her counter.

Did she even lock the bathroom door?

It’s none of my business. NONE of my goddamn business.

Seven and a half minutes later Fallon is breezing out of her bathroom with a big towel wrapped around her body, and she’s slipping soundlessly into her bedroom without meeting my eyes. I white-knuckle her kitchen counter for the next fifty seconds while hearing the sounds of drawers opening and zippers closing, and then she quietly exits her bedroom in a cute knit jumper and a pair of ass-hugging jeans. She has the scarf that she wore to the game around her neck and her hair is down, reaching just below her waist.

“I brought my truck,” I tell her as I carefully manoeuvre my body back around the counter, and she nods her head at me as she pulls her key from her jeans pocket. I trail my eyes down her body while she locks up the condo and then I decide that it’s for the best if I just don’t look at her for the rest of the night.How the hell is she still getting me going when she’s covered from neck to ankle?

“Do I get to twenty-one questions you while you drive us to the movies?” she asks.

Something poker hot strikes in my abs when she uses the word ‘us’. I follow behind her as she walks towards the elevator and she gives me an encouraging smile over her shoulder when my silence breaches the ten-second mark.

I clear my throat hard.She can do whatever the hell she wants to me while I drive.

“Yeah,” I say as we descend to the ground floor, the elevator going at lightning speed. “This building’s fucking insane.”

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