Chapter 100: Pervert
Chapter 19 - Pervert
Jude
I jolted awake, a low gasp catching in my throat as a sudden heat shot straight down my spine as my body was still thrumming from the aftershocks of the dream I’d been having, but as my eyes blinked open against the dim morning light, I realized I was in bed. And right beside was Rosie’s hand casually resting against the front of my boxers.
I stilled, barely able to breathe because my morning wood was out of control—hard, erect, and straining painfully against the fabric of my shorts. I looked down at her. She was still fast asleep, oblivious to the torture she was putting me through.
Fuck! Moving away slowly, I carefully looped my fingers around her wrist and detached her hand from my side, and I gently lifted her head off my chest, noticing a tiny stray line of drool she’d left on my skin.
It was cute, but Christ, I was about to lose my mind.
I groaned softly under my breath, feeling the desire throb between my legs. Ever since that kiss at the gala, my sleep had been plagued by her, every single night, my mind made up vivid, intoxicating dreams of Rosie teasing me, pulling me close, taking us all the way.
I rubbed my face, trying to get my ragged breathing under control. "Fuck," I cursed. Carefully sliding out from under the duvet, making sure to pull the blankets all the way up to her chin to keep her warm. As I did, my eyes caught where her nightwear had shifted, leaving her left breast partially exposed. I cleared my throat tightly, looking away instantly.
Standing up, I realized my boxers were already damp from the aftermath