Inappropriate Thoughts (Victoria Wilde #1) (12 page)

After leading him back onto the court, she
suggested that he adjust his grip by rotating the racquet slightly
in his hand and added that she thought he should keep his shoulder
down as he hit the ball.

She moved behind him to demonstrate and got
close enough that she could smell him. He was completely sweaty,
yet he didn’t smell bad at all. She actually liked his scent. As
Brian brought his hand back, she grabbed his arm and demonstrated
the recommended changes to his stroke. Their bodies were pressed
together, and as they looked each other in the eye, they shared
some kind of quick moment. They both felt it, but Jillian cleared
her throat, let go of his arm, and took a half-step backward.

She said, "So, um, that’s how I think you
should... uh..."

A little flustered, Brian looked at her and
struggled to avoid popping a full boner right there in front of
her, even though it wouldn't have been anything she hadn't already
seen. He bounced the ball, tried her swing suggestions, and blasted
a shot over the net.

"You see?" Jillian said with a bright
smile.

"Thanks for the tip. I’ll work on that," he
said as he rushed over and sat on the bench, covering his lap with
a towel.

Joining him on the bench, she grabbed her bottle
of water and poured a little down the back of her neck. She placed
the cold bottle to her forehead, glanced at Brian, and licked her
lips. She closed her eyes and flashed back to a minute earlier,
when their hot bodies were pressed up against each other; she was
momentarily overcome by the memory. After fanning her hand at her
face, she poured a splash of water down her front, just as Brian
glanced at her. He watched, mesmerized, as the water slowly slid
between her breasts. His eyes widened as his heart sent blood to
his cheeks… and other places.

He stood up quickly. "I’d better go take a
shower. It’s really hot out here. Uh, thanks again for the
lesson."

While watching him go, she poured the rest
of the water down her front.

In the guest room bathroom, Brian stripped
off his sweaty clothes, set the water to a cool temperature, and
climbed into the shower. Exhausted, he stood there letting the
water stream over his body. He looked down and saw that despite the
cool water, he was evidently still thinking about Jillian. He
thought about the previous night, how Jillian, while under the
influence, had come clean about her voyeuristic morning. He could
not erase from his brain the image of her proud unveiling of her
personal design choice. He found himself unable to resist...

Jillian stood outside the guest room, eyeing
the door and longing to kiss him, to touch him, and to shower with
him. She didn’t have a plan, but she was desperate for at least one
more glimpse. She figured she should probably make sure he had
enough towels. That would be the proper thing to do, she thought,
although a towel restock was usually better done when your guest
was fully clothed. Regardless, it still needed to be done, she kept
telling herself.

After grabbing a towel from the linen
closet, she knocked lightly on the door and called Brian’s name.
When there was no reply, she slowly opened the door. She entered
the room, heard the shower running, and saw that the door to the
adjoining bathroom was open. She heard the uneven sounds of water
hitting the shower floor that told her he was actually in the
shower and not just standing outside, waiting for the water to
reach the proper temperature. She tiptoed to the doorframe and
peered through the inch-wide opening on the hinge side, which gave
her a clear line of sight to the glass-enclosed shower.

A towel was draped over the clear glass door
and hung down just enough to block her view of Brian’s chest and
upward. The glass was clean and fog-free, and it provided her a
perfect view of him as he showered. But he wasn’t showering; he was
touching himself. With his left hand, he had a death grip on the
towel that hung over the shower door, and he worked himself with
his right. Jillian followed the bulging muscle in his right
shoulder to the equally-flexed bicep, down to his straining hand,
as he really focused on his task.

As she watched him, she slipped her hand
under her skirt to her completely sweat-soaked panties. She closed
her eyes, and the Jaclyn West third-person narrative kicked in:

Katrina watched as Dallas worked his manhood
in the shower. She wondered if he was thinking of her or of someone
else. She leaned against the doorframe, her breathing labored as
she longed to be in there with him and doing that for him. Slipping
her right hand under her skirt, she began running her index finger
over her cotton-covered pussy. Her eyes remained glued on his sex,
as he continued to pump it faster and faster. She pushed a finger
under her panties and began touching the slick lips of her pussy.
Katrina closed her eyes and pulled her hand from between her legs.
Here she was, just a few feet away from a spectacular man with a
rock hard cock. She wasn’t going to let another opportunity pass
her by. Opening her eyes, she looked again at Dallas. God, he
looked good in there!

Katrina walked into the bathroom brazenly
and stood at the shower door. She slowly pulled Dallas’s towel over
to the side, unblocking her view of his nude body. He looked at
her, stunned, while still holding his cock but no longer stroking
it. After pulling off her shirt, she removed her bra. Dallas gazed
at her breasts, licked his lips, and began slowly sliding his hand
back and forth along his length. She slipped her skirt off, then
removed her panties and sat on the edge of the tub. Katrina spread
her legs and gazed deeply into his eyes. She slowly lowered her
gaze to his throbbing cock as he rubbed the engorged head. Katrina
ran a finger from her neck, between her breasts, to her shaved
pussy and began tracing her finger on either side of her lips.
Dallas watched her closely, as his breathing became more
labored.

After dipping a finger inside of herself,
she pulled it out and brought it to her lips. Dallas’s heart raced
at the sight of her, and he pumped his cock faster. Katrina got on
her knees and crawled over to the clear shower door, keeping eye
contact with him the whole time. She let her eyes slowly travel
down his perfectly-chiseled body until they locked on his groin.
Then she put her mouth at cock level, an inch from the glass. He
pushed his penis to the glass; the head flattened a bit and
expanded as he pressed it harder against the cold door. Katrina
licked her lips. She wanted to taste him. So close and only
separated from his manhood by mere inches. Slowly, she slid the
glass door open. A hot rush of air and steam slapped her in the
face as Dallas backed up slightly.

Once he had a clear path to her mouth, he
grabbed the rail of the door and pushed his cock out into the cool
air of the bathroom. The mild sting of the cold was short-lived,
since Katrina instantly devoured him with her mouth; then she
pulled back and began running her tongue just around the head.
Arching his back, Dallas stared up at the ceiling as she took more
of him into her mouth. She savored the taste of his perfectly-clean
cock. He was rock hard as she tested her ability to take as much of
his length into her mouth as she could.

He slowly gazed down at her. She looked
beautiful, sucking him like that. Reaching up, she cupped his balls
and worked her mouth over him faster, sucking harder as she slid
out to the tip. Dallas groaned loudly—

It was actually Brian who groaned loudly,
ripping Jillian from the fantasy. Her eyes shot open and
immediately went to his cock as he continued to pump it faster and
faster. Slipping a finger under her panties, she began touching her
clitoris. Brian started rubbing just the tip of his cock and
squeezing it harder. She heard him grunt again, then watched as
thick jets of cum exploded against the glass door and began to run
down toward the shower floor.

She pushed her finger a little deeper into
her wetness as Brian continued lightly running his fingers over the
head of his cock. His abdomen, shoulder, and arm flinched with the
waves of the orgasm that pulsed through his body. He slumped
against the door, exhausted, and stroked his cock once more; he
squeezed the towel hard, pulling it down into the shower as it fell
from his grip. As he tried to prevent it from landing under the
spray of the shower he reached for it, missed it, slipped a little,
and ended up on his knees with the towel on the shower floor.

She watched as he tossed the soaked towel
into the corner of the shower, cursing and trying to ring it out.
It remained worthlessly damp. Feeling sorry for him, she considered
coming clean and casually walking a dry towel to him, but she
decided that was probably a horrible idea.

Suddenly, she was startled by a noise coming
from the hall. Sprinting from the guest room, she rushed into the
hall and closed the door. As she continued across the hallway, she
saw Rob coming up the stairs. When their eyes met, she slowed and
stared at him with a blank expression.

