Chapter 17: Eyes on Me: Part 1 – Chapter 16

Mia The storm clouds start rolling in on our way down the trail, and we’re both getting soaked on the last ten minutes of the hike. Garrett offers me practically every piece of clothing on his body, but I laugh at him as we run back to the lake house.

“This is the only time you’ll catch me running,” I joke as we jog back. He looks down at me and gives me that disarmingly bright smile that makes my heart skip a beat and my insides turn to goo.

When we reach the deck, running under cover, we stand there catching our breaths—me more than him. He barely even looks winded while I’m gasping for air, and probably looking like a wet, sunburnt potato. I can’t tell if our parents are back yet, since they park in the garage, but Garrett doesn’t seem to care because he latches an arm around my waist and drags me toward him.

“What are you doing?” I gasp, looking around to see if anyone is nearby.

“You’re cute when you’re all wet.”

I try to shove him away, wanting to fix my hair. “Am not! Stop it!”

He laughs, nuzzling his face in my neck and running his warm tongue along my jawline, picking up the wet drops of rain from my skin. Warmth pools in my panties at the soft friction of his tongue.

“What are you doing to me?” I whisper as I melt in his arms.

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to.”

“Someone could see us.”

“I think that’s the point,” he replies, jokingly. His hands run all over my body like he can’t get enough of the contact between us. Like his hands could literally devour me.

What was in that blow job?

Garrett seems unraveled, acting different than before. Yesterday it was all…let’s play with each other and have some voyeur/exhibitionist fun, but now he’s treating me like more than someone to play with.

And as hot as the idea of being seen is, I really can’t let my dad see me out here getting groped by my much older stepbrother.

With that thought, I pull away, peeling Garrett off my body is almost painful, but I manage to slide away from him. “I’m going to take a shower…”

“Can I come?” he asks with a devious grin.

I groan, really wanting to say yes. “We have to be careful, Garrett.”

“Is that a yes?”

It shouldn’t be. I should say no right now. But God…the thought of him naked in that tiny shower with me, rivulets of water running down those abs and through his chest hair…yes, please.

“Maybe we should check to see if our parents are home first,” I reply, backing up until I hit the front door. He reaches around me, finding the door handle and turning it open with only inches between us.

“Hey, Mom?” he yells once it’s open. When he’s answered only by the silence he must have expected, he takes my lips in a hungry, bruising kiss. I yelp into his mouth as he lifts me into his arms, as if I weigh nothing…which I do .

My legs wrap around his waist, and our lips don’t part as he stumbles up the stairs, my body clutching to him for dear life. I’m shocked and painfully aroused by the time he reaches the top floor, and we crash into the bathroom together, slamming the door behind us.

Then we’re tearing our clothes off in a rush. My mind is reeling. Is this it? Is he finally about to do what I’ve wanted him to do for almost five years? The thing he denied me a couple days ago. I’m ready. I’m so fucking ready—but in the shower? Is that even a good place to do it? God, I have so much to learn.

I’m suddenly struck speechless by the sight of him, naked standing in front of me. And there I am, naked in front of him. And we’re both sort of hypnotized by this all of a sudden.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he mumbles quietly as he reaches into the shower and flips the handle on.

“I was thinking the same thing,” I reply. And then our bodies are pressed together, and he’s kissing me as he drags me into the shower. The water is too hot at first, but he turns it down. His hands roam down from my face to my neck and then to my breasts, which he squeezes and pinches and then kisses, filling me with warm sparks of excitement and what feels like…pride. My body turns him on.

Then his touch drifts lower until he’s lightly massaging my clit and making my legs almost useless. I’m a warm pile of pleasure as he slides his finger between my folds. My arms clutch his neck for support while he touches me.

“Mia,” he whispers against my mouth.

“Yes?”

“Put your hands on me.”

Oh. I was so distracted by him touching that I forgot to touch him. So I eagerly wrap my hand around his cock, and he jolts from the pressure. Slick with the water from the shower, I stroke him, squeezing the head.

He pulls away from our kiss and looks down at my hand, his mouth hanging open as he watches with a lust-filled expression.

“Slower,” he mutters.

So I ease up my pace, squeezing the head slightly on every upstroke. He bites his lip while his eyes stare intently on the motion of my hand.

“Atta girl,” he whispers, and I let out a sweet moan of pleasure. He’s still touching me, but just the sound of his voice in that sultry tone turns me on.

“Are we still playing?” I whisper into his kiss.

“Yes. Why? Not having fun?”

“I am…” I reply in a breathless murmur when he curls his finger inside me, finding a spot completely new to me.

When his finger leaves my heat, I open my eyes and stare at him in confusion. Then, I watch him reach for the showerhead—the same one I used on myself the other day. And I already know where this is going when he takes my hand and places the showerhead there.

“Show me how you use this, baby.”

My breath hitches. Goosebumps erupt all over my body, even in the heat of the shower with the spray still pelting my skin.

I’ve never felt more sexual or more alive in my entire life. I do this almost every day. I let men watch me, but when it’s Garrett’s eyes on me, it’s different. It’s like they were always there, always meant to stay there. So natural that I feel stranger when he’s not looking at me than when he is. He’s not another person in the room…he’s more of an extension of So with our eyes locked, I move the warm spray down my body until the heat pummels my most sensitive spot. My stomach contracts and my spine curls as the breath forces itself out of my body.

Leaning against the shower wall, I stare back at him, bringing myself closer to climax. His hand is wrapped around his cock, and he’s stroking it the same way I just was. But our eyes don’t leave each other’s. I can see him jacking himself in the periphery of my vision, but it’s the look in his eyes I want. I want his most vulnerable, private expressions. I want to see into his soul.

