Page 40 of Hide From Me

“Who said I wasn’t home?”

He gives me a look.“Last time we FaceTimed, your bed had neon lights behind it. The time before that was a leather couch and a pink blanket. So unless I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you in the wrong rooms… you’re not at your place.”

His palm drags over his erection with maddening pressure, and I curse how hot it is that he notices that kind of detail.

I glance down, pretending to fix my shirt. “Laura’s. Jack and her are upstairs.”

He doesn’t blink.“Don’t care if they’re awake. You’re going to take off those little shorts and show me what I’m missing.”

I raise a brow, lips twitching. “Take off your shirt first.”

“No, sunshine. Not tonight. I’ll show you anything else you want, though.”

“Why not?” I pause my motions, not hiding the disappointment on my face. I've let this man see all of me in very obscure situations. I mean for fucks sake, Isent him a picture of my damn tits the other day and yet, I’ve never seen him fully undressed, not once. There's no reason for him to be self conscious, judging by the strain in his shirts he's fit. Maybe he has an embarrassing tattoo–oh god what if he has a tattoo of some woman's name?

“Because I’m done with the questions and you’ll only have more.”

Okay that's fair enough. Despite the thought, I poke out my bottom lip and bat my lashes which earn a low growl in response. It doesn't sound frustrated or agitated but amused.

“Such a little brat,”Moe laughs and he teases the waist of his sweats, barely sliding up the hem of his sweatshirt with the motion, giving me a small peak of what could lay beneath. A nice patch of hair covers a thin strip between the deep cut v and as his abdomen tenses with a breath. But when his fingers hook deeper into the sweats the shirt falls back.“Pout at me like that in person and you might get what you want. Now are you going to listen or are you going to leave me with blue balls?”

“I don't pout.” I huff.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

It's nerve wracking to say the least, knowing I'm not in the safety of my own house where it’s private and I don’t have the chance of being caught. Here at any moment, one of my friends can walk down those steps and catch me. It feels taboo and oh so wrong to even debate on feeding into this delusion, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins straight to my core makes it almost impossible to refuse. Standing, my face breaks from view of the camera only giving him the sight of my hips wriggling as I push my shorts to my ankles. The air is too cold in the house making goosebumps prickle against my skin and a chill rolls down my spine. I can't help but look to the staircase again as my fingers slip into the lining of my panties, but Moe’s voice pulls me back, making me hesitate.

“Leave your panties on,”Moe instructs.“Give me a little turn.”

I raise my shirt, twist slowly, and when I face him again, his cock is already out—thick, flushed, and slick in his grip.

“I’m gonna tell you what to do, and how to do it. Yeah?”

I drop onto the couch again, nerves buzzing. My heart is racing too fast with anxiety. Every groan of the walls sounds like footsteps, and each tree limb brushing the roof sounds like whispers in the house. I nod and he lets out a shaky breath as he releases his dick to raise his hand to his mouth and drag his tongue up the length.

“Feet on the table. Legs spread.”

I’m suddenly regretting not taking Jack up on the offer of taking the guest room this time instead. Then again, how was I supposed to know I’d be spreading myself out in front of a camera tonight?

“Someone could come downstairs,” I whisper.

“Let them see. Let them hear you. I don’t give a fuck.”

I swallow hard as my bare heels connect with the cold surface and I suck in a harsh breath as the air kicks on, sending a chill from under the table straight to my slicked underwear.

“Look at me.”

I snap my gaze back to his. He’s watching me with those eyes—hungry, commanding, possessive. Is scarring my friends for life really worth a little orgasm?

“There’s those pretty eyes. Now slip your hand in your underwear, but don’t do anything more.”

He watches every twitch of my thighs, every hesitation as I slide my hand into my panties, and my thighs tremble.

“I want you to show me how you get off when I’m not there.”

The tip of my finger dips between my folds, gliding through the slick heat before circling back up to my clit. I whimper quietly. Just enough for him to see it in the tension of my body. It’s not enough. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I have an audience, if I’m too nervous of being caught, or if it's because he's not here.

I swallow. “It’s not the same.”