Crossing The Line
I realize that I’m kneeling in front of him, and my mouth is inches away from what is unmistakably a bulge in his pants. I can tell even through his jeans that he’s huge, and I look up to see that cocky smile still plastered across his face.
Suddenly I’m imagining this situation very differently, and I feel myself get wet.
“I may be able to…help you with those,” he says, looking down towards the blankets.
I snap back into myself and pick them up. “No, that’s all right.” It’s only once I manage to stand back up that I realize what a view down my shirt I gave him. How long has he been here? Half an hour and I’m already a mess. This should be interesting.
Brad walks in behind me and I’m so so glad that he didn’t get the visual of me kneeling in front of his best friend. His hair is wet from the shower, and he pulls open a drawer. “Hey, mom,” he says, “I forgot to tell you that I totally killed the air mattress over fall break. Can Trevor sleep on the couch?”Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.
“Sure,” I say, looking anywhere but at Trevor’s body, even if I can feel him still looking at me. “I’ll set it up.”
I slip out of the room before I can make any more of a fool out of myself. You would think I’ve never seen a shirtless man before the way I was tripping myself. I need a good slap. I walk into the living room and place the blankets beside the couch. I’ll make up the couch for him after the rest of the family leaves from dinner. We might need it in the meantime.
I look up and see the french doors leading to my bedroom. The doors that are ten feet from this couch. The couch where Trevor will be sleeping. I laugh out loud, to no one, at the irony.
“Something funny?” Trevor enters the living room, now fully clothed.
“Not really,” I say, because the situations that are running through my head where both he and I are naked are the farthest thing from funny.
Another little smile is playing around his mouth, and it’s maddening. It tells me that he’s sees through me and knows too much. “Okay,” he says. “I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay. I know it was unexpected.”
I manage a smile. “Don’t mention it. Like I said, the more the merrier.”
“I also wanted to know,” he says, walking across the room, “what you’d be okay with me calling you. I’ve never been sure. Do you want me to call you Ms. Woodward?” He stops in front of me.
I’d like to tell him that he can call me whatever he damn well pleases, but I resist. “Stella is fine, Trevor.”
He doesn’t say anything, instead just looking at me. I feel like I’m rooted to the spot, and I don’t ever want to move. His eyes are beautiful up close, a pale blue-gray. My face drops to his lips, and I swear I feel him sway towards me. I clear my throat. “How long are you staying?”
“As long as you’ll let me,” he says, and I feel my breath catch. There’s a moment when I think he’s not talking about Christmas break, and my traitor heart picks up its pace at the thought. “I’ll go back to school with Brad.” I nod.
He takes a step forward and I take a step back, feeling the edge of the doorframe hit my shoulder. “About upstairs,” he says softly. “I wasn’t lying. I’m willing to help you with anything while I’m here.”
He reaches out, and his hand is on my hip. Every one of my nerves is vibrating. I look down, and I see his pants are still straining, maybe even more than before. There’s a smile in his voice but I can’t drag my eyes away from his pants, imagining what his cock would look like were it not currently trying to ruin his jeans. “I think you’d like my kind of help, Stella.”
Chills run down my arms, and he takes a step closer. I should tell him to stop, that this can’t happen, but I don’t want to do either of those things. “Trevor…” I say, and nothing comes out. I have no idea what to say, and my body wants to pull him closer, let him touch me more.
Like he’s reading my mind, the hand on my hip drifts to my belt, teasing my zipper and dipping lower. “How wet are you for me?” he asks softly, his hand inching closer to being between my legs. “What am I going to find when I touch you there?”
There may as well be no fabric between us the way the drag of his fingers is sending shivers running through me. It’s been far too long since someone touched me-even just this barest contact has me drowning in feeling. I’m not sure what he’ll find when his hand reaches me, and I hope that I haven’t soaked through my pants.
And then his fingers are between my legs and the movement sends a zing of pleasure through me. His thumb presses inward, running directly over my clit and my entire body jumps. Trevor smiles, continuing to make small circles, and my head falls back. God, this is exactly what I wanted. I’m not entirely sure that I’m not hallucinating this, but for the moment, I’m enjoying it.
He pulls his hand away, instead choosing to undo my pants. My hips press forward into his hand, more than eager for his fingers to find me without any barrier. His other hand slips up behind my neck, and suddenly I can’t look anywhere but at him-just the way he wants it. His fingers slide down my stomach and are slipping inside my underwear when the doorbell rings.