Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Goddammit.
Lying here in indecision was dumb. If I was going to do this, there was no sense in waiting.
I needed to go now.
SIXTEEN
Colin
I should have been asleep, or—if I was going to be awake—I should have been studying. But what I should be doing versus what I actually did were rarely the same, which was why I was about to jerk off instead.
It was the third time I’d watched this video, which was ridiculous. I had free access to all of Petal Productions content, including the stuff from long before I’d started here, and yet I’d barely touched their library.
Every night I came back to the same video.
It was Mads on the bed in the studio, staring into the camera as she held a black vibrator to her clit and said she wanted us to come together. Of course, the us she meant was her and the viewer, but I liked to pretend she actually meant me.
Last week, I’d tried to jerk off to our audition video, but it didn’t work for me at all. No matter how hot she looked, my focus inevitably shifted to myself, and I found a million things to criticize. I disliked the way my voice sounded, or whatever dumb thing I said made me cringe, or my pale ass looked stupid.
Mads’ solo video eliminated all that. I could just focus on her.
Even with the lights off, it never got that dark in my room because the blinds didn’t close all the way, and the exterior lights shining on the house stayed on all night, but I’d gotten used to it over the last month. I adjusted my headphones, got comfortable on my bed, and held my phone in one hand while I jammed the other inside my underwear.
I wrapped my fist around my semi-hard dick, but I only made it a single stroke before freezing.
Was . . . someone knocking on my door?
I paused the video, pulled off my headphones, and listened—but there was nothing. The silence stretched and all I heard was my own breathing.
Maybe I’d imagined it.
I went to put my headphones back on, only to hear quiet footsteps outside my door slowly walking away. Shit. I hurried up off the bed and yanked my door open, startling Mads, who was in the dark hallway, carrying a pillow and a thick comforter.
She turned, and her eyes widened until they seemed to be all white. I was only wearing a pair of short boxer briefs, and her gaze dragged over every inch of my body, which I enjoyed. She’d seen me naked three times already, but she still acted like she was seeing something that was forbidden.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
She shifted the bedding in her arms. “Trying not to have an orgasm.”
My pulse kicked. “What?”
“It’s too fucking hot in my room.” She leaned against the wall and gave me a desperate look. “It feels so good down here.”
“Changed your mind, huh?”
She nodded slowly. “Is that okay? I would have texted, but . . .”
We didn’t have each other’s number. I pushed my door open wider and gestured for her to follow me. “Yeah, it’s fine. Come on in.”
She walked to the edge of my room but hovered at the threshold, like she was unsure if she could make herself cross it.
The lights were off in my room, but there was still some low light, and my eyes were adjusted. Was her hair darker than normal? Wait, no. It was wet. She’d pulled it up into a messy bun on the top of her head and didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup. She had on a white tank top and a pair of barely-there shorts that showed off her toned legs.
Fuck me—she was just as hot as she’d been in the video I’d started watching.
She scanned my room, and she seemed more curious than critical, but what was with her hesitation? I lifted my eyebrows to wordlessly ask, are you coming? She swallowed a breath and stepped into the room, moving out of the way so I could shut the door.
“What’s the story on the comforter?” I motioned to the folded blue quilt she was holding.
“I don’t have a sleeping bag.” Her gaze was pinned to my chest, and her shoulders were tight. It was strange how she looked more nervous now than she’d been during our audition.
It took me a second to get why she’d want a sleeping bag—she thought I’d make her sleep on the floor.
I set my hands on my waist. “You can sleep in the bed.”
“What about you?” Her gaze snapped up to finally meet mine. “Where are you going to be?”
“Uh . . .”
I scratched an itch behind my ear. Up until a second ago, I’d assumed I’d be in the bed with her. It was my bed, after all, and a voice inside me protested loudly that she’d been partly responsible for getting me kicked out of my frat. It’d be a bit much to let her kick me out of my own bed too.