Page 45 of Pitcher

“You know,” he starts, scooting closer and slipping his hand under the covers, placing it on my stomach, “I waited all night to dance with you.” He makes a noise low in his throat. “I looked everywhere for you.” His hand creeps down to my thigh. “And there you were, dressed like a royal princess, playing in the damn dirt.”

I go to argue that I was in the grass and not in the dirt, but his hand covers the hand currently still in my panties. He doesn’t make a move to slip under them. He just leaves it there. Resting. Flinching.

“I knew then, I was never going to be able to let you go.”

Oh God. Can you come from just words alone? I think I’m about to give it a shot.

“Press play,” he whispers by my ear. When I hesitate, he adds, “Unless you’re scared.”

He was never going to let me go.

I’m never going to let him go either.

I press the play button, and his voice sounds over the speakers this time.

“Now you’re close,” he praises on camera.

Icouldn’t have timed it better. I don’t know what exactly woke me, but I’d like to think my body has an internal alarm when Anniston McCallister is being naughty.

“Now you’re close,” says my younger self when things were much simpler between me and Anniston. Before her grandparents died and set our relationship back. I couldn’t very well ask her out when she was grieving. And then when we moved in together, things just got even more fucked up.

I was pent up. She was grieving, working hard to make her grandparents proud. She didn’t need me to barge into her plans and derail her. She needed a constant. She needed a friend. And I thought that’s all we’d ever be.

Until I woke up to her moans.

Until I woke up to her pleasuring herself to our prom video.

It’s a sign.

She could have been getting off to anything.Magic Mike.Fifty Shades of Grey. But she wasn’t. She was turned on by us dancing. And if that doesn’t make me rock-fucking-hard, then I don’t know what else will.

“Keep going,” I tell her, my voice husky.

I hear her gulp, and it makes me grin. Tortuously, I pull my hand from atop hers and pull her leg over mine, opening her fully. Her panties are still on, and as much as I would like to rip them clear off her body, I don’t. If I lose that barrier between us, there is no telling the mistakes I will make tonight.

“Don’t get scared now, McCallister,” I taunt, appealing to the competitive side of her. “Be brave.”

Be my fucking fantasy.

My hand drifts along her thigh, across the lace of her panties until it’s resting on top of hers again. The dampness there is almost my breaking point. If my shoulder wasn’t taped up, I’d probably jerk off alongside her.

But alas, karma is a petty bitch.

“Lower,” I tell her, taking control of this situation.

A small sound, almost a whimper, seeps from her lips as I push her hand lower, lining it up for what I want to do next.

“Now slide one finger in.”

Her leg quivers against me, and I pin it close to my body.

“Do it,” I encourage.

Anniston expels a breath, and I feel her body relax as if she’s accepted the fact she isn’t getting out of this. Her back arches, and the moan she lets out has my dick jumping at my pants, attempting to get free and help her.

Down, boy, not this time.

This time? What the fuck am I talking about? This can’t happen again. I’m leaving soon.

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