Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125845 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125845 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
I snap myself out of the past. “It was a shitty way to end the season,” I say.
Her hand finds its way onto my right biceps. My arms are looking huge these days, if I do say so myself. When you’re not having sex, working out is imperative for your sanity.
“I’m sorry,” Gina purrs. Her fingers gently glide over my bare skin, sending pinpricks of heat through my arm.
I almost groan out loud. Sweet fuck, I’m so horny that a woman caressing my arm is giving me a semi.
I know I should brush her hand off me, but it’s been so long since I’ve been touched in a non-platonic way. At home my roommates are constantly pawing at me, but there’s nothing sexual about it. Brenna likes to mockingly smack or pinch my ass whenever we pass each other in the hall, but that’s not because she wants me. She’s just an asshole.
“Want to go somewhere quiet and talk or something?” Gina suggests.
I’ve lived on this planet long enough to be able to decode what “talk or something” means in girl speak.
1) There won’t be much talking.
2) There’ll be a lot of “or something.”
Gina couldn’t have made this clearer if she were holding up a sign saying DO ME! She even licks her lips as she voices the question.
I know I should say no, but the idea of going home right now and jacking off in my bedroom while my roommates marathon old seasons of The Hills isn’t too appealing. So I say, “Sure,” and follow Gina out of the room.
We end up in a small den that contains a couch, a couple of bookshelves, and a desk against the far wall under a window. It’s surprisingly empty. The party gods have taken pity on my celibate ass and provided us with the kind of dangerous privacy I should actively be avoiding. Instead, I’m on the couch and letting Gina kiss my neck.
Her satin camisole rubs my arm and it’s almost pornographic how good the barely there friction feels. Everything is turning me on these days. I got a stiffy watching a YouTube ad for Tupperware the other day because the MILF in the ad was peeling a banana. Then she chopped it up into bits and placed the banana pieces in a plastic container and not even that horrific symbolism could dissuade me from jerking off to Banana Woman. Give me a few more months and I’ll be fucking the apple pies my roommate Rupi bakes every Sunday.
“You smell so good.” Gina inhales deeply, then exhales, her warm breath tickling my neck. Her lips latch on once more, a hot, wet brand against my neck.
She feels good in my lap. Her shapely thighs straddle mine, her satin-clad body warm and curvy. And I have to stop this.
I made a promise to myself, and to my team, although none of them asked me to do it and they all think I’m insane for even attempting abstinence. Matt flat-out stated he doesn’t believe that me setting aside my sexual urges is going to impact our hockey games in the slightest. But I think it will, and for me it’s a matter of principle. The guys voted me captain. I take that responsibility seriously, and I know from personal experience that I have the tendency to let women mess with my head. Screwing around got me a broken wrist last year. I’m not looking to repeat that.
“Gina, I—”
She cuts me off by pressing her lips to mine, and then we’re kissing and my mind begins to spin. She tastes like beer and bubble gum. And her hair, which falls over one shoulder in a thick curtain of red curls, smells like apples. Mmmm, I want to eat her up.
Our tongues dance and the kiss grows deeper, hotter. My head keeps spinning as lust and unhappiness war inside me. I’ve lost all capability to think clearly. I’m so hard it hurts and Gina makes it worse by rubbing herself all over my crotch.
Thirty more seconds, I tell myself. Thirty more seconds and then I’ll stop this from going any further.
“I want you so bad.” Her lips are fused to my neck again, and then, fuck, her hand slides between us. She cups my cock over my shorts and I almost weep with pleasure. It’s been so long since a hand that didn’t belong to myself touched my dick. It feels criminally good.
“Gina, no,” I groan, and it takes all my willpower to remove her hand. My cock protests by leaking precome all over the inside of my boxers.
Her cheeks are flushed red. Eyes glazed. “Why not?”
“I’m…taking a break from all that.”
“From what?”
“Sex.”
“What about it?”
“I’m going without.”
“Without what?” She looks as confused as I am miserable.
“Without sex,” I clarify glumly. “As in, I’m not having it for a while.”