Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Plus, there’s the crazy awesome steam room in the Winchester locker rooms that I don’t have at my house.
I kick off my sneakers and peel off my running clothes, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around myself before I pad over to the big open shower area. There are individual stalls—I mean, a place as moneyed as Winchester Academy has the facilities to rival most private country clubs and ivy league colleges—but there’s no one here this late, and honestly, the open shower room gets better pressure anyways. So, screw it.
I hang the towel on a hook and start the water, letting it get steaming hot before I duck under, gasping at the heat but quickly sighing as it soothes my aching muscles. I shampoo and then soap up, closing my eyes and letting the water run down my body as I try and clear my mind.
Except, that’s not happening, and I know it. Because after last night? Yeah “clear” is the last thing my mind is.
I haven’t bumped into Camden all day. No gym class, and we didn’t have practice after classes today. And somehow, I’ve managed to avoid texting him at all. Somehow. I’m torn between wanting to talk to him about last night—about the major, major line I know we both know we crossed—and wanting to just play it cool. Mostly, I just don’t want him to see me as some sort of insecure, needy, clingy little girl, hence the wanting to play it cool part.
…But I’ve been replaying it all, on repeat, for the entire freaking day.
The water streams down my body, and my thoughts drift to him and the night before. My skin tingles, and there’s a heat between my legs from much more than the shower water as I close my eyes and replay it all. I remember his growls in my ear, the way his breath caught and choked as he…
I blush fiercely, shivering.
As he stroked his cock for me. With me. I squeeze my thighs together, moaning softly as I remember laying back on my bed and running my fingers down my body—touching myself and rolling them over my clit while he groaned into my ears. I remember pulling the phone from my ear to look at the picture he’d sent, and how seeing his huge, thick, pulsing cock sent a forbidden thrill through me.
Yes, I’d seen him like that before in the pictures we’d sent in our earlier dirty chats. But knowing he knew who I was and knowing that he was knowingly sending me pictures like that was another level of wrong and toe-curling hotness.
My nipples pucker under the spray of the shower, and my legs squeeze tighter together as my pulse quickens. My hands slide down my body, teasing over my tummy to push lower before I catch myself and pause.
Control yourself, girl.
I mean, no one’s here, but still. I groan, shaking my head and pulling my hands away from between my legs. This is what he does to me. This is what allowing my mind to go to Camden Kirby does to me, letting go of all rational inhibitions and preparing to masturbate in the freaking open shower area of the girls locker room.
I groan, the ache only intensifying between my legs and the need to sooth it almost overwhelming. But I can’t. Not here, even though I’m alone.
Instead, I just tighten my legs together again, my pulse quickening as I let my thoughts wander to Camden.
…I wish he was here.
I wish he was literally here, right now, with me under the spray of the water. I imagine him coming up behind me and sliding those big hands over my body to pull me into him. The ache becomes too much, and before I can stop myself again, I let one hand slide back down between my legs, and when my fingers tease over my bare lips, I gasp quietly.
In my head, it’s his hands. In my head, his lips and teeth are on my neck, making me gasp as his fingers tease my pussy. His thick, big cock throbs against my ass, and he growls into my ear, telling me everything he’s going to do to me, right here against the tiled walls of the showers.
My fingers move faster, rubbing my clit harder as I moan softly, one hand going flat against the wall. Hot water streams down my body, and I’m gasping, getting closer and closer, when suddenly—
“Waverly.”
I gasp, almost shrieking as my hand yanks from between my thighs and as my body whirls at the sound of his voice. Heat blooms over my entire body as my hands, on impulse, move to cover myself. Because right there, standing in the big open doorway to the showers with a towel around his bare, grooved hips and a look of pure, raw hunger on his face, is Camden.