Sinful Nights: A Collection Of Erotic Desires
None of them would work.
He cleared his throat, the sound rough in the quiet room. The storm had faded to a gentle patter. "You, uh... dropped your... book," he said, his voice low. He placed the dildo carefully on the nightstand, next to the fallen paperback, as if it were a fragile artifact.
I couldn't speak. I just pulled the blanket up to my chin, wishing it would swallow me whole.
But then he didn't leave. He just stood there, his gaze locked on mine. The air crackled, thick with everything unsaid-the naked encounter, the mutual masturbation we'd pretended didn't happen, and now this. The last shred of pretense was gone.