Page 22 of A Little Secret
“Fuuuuck…” The word is low and throaty and raspy and…
I press my thighs together.
This is bad. This is really bad. Before I started dating Drew, Griffin was an easy guy to fantasize about. I blamed it on my teenage hormones and a lazy imagination because he was always there. And it’s not like I thought anything would actually happen between us. I’d never put our friendship—or Griffin’s friendship with Everett—on the line. But, uh, call me a sucker for being a girl who wants what she can’t have because I have a feeling this is a solid album for an easy orgasm tonight if I’m stupid enough to take advantage.
Me and Griff.
On the couch.
In the car.
At the rink.
It doesn’t matter. It never mattered. I’d think of him and…hello there, orgasm.
But that was before. Before Drew and I started dating. Before Drew threw down the gauntlet.
Don’t. Even. Think about it.
I could use an orgasm, though.
Especially when masculine grunting is filtering through the vents, and I’m stuck with my own lonely thoughts as company.
Nibbling on the edge of my lip, I weigh the pros and cons, deciding sleep is more important than mental cheating, thanks to our relationship already feeling like a bumpy car ride lately. But if I only use the orgasm-inducing sounds and pin them with fantasies of Drew, then it’s fine, right?
Yeah. Hello, loophole. Besides, doctors in the early 1900s would get their patients off all the time under the guise of mental health. Who’s to say I’m not doing the same thing? A little…self-treating female hysteria. See? Perfectly rational and totally acceptable.
I almost choke on my snort as I slip my hand under the thick white comforter and into my underwear.
Drew, I remind myself.Picture Drew.
I’ll just…use the little groans as fuel on an already smoldering ember.
Totally. Completely. Fine.
Closing my eyes, I imagine Drew on top of me. His hand sliding into my underwear. His…I sigh, annoyed by my own annoyance. Seriously, what is wrong with me?
With an annoyed huff, I try to focus.
Sleep. You’re doing this for sleep.
My mouth twitches, and I glance at the closed door,imagining what I would do if someone walked in right now. If they caught me…listening. I slip my hand further into my underwear. Yup. I’m soaked. Gently, I dip my finger inside and circle my clit, creating a…different and completely out-of-reach scenario.
“Hey, Fin?” a low voice growls from the hallway.
My breath hitches. “Yes?”
The door squeaks as it’s pushed open.
Resting his shoulder against the doorjamb, Griffin crosses his arms. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
His gaze falls to the sheets draped over me. “You sure?”
I nod, slipping my finger deeper inside of me.
“Looks to me like you’re playing with yourself.”