He tossed the soiled towel into the floor and planted a quick kiss to her temple before dropping back onto the bed.
“Goodnight.” He rolled over and minutes later his even breathing signified his slumber.
She stared up at the ceiling in disbelief. Did that just happen? Had Eric seriously just jerked off onto her titties and fell asleep without even glancing at her pussy? After she’d been shooting him hints all afternoon and while they were at the campfire? She turned her head and stared a hole into the back of his, willing him to sense her dissatisfaction and wake up to take care of her. A loud snore sounded and a white hot anger lit into her. She jumped out of the bed and noisily searched for something to throw over her naked body. Settling for the plain white t-shirt and boxers Eric had abandoned, she crept out of the room and closed the door silently behind her. What she wanted to do was slam the door and jolt Eric enough that he fell out of the bed. Unfortunately, it was after 2 am and she didn't want to disturb any of the other five people who occupied the beach house with her sexual frustration.
She felt her way along the dark hallway until she was sure she was in the living room. There, she switched on a light, intending to get a quick peek at the layout to prevent her stumbling over any furniture as she made her way to the sofa. When her eyes adjusted to the light she gasped and immediately switched them back off. To her surprise, the sofa had been pulled out into a bed and someone was buried under covers in the center.
There went that plan.
She silently edged around the pull-out and attempted to open the sliding door that led to the deck that rimmed the stilted dwelling. The screech of metal on metal sounded deafening in the stillness of the night and she immediately abandoned that idea. She was starting to feel trapped and that feeling made her desperate. A quick walk brought her to the kitchen where a door led to a set of stairs. She grabbed a blanket out of the storage bench near the door and slowly descended those stairs until she was standing below the beach house.
The sound of the water hitting the shore was so soothing that she didn't even register the cool breeze coming off of the water. She smiled to herself and walked until she was in between the two cars parked on the side of the house. She shook out the blanket and positioned it so she was both hidden from the shore and from anyone passing by. Although it was pitch black outside, there was a light at the bottom of the stairs that illuminated the car port and part of her blanket.
Once satisfied that no one could see her, she laid down on the blanket. Not only had Eric neglected her twenty minutes ago, he’d done so the entire time they’d been in Galveston. He had claimed that it was disrespectful to the hosts for them to have sex in the house and he’d sounded so confident that she had readily agreed with him. It wasn't until hours later, earlier this evening, when the entire group of them were gathered around the fire on the beach and playing an ill-advised game of Never Have I Ever that she realized, they were the only ones who felt that way. As everyone took shots of fruit-flavored Tequila, Eric seemed unfazed but she wanted to melt into the floorboards with embarrassment. How had everyone managed to have sex in this Galveston beach house in the two days they had been there; everyone but her and Eric? The knowledge of everyone else knockin’ boots had no bearing on Eric, he still refused to have sex. He still refused her.
That's why she found herself on a blanket underneath the house that her boyfriend slept soundly in, with a hand shoved down Eric’s boxers, furiously rubbing at her clit. She could feel her orgasm peeking over the horizon, taunting her with its proximity, before falling back out of reach. She decided to switch tactics, using the other hand in hopes that the foreign feel might make a difference. It didn't. She couldn't get her left hand to gather enough speed to propel her into that special place. Frustrated, once again, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to have a tantrum filled moment. She kicked her bare feet and slammed her fists against the blanket as a sob clawed out of her throat.
“Need some help with that?”
Her eyes popped open to see Eric’s brother, Silas, standing over her. His large frame blocked the light from the door so she could barely see his face to determine if he was teasing her. To be safe, she didn't answer, just looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes. She was too frustrated to be embarrassed. So what if he caught her having a tantrum like a five-year-old? He didn't know what caused it and that's all that mattered. She watched as he stepped over her and stood on the other end of the blanket.
With the light once again illuminating part of the blanket, she noted that he was shirtless and wore only a pair of mesh basketball shorts. She glanced down to see he was as barefoot as she was. Her mouth went dry. It was no secret that Silas was beautiful. He was a chiseled 6’2 god wrapped in flawless golden brown skin. With a neatly kept full beard and gorgeous chocolate brown orbs, she would have to be blind not to notice. Eric, who she initially thought was the most handsome man she had ever met, paled in comparison. Not for the first time that weekend did she silently acknowledge how lucky the woman he’d brought with him on this trip, his girlfriend, Diana, was.
While she had been deep in thought, she didn't notice Silas fall to his knees in front of her. It wasn't until his hands clasped her knees did she blink her way back to the present. She sat up quickly and bent her knees, pulling them toward her and out of his grasp.
“Uh, what are you doing, Silas?”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Offering my assistance.”
Her brows furrowed in confusion but only a beat passed before she understood his meaning. Her hands flew up to her face.
“Oh my god! I'm so embarrassed! I woke you up!” Her moans, as she pathetically tried to get off, must have drifted upstairs. That must have been him sleeping on the sofa bed. If earlier hadn't been bad enough, now this. How could she ever show her face around Silas again? She blamed Eric. If he had just given her the lovemaking that she had been asking for then she wouldn't be here, outside, getting laughed at by his older brother.
Silas’ hands once again gripped her legs, this time pulling her knees apart. “Tahiry.” He spoke her name with a clipped, forceful tone. She stopped talking immediately. He squeezed her knee in approval. “Let me help you out.”
What she should have done was jerk away from him and run upstairs into the arms of his brother. She should have politely declined his offer with a “thanks but no thanks” and bid him goodnight. Hell, she even should have scoffed at the notion of needing help and went upstairs. What she shouldn't have done and of course, did, was bite her lip, nod, and let her legs fall open. Her frustration had taken the wheel and that elusive orgasm was just around the bend.
Almost immediately Silas descended upon her. She fell back onto her elbows and watched him with wide-eyed wonder. He didn't even pull off her shorts, instead, he moved the loose material at the crotch aside and bent down to run his tongue up her slit. Her head fell back between her shoulder blades as she moaned.
“I knew you’d taste good.” His declaration was a low murmur, surely intended for only himself but she heard it and perked up.
He’d thought about her? When? She’d only met him once before this weekend and he was here with Diana.
Soon, she wasn't able to think of anything but the way he made her feel as her orgasm not only peeked from around the corner but jumped in front of her and started dancing a jig.
Silas locked his lips over her clit and sucked hard. She ran her hands over his head and had nothing to grab a hold to so she latched onto his ears and moaned into the night. When she came down she released him, chest heaving and mind spinning.
What had she done? What just happened?