Page 33 of One More Weekend

At my bedside, I took a sip of the water on the table and rested my forehead on my palms.

We’d taken the train home. My arm grew warm, a sense memory coming back to the skin as I remembered looping my arm in hers to “stabilize” myself. I could still feel the electricity pulsing through every nerve in my arm.

Then we stumbled upstairs, I guess I had… and then…

Shit.

No way I had actually made a move.

And worse, that I’d gotten so brutally rejected.

Groaning, I threw my body back into the bed.Dumbass. How many times does she have to say no for it to get through your thick skull?

But I bit my lips, remembering how good she looked. Searching my mind for a reason I would have tried to cross that line, the image of her eyes flicking down to my lips came back.

Maybe I imagined it?

Shaking it off, I stood from my bed and walked out into the living room in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of bikini-cut panties.

When I poked my head out, I offered a test shout, “Sy?”

I waited in silence for a few seconds before shrugging. She’s working for sure.

Thank god, I have some time to think about how to fix this.

My bare feet were relieved by the coolness of the wood floors, making the heat of our sweltering apartment in June more bearable. As I walked, I scanned my email on my phone for any interview requests.

Nothing.

This was getting desperate. I wasn’t sure how much longer it would take but the window of opportunity was shrinking quickly – as was my savings account.

Opening the fridge, I grabbed a sports drink from inside. But when I slammed the door closed, I was met with a printed-out picture from a couple years ago. The image immediately brought a smile to my face.

Just after turning 21, Sy and I had gone on a trip to IKEA in Brooklyn to pick out furniture for our new place. A few of our other friends – most of whom had moved to new cities by now – tagged along and took the picture.

I’d jokingly hopped into Sy’s arms as we walked into one of the showroom bedrooms.

There I was, stretched across her. And she was beaming down at me.

My chest tightened. Even looking at it, I could see the love I felt for her. Not just romantic, but the kind that made me want to rip off her clothes.

My legs tensed as a jolt of…somethingwent straight to my center.

Biting my lip, I checked the time. Sy was at the coffee shop, she wouldn’t be home for another couple of hours or so.

Maybe some blood flow will help this headache?

I hadn’t had sex since before Clay and I had broken up and I was growing insatiable. Maybe my sudden lust for Sy was just desperation…

With a shrug, I took myself back to my room. I didn’t bother closing the bedroom door, knowing I had plenty of time.

Reaching into my nightstand, I grabbed the egg-shaped vibrator from its cloth bag and leaned back into my pile of pillows.

I sucked in a deep breath as I plunged the toy down my panties and to my throbbing clit. Holding down the button, I gasped when the pulses of air hit my bead.

“Fuck.” A groan rumbled through my chest as my eyes clenched shut. Behind them, the picture flashed in the dark of my eyelids. Sy’s toned arms… her cheeky smile…

Readjusting, I moved my hood to expose my clit to the toy even more as I shook my head.

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