Straddling the Line

NINE

HAVEN WENT UPSTAIRS AND CLOSED HER DOOR, THEN got ready for bed.

Though she didn’t know why. She was restless and not at all tired, still keyed up after the party—after the conversation she’d had with Alicia and Liz about Trevor.

She sat in bed and turned on the television, then immediately turned it back off.

She wandered to the window, staring out over the sky. Her gaze was drawn to the pool area. She could take a swim. The pool was heated. There was a hot tub down there, too. Maybe she’d pour a glass of wine and sit in the hot tub. That would relax her a little and then she might be able to sleep.

But then she caught sight of Trevor, beer in hand, coming outside to take a seat on one of the chaises. He sat away from the deck, near the pool house storage area. She could barely see him, so she shifted to the far window to get a better view.

She should mind her own damn business and quit peeping out the window like a damn stalker. He probably just wanted some alone time to think.

But for some reason, she couldn’t walk away from the window. She could go down there and have a drink with him, but being near him was disconcerting, and her thoughts about him were confusing enough at the moment. It was best to just—

Just what? Hang out here and observe from the window?

She was a moron. A moron who wasn’t moving away from the window.

For the longest time, he didn’t move at all. He’d set his beer down on the table next to him.

Maybe he was sleeping. And she shouldn’t be watching him.

She started to turn away, except right then he moved his hand between his legs. Frozen in place, she couldn’t seem to move when he grabbed what had to be his cock. Even though he touched himself over his shorts, her body instantly tightened. Her nipples beaded against her thin tank top and she reached up to cup her breast, using her fingers to strum across her nipples.

When Trevor slid his hand inside his shorts, her breathing quickened.

Was he really going to do that outside? Where anyone could see him? Where she could see him? Though she supposed no one else could watch. He was secluded, the chaise in the shadows against the wall of the deck. The only one watching was her, and nothing could tear her away from the glorious sight of his hand moving inside his shorts.

She pulled her tank top down, exposing her breasts, rubbing over her nipples with abandon, wishing she could feel Trevor’s large, rough hands on her skin. Her pussy quivered, and she slid her hands over her sex, massaging the ache, feeling the wetness that had seeped through.

She needed sex. It had been too long, and the sight of a hot, supermasculine man like Trevor getting himself off turned her on in the worst way. Or maybe the best way, because she quivered everywhere.

She tucked her hand inside her panties, reveling in the dampness of her sex. She felt swollen, achy, and so ready for a mind-blowing orgasm that she hovered on the brink of marching downstairs and climbing on top of Trevor’s cock, demanding he be the one to give it to her.

But that would be reckless, and if there was one thing Haven wasn’t, it was reckless. Which was too bad, because Trevor had pulled his shorts down, taking out what looked to be one magnificent cock. If she were brave enough—which she wasn’t—she’d sneak downstairs and spy on him through the back door, where she could get a better look. As it was, she’d have to make do from up here, where the light from the moon gave her only glimpses of the way he masterfully stroked his cock with rhythmic up-and-down motions, causing her to rub her pussy back and forth, tuck two fingers inside and use the heel of her hand against her clit until she was so ready to burst she had to pull back.

She’d come when he came. And she’d try not to scream when she did, because she could already feel her vaginal wall tightening around her fingers.

When his strokes turned faster, so did hers. And when he tilted his head back, she could swear he was looking right up at her room. She almost ducked back into the shadows, but she was too far gone, and by now she didn’t care. Let him see. Let him come up here and finish the job by plunging his cock inside her.

But then she noticed his eyes were closed, his hips pumping up as his hand worked his cock in a beautiful, twisting motion at the same time her fingers dove into her pussy.

“Take me there, Trevor,” she whispered, perspiring as she feverishly worked her clit and pussy. “Make me come—hard.”

He lifted his shirt—oh, God, those abs were a work of art. He directed his cock toward his lower belly, and white ropes of come spurted across his stomach as he jerked his hips forward.

“Ohhh, yes,” she whispered, trembling as she released while watching Trevor’s orgasm. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen, and she came hard while imagining his hips pumping hard into her while both of them climaxed together.

Spent, her legs still shaking, she lay her head against the cool windowpane. Trevor lay still for a few minutes, then grabbed a nearby towel, wiped his abs, and pulled up his shorts, then finished off his beer and got up. He grabbed the towel and his beer and disappeared into the house.

Taking a deep breath, Haven went into the bathroom to clean up, then climbed into bed.

She had planned on doing some work, but she lay in the dark staring up at the ceiling, her mind replaying visuals of Trevor’s cock, of his rock-hard abs, and wishing she’d had the courage to go out there and interrupt him.

She knew he would have been receptive. He didn’t strike her as the shy type at all. Whereas she didn’t have a ballsy bone in her body. Which was why she’d been thinking about sex with Trevor all night, yet hadn’t done anything about it.

Someday, maybe, she’d change that. For now, she lay in her bed, strangely unsatisfied despite that amazing orgasm.

And she still felt as alone as ever.