I sighed and pulled the pillow to my chest before telling her of the day’s events.
By the time I was finished, and she’d asked a million questions, the game was over, and the Beasts had won, breaking their losing streak.
When I crawled into bed, my phone pinged. I giggled like a young girl when Kane’s name appeared on the screen.
Kane: Ur officially my good luck charm.
Me: I don’t think you need luck, that hit was awesome!
Kane: U watched the game?
Me: Yep. First one ever. My roomie had to explain things to me, so you’ll have to be patient with my learning curve.
Kane: I have tons of patience.
My stomach twisted, deep and low.
Me: You do? It seems to me that you’re a bit impetuous.
Kane: Sometimes. There is a time to take things slow and a time to speed things up.
Oh dear heavens. I pressed my thighs together and felt the dampness there. Rolling over, I stuffed a small pillow under my pelvis and ground down into it, releasing some of the pressure. The strategy backfired immediately, and I groaned, grinding again.
Me: How do you know which speed to go?
Kane: Instinct and feeling. Connection.
Me: I’m glad we connected. Thank you again.
Kane: Stop thanking me. I’m glad too. When can I see you again?
I rolled onto my back, disappointed by what I had to type next.
Me: Not until the gala ? You’ll be on the road, then I’m booked every evening when you get back. There is some local dog show that weekend, so it’s busier than usual. But I’ll watch the game.
Kane: You will? All of them? You know we play every day, right?
I actually didn’t know that but decided I didn’t care.
Me: Yes, all of them.
Kane: Promise? I need my good luck charm, you know.
Me: I promise. It was actually fun.
Kane: I’m glad you didn’t suffer for me. And speaking of suffering…
I waited, but nothing else came through.
Me: Yes?
Kane: For informational purposes only, did you know that you can’t have sex with anyone for twenty-four hours after a wax?
Me: I was not aware of such restrictions, but I appreciate the warning. Should that be a concern?
I stared at the message for a long moment before getting up the nerve to send it. I held my breath and watched the three dots moving at the bottom of my screen.
Kane: I hope so.
Me: I’ll call the spa tomorrow and see if they can change my appointment. Just in case.
Kane: Beautiful and wise.
Another text from Kane popped up immediately.
Kane: No pressure. Seriously. But dammit if it’s not fun wondering ‘will she or won’t she?’
Me: You’ll get your answer Saturday night.
Kane: I look forward to it. Sleep well, FGF.
Me: ???
Kane: Fake girlfriend.
I smiled at my screen.
Me: You sleep well too, FBF.
Still smiling like a fool, I tossed my phone onto the bed beside me, my body still singing with anticipation. My nipples were tight, and I shivered when I touched them.
I wished it was Kane’s hand touching me, then began to imagine that it was. His fingers would be stronger, harder, callused, and rough as they trailed down my stomach. I closed my eyes, imagining him touching me… and whimpered as I parted my flesh and slid a finger inside myself, gathering the moisture there before smoothing it over my clit. Heat spread across my skin as my — his — hands caressed me.
I shouldn’t have been doing this.
But the throbbing between my legs didn’t care about what I should or shouldn’t have been doing. The desperate arousal driving me was stronger than anything I’d felt in a long time, maybe ever.
Cupping my breast with my free hand, I rolled my nipple, wishing it was Kane’s strong and certain touch. I moaned as I could almost feel his teeth scrape my skin. His lips and tongue moving lower and lower…
My — Kane’s — fingers stroked over the wet curls, finding and circling my clit.
Need jolted through me, and my back arched as my mind fed me an image of him sinking to his knees, his hands spreading my thighs. Touching me with his mouth, his tongue firm as it stroked up my slit.
My abdomen tightened as I tried to imagine how that would feel.
I wouldn’t know. I’d never experienced it before. The fumbling boy or selfish football player had never gone down on me, but I wanted Kane to. I wanted to watch his head move between my thighs as he fed on me, drinking his fill. Worshiped me. Made me feel good.
A moan tore from my throat as I pushed two fingers deep inside me. They were Kane’s fingers scissoring, stretching me, my muscles spasming around their intrusion. I arched up, and the heel of my hand pressed against my clit, giving me the pressure I needed. Wanted. Craved.
More images flashed through my mind.
Kane crawling up my body. His muscles flexing as he rode me. His sweat under my fingertips. The taste of his skin.
The way he would fill me the first time. The words he would say. The sounds he would make. The way he would look at me as our bodies connected, and I closed around him.
His eyes. Those beautiful green eyes watching me as our bodies came together over and over again. His warm breath on my face. The groans as he came, his hips thrusting hard then stilling as he released.
The pressure building inside me exploded, and I came, pressing my lips together to muffle the cry. My blood roared in my ears as my heart thudded hard, then slowed.
When I opened my eyes, I was alone as I knew I would be, but it didn’t stop the little pang of longing that shot through me.
Suddenly restless, I got up and washed my hands and face, smoothing moisturizer on my skin. As I brushed my teeth, I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering what Kane saw when he looked at me. He said I was beautiful, but the ghostly complexion and freckles were only cute if anything.
Get some sun, Eliana. You look pale and sick.
Please do something with that hair.
I’ve found a laser service that can rid you of those dreadful freckles.
Sit up straight. Your boobs are non-existent already without hiding them under stooped shoulders.
Taking a deep breath, I turned away from the mirror and my mother’s hateful voice. Slipping beneath the covers, I thought of Kane again. Beside me, my phone pinged, and I reached for it, tapping the screen.
Kane: I’m still fake thinking of you.
I smiled.
Me: I’m still fake thinking of you too.
As I fell asleep, my phone still in my hand, I couldn’t help but wish for all of this to be real.
***
“Eliana Anderson?”
I looked from the Cosmo article I’d been consuming — Sixteen Ways To Make Your Man Wild For You In Bed — and jumped up, my nerves singing as I walked toward a petite brunette who didn’t look big enough to pull tape off the wall let alone the hair from my body.
“Thanks so much for shifting my appointment,” I told her as she herded me down a narrow hallway.