Chapter Seven

Later that evening, I relaxed in a hot shower, letting the jets massage my sore muscles. The steam enveloped me in a cozy embrace. I definitely need a massage...

I blushed at the thoughts of Oliver. Oliver would definitely satiate that need.

I caressed my aching breasts, rubbing my thumb across my hardened nipples, inhaling sharply as electricity shot to my core. I leaned my head back, closing my eyes, trailing my other hand down my torso, teasing myself. Fuck... I shouldn't. I really shouldn't touch myself to the thought of him.

I'm throbbing thinking of him. I sighed and gave in, cupping myself, pressing hard for friction, then slowly dragging my fingers up. I gasped as my wetness coated my fingertip, slicking it just enough to glide across my sensitive spot.

Oh, shit... I'm so wet. So fucking wet for you, Oliver.

I moaned quietly, increasing the pace as the familiar swirl of an orgasm built in my belly. Yes, yes, yes. I'm coming all over you.

My breath came in choppy spurts, my nipples hard. I clenched as I neared bliss. My face warmed, and I slipped a finger inside, pumping shamelessly. Oh fuck, yes. My pussy feels so good. I want to cum so bad.

My body shook, a warning of the intensity. My mind filled with images of Oliver's hand on my thigh. I bit my lip, and came hard. My thighs clenched, twitching as if he were inside me. Oh fuck!

My legs shook, and I grabbed the shower walls. Holy shit... that was the most powerful orgasm ever.

I took a deep breath and ran my fingers through my wet hair. I heard yelling over the shower and frowned. What the hell is that?

I checked that all the soap was gone and turned off the shower, grabbing my towel. The yelling was louder. Is someone fighting?

I opened the bathroom door and moved into the hallway, heading toward the noise. It sounds like it's coming from outside.

I opened the foyer curtains and saw Oliver's tense back as he argued with a woman. She was about Mom's age, with dark hair. I couldn't hear the conversation. I glanced at the window. Should I open it? They're yelling in public, they don't want privacy.

I slid my fingers under the window, prying it open. With all their yelling, they won't hear me.

Now I could hear them. "You're always fucking protecting them, Mom!"

I gasped, covering my mouth. That's his mother? Who's she protecting?

"You're being ridiculous! You don't want to take responsibility!"

"Are you kidding me? He put his hands on me! He was drunk!"

Oliver's mom threw her arms up. "I was there. You started it, Oliver!"

"This is bullshit! Your boyfriends never do anything wrong, right? Have a good life, I'm sick of it!"

Oliver turned toward the house. I quickly slammed the window shut, hoping he hadn't seen me. Oh shit, I hope he didn't see me.

I clutched my towel and stepped away. I heard his footsteps and glanced at the stairs. Maybe I can make it down before he sees me!

The doorknob twisted, and I sprinted for the stairs, tripping and grabbing the railing. In the stumble, I dropped my towel. Oh my fucking god!

I felt the breeze, knowing I was naked. Embarrassment froze me. Where's his snide comment?

I picked myself up and turned to face him. My breasts bounced as I took sharp breaths. My eyes went to his swollen eye and bruising. His eyes moved to my breasts, then down to my core, then back to my face. As soon as he saw my concern, his eyes narrowed, and the lust vanished.

"What do you want?"

Oh my god... did she do that to him?