Page 41 of Best Kept Secret
Panic gets the better of me and, tearing my fingers through my hair, I start pacing the length of my room, trying to process. On one hand, I need to remember that she’s a single, full-grown adult woman, and it’s normal to hook up with guys you’re dating. Hell, I’ve gone home with girls after dates. It’s not a big deal. But on the other, slightly less reasonable hand, the hand that is clenched into a fist and tinged green like the fucking Hulk, this ismygoddamn apartment, and I said no fucking guys.
Fuck. This.
Spinning on my heel, I storm out of my bedroom and down the hall to Millie’s door. But just as I’m about to knock and dragthe guy’s scrawny ass out of my apartment, my hand hesitates mid-air when I hear something else. Something that makes me realize I may have jumped to conclusions.
“Oh, Logan.”
I swear to God, my eyes almost pop out of my damn head. With my heart in the back of my throat, I lean in close, pressing my ear against the door to get a better listen.
Buzzing. Holy shit. That’s definitely fucking buzzing!
She isn’t in there with that turtleneck-wearing fuck at all. She’s… alone.
Right now, I’m the definition of a fucking creeper, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, my dick hard from the wet dream I was on the verge of, plastered up against Millie’s bedroom door listening to her masturbate while moaning my fucking name.
Fuck, that’s so hot.
If this were a porno, I’d open the door and casually walk inside, asking her if she needed a hand, which she would willingly accept. But this isn’t a porno. This is real life. And all I can do is stand here, listening like a perverted asshole.
I should give her space. Let her do her thing. She’s an adult. I’m an adult. We all need a little self-care every now and again. It’s healthy. But I can’t move. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I’m stuck to the spot. And the more I listen to the sound of her soft, breathy moans dancing through the silent darkness, the more my dick leaks, my balls aching.
I am a sick, sick man.
“Oh, my God, it feels so good,” Millie squeaks through panting breaths. “Yes, just like that.”
I bite down hard on my bottom lip, and if the taste of blood on my tongue is any indication, I’m positive I’ve busted open the split from last night, but I don’t even care. This is too good. Squeezing my eyes closed, I rest my forehead against the door, trying so hard to keep what little cool I have, but it’s hard. Pun fully intended. Like fucking steel.
Fuck, I want to touch myself so bad, but I don’t. If I do, I won’t be able to control myself. Imagine if I was too loud. If she heard me. If she caught me standing here with my fucking dick in my hand outside her bedroom. She’d call the cops. Hell, I’d call the cops on my own ass.
“Right there… Yes, ohmygod I want it so…fucking… bad.”
Man, she’s really getting into it.
I’m forced to steel myself with a deep, steadying breath because fuck I wish I could see her right now. How does she get herself off? Does she kneel on the bed and ride her toy until she comes. Or is she on her back, thick thighs spread wide, pussy wet as hell as she teases her little clit until she’s a thrashing, convulsing mess, unable to take it anymore.
“Please, Logan, fuck me. I want your cock,” Millie’s voice sounds strangled, throaty and rasped and dripping with desperation and need, and it’s taking every last ounce of my waning willpower not to bust a Logan-sized hole straight through this door and answer her pleas. This is torture at an inhumane level.
I don’t even realize my hips are moving until I feel friction against my dick. I’m practically dry humping Millie’s bedroom door like some fucking dog in heat. But I can’t stop. I need something. Anything. As her sounds grow slightly louder, slightly more uninhibited, I can tell she’s so close. And so am I. I can feel that coil at the base of my spine starting to tense, feel that familiar tingling sensation in the pit of my gut as my balls tighten.
I release a shuddering breath.
“Oh, my God, I’m going to come.”
Do it, baby, I urge her in my mind.Be a good girl and make that pretty pussy come for me.
“Oh, fuck!” A strangled cry comes through the door, followed by heavy, panting breaths, chanting, “I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming.”
A long and palpable silence ensues. It almost feels like I blacked out. For a moment, I wonder if this is another dream. Adream within a dream. But when I finally come to, my knees are weak, my head is dizzy, and my briefs are… wet.
With a shaky exhale, I drag a hand down over my racking chest, my stomach, stopping at my boxers and feeling the evidence. I came in my pants. Hard. I’m a fucking mess. Without even touching myself, I came in my pants to the sound of my roommate, my teammate’s little sister, getting herself off on the other side of the door.
I, Logan Cullen, am going to hell. Or jail. Either way, there’ll be some fucking Netflix special made about me:My Roommate, The Creep. I hope they get that guy fromThe Bearto play me…
CHAPTER 19
MILLIE
“Millie!”