I’m so lost in the intensity of our eye contact that I’m practically side-swiped by the sudden onslaught of my orgasm knocking the wind right out of me. My muscles tighten and I cry out, grabbing onto Garrett for support as I’m knocked down over and over by the sensation.

When I open my eyes, I watch the white jets of his cum disappear into the spray of water. He grabs me and crashes our bodies together, kissing me hard. The showerhead is hanging in my hand as I latch onto him, needing his touch, his kiss, his nearness.

When we finally come up for air, I use the showerhead in my hand to clean us both off, and we laugh a bit. Then we wash ourselves up, gentle smiles on our faces, stealing kisses every moment we can. And it really has me wondering how bad this is going to hurt when the week ends.

I bite my lip, staring down at the screen. It feels almost wrong now to still be talking to Drake when there’s clearly something going on with Garrett, but Garrett and I are just playing. He made that very clear. And since tomorrow is the last day at the lake house, there are still so many unanswered questions between us. What happens after this week?

There’s no response for a moment, and I start to worry that I shouldn’t be telling him this stuff about my real life. This is way too real for a conversation with a client, but Drake isn’t really one of my clients anymore. We’ve told each other really personal stuff that I don’t normally share with other guys.

“Who are you talking to?” Garrett’s voice makes me jolt as he leans over my shoulder, staring at my phone. I quickly pull it to my chest to hide the chat box with Drake because I don’t know how Garrett would react to me talking to Drake the way I do.

Of course, I don’t know what Garrett and I are, so I should probably figure that out first. After the hike, he seemed different. A little less like the jerk who toys with me and more like a man who…actually likes me. It threw me off.

I think it threw him off too. He’s been weird ever since.

“None of your business!” I snap, swatting at him to get him out of my space. He’s laughing as he heads to the fridge to pull a bottle of water off the top shelf.

“Is that your little camgirl app?”

I spin toward him. “You calling it a is super condescending and offensive. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” he replies before taking a swig. “I just like ruffling your feathers.” He sends me a wink. Then he pulls his own phone out of his pocket, and I turn around to get back to my conversation with Drake.

I bite my lip again, trying to hide the smile on my face, so Garrett doesn’t start teasing me again.

My cheeks redden, and I turn around to see Garrett focused on his phone, a blank expression on his face, so I quickly type out my reply.

Butterflies dance through my belly as I imagine him there. But the more I try to imagine Drake, my mind keeps picturing that moment with Garrett in the kitchen, his mouth against my sex, a mixture of warm and cold making me crazy as he brought me to climax.

What would I do if Drake walked through that door right now? Would I find myself moving toward him? Or toward Garrett? It feels impossible to choose, so I guess it’s a good thing that will never happen.

My mouth twists into a knot. The next words I type out are daring and crazy, and I can’t believe I’m saying this.

I know I should probably tell him at some point that I’m a virgin, but what if he reacts like Garrett did? What if he doesn’t want me? Again, I start to feel bad about talking to another guy on the same day I’ve fucked around with Garrett, but again…Garrett will never commit to me, so why should I commit to him?

Drake’s response is disappointing.

I choose not to explore that further. If it is truly complicated, I don’t think I want to know why. I’ve got my own layers of complications to deal with. Speaking of, I turn around and glance at Garrett, still standing there, drinking his water and scrolling through his phone. His eyes lift when he feels me watching and our gazes meet for a moment.

“Do you like it?” he asks suddenly, and I’m caught off guard. For some reason, I feel like he’s caught me talking to Drake, but I know that’s not the case.

Squinting my eyes at him, I ask, “Like what?”

“Your job,” he replies, nodding toward my phone. “Doing whatever it is you do for the people online? Do you like it?”

It’s strange talking to him like this. Garrett was always the last person I would open up to about my work, but after everything we’ve done with each other this week, I don’t feel so strange about it now.

“Sometimes,” I respond.

“And you’d never meet any of these men in real life, right?”

“Of course not,” I reply without hesitation. How did he know we were just talking about this? “Also…why do you care? Are you jealous?”

“No. I just worry about you.”

The response is so sincere it makes me pause. Then I think about the conversation I had with Laura yesterday, how Garrett has always tried to protect me, and how I never knew. I feel something warm in my chest at the idea that I’ve meant more to Garrett than I ever realized.

“No, I promise. I never meet up with clients. I protect myself.”

“Good. And it’s genuinely what you want to do, right? Not something you feel like you have to do?”

I swallow the lump building in my throat. A question I don’t really know how to answer. The shame surrounding being a sex worker is probably the hardest part of my job. The way society makes me feel like I have to hide it or be ashamed of it, as if taking this job is any worse than taking one at the gas station or library. Work is work. To be able to say I don’t dislike my job is more than most people can say.

“Does it bother you? Knowing what I do?” I ask.

He walks over, pocketing his phone before he plants his hands around me on the table, leaning in close, and my heart rate starts to pick up.

“Someday a man will come along who won’t like what you do. He’ll want you to himself because he thinks you’re nothing more than a body he can control, and it will be because he’s insecure. A real man knows that truly possessing someone is a privilege, and it’s not their body you’ll own. It’s so much more. I want you to know the difference, Mia.”

I can’t breathe as I stare into his eyes, the space between us tense and electric, ready to blow at any moment. But when I expect him to lean in and place a kiss against my lips, he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls away and starts to walk toward the stairs that lead to the basement.

“Which one are you?” I ask.

He pauses and turns back toward me. “I’m still working on it,” he replies, just before disappearing down the stairs.