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Chapter 9 by jordan_strange jordan_strange

I needed to

Get some privacy

I stood. Everyone looked at me, “Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

I walked to the kitchen, then, realizing there was no privacy there, continued on to the bathroom. The line was a few people long, but it only took a couple minutes for me to make it in. I dropped my shorts and sat. My mind swirled with images. My body writhing beneath his. I remembered the screams of the girl that night.

Come on.

I put a finger to my pussy. Just a touch and it’s like someone set off firecrackers in my brain. It came away wet and glistening.

See?

I finished peeing, not that I really had to anyway, and stepped outside. Jack was loitering in the kitchen.

“You’re good?”

“Yes, fine, absolutely fine,” I placed a hand on his arm. I liked the feel of him: steady. “I just–I don’t do parties often. I think I got a bit of sensory overload.”

He nodded, “Do you want to sit in my bedroom?”

Not a hint of suggestion in his voice. He had no idea the effect he was having on me.

“Yes. Please. I think that’d be wonderful.”

He led me into his room. I slipped off my flannel and tossed it aside as I crashed onto the bed, heart trying to pound its way out of my ribcage.

“I can leave you–”

“No, stay, please, for a little while.”

“Sure,” he sat at my feet. If he had a problem with my Doc Martens on his bed, he didn’t say anything, just enjoyed the silence, taking occasional sips from his beer.

I wanted him to look at me, see my exposed underbelly, and notice the hint of breasts at the edge of my crop top. I needed him to touch me.

Nothing’s going to happen unless…

I grabbed my boots and untied them carefully. “These are killing me,” I said, trying so, so hard to act normal. I set them under the bed and, scooting forward, put my legs in his lap as I laid back down.

Jack put a hand on my leg as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I hid a smile. The feel of his skin on mine, real contact, sent my heartbeat into overdrive. I wanted more.

“Sorry to take you away from the party,” I said. Was the strain in my voice as obvious as it felt?

His eyes found mine, “I’d rather be here anyway.”

Fuck.

What did I do?

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