He asked, "So did you guys do it?"

"What?" Stopping dead in her tracks, she
awkwardly bounced up and down on her heals with her jaw falling
open.

"How is he?"

She froze, unable to speak or breathe.

He narrowed his eyes. "Tennis. Did you guys
play?"

Exhaling, she smiled. "Oh, yeah, we did
play. He's really good."

"Is something wrong?"

She narrowed her eyes in a slight panic and
then paused to compose herself. "Sorry. Your father called last
night, and I’m still, uh..." George’s call was the furthest thing
from her thoughts at that moment, but it was as good an excuse as
any to explain her strange behavior.

"Sorry about that. Are you okay?"

"I’m fine. I think, uh, Brian is in the
shower. Would you see if he needs another towel? I tried to catch
him before, but, uh..." She trailed off as she handed the towel to
Rob and headed past him down the hall.

"Sure."

"I really need a shower, myself." She walked
into her bedroom and closed the door. With her hands covering her
face, she slumped against the door; her body trembling.

Brian took a quick shower, tossed the damp
bath towel on the floor, and stepped on it, dripping wet, as he
attempted to try off with a hand towel.

Rob called to him through the
partially-opened door, "You need a towel in there?"

Startled, Brian covered up as though he were
being watched. "Rob, yeah. How’d you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I needed a towel?" Brian asked.

"My mother said you might."

After pausing to wonder if she’d been
watching him again, he blew off that ridiculous thought and reached
through the open door for the towel.

Jillian continued to lean against her door,
feeling even more horrible than when she stared at Brian's exposed
penis while he slept. What was she doing? What, exactly, was the
plan? This time she had surely invaded his privacy, and she was
sure that her actions must qualify as some kind of lesser sex
crime. Walking across the room, she stripped off her damp clothes
and stood before a full mirror, admiring the reflection of her
newly trimmed area.

As she studied her new
look, a shadow of a memory from the previous night took shape in
her head. Was Brian in her room last night? Did she show him? Did
she tell him about the other day when she saw him sleeping?
No way,
she
thought.
I must have dreamt about the show
and tell
. Sure, she had been out of it,
but she wasn’t on sodium pentathol, or anything. It was only a half
glass of wine and one Ambien.

Jillian looked at her reflection in the
mirror, still shaking from nearly being caught but also turned on
from seeing Brian do what he did. She ran her hands over her body.
Looking at her pussy in the mirror, she slid a finger over what
little hair remained. She slipped a finger into her folds again and
decided she had to finish what she already started.

After rushing to the door, she locked it and
then fell backward in bed with her hand between her thighs. She
imagined it was Brian licking her down there as she closed her eyes
and moaned softly. Lifting her ass a little off the mattress, she
slid her other hand under her body and began working her pussy from
the back, her palm gently putting pressure on her ass. George had
never touched her there, but she always wondered and often wrote
about what stimulating that area might feel like.

As she continued to rub her expanding
clitoris with her left hand, Jillian struggled to shove two fingers
into her pussy with her right. Stretching, she pushed them deep
into herself as she neared climax. She further extended her right
hand to put a tad more pressure on her tiny virgin hole, and that
sent her over the edge. She gasped when the first wave struck, then
held her breath and tightened her muscles as she lay there
completely still while a second rippled through her. Her body
convulsed after the third orgasmic pulse, and she pulled her hands
away from her pussy, slowly running them up her stomach until they
reached her breasts. Lying there with her eyes slammed shut, she
gently massaged her swollen breasts.

Minutes later in the hall, Rob and Brian
were walking past Jillian’s room. Rob turned back, approached her
door, and then knocked once. "We’re going to lunch, okay?"

Jillian had her hand
between her legs again and was trying to squeeze another orgasm
from her long-neglected pussy. She froze with her ass lifted high
off the bed when she heard Rob.
She didn’t
want to answer but instinctively she yelled back, "Oookayyy," in an
odd voice that sounded like she might be trapped under something
heavy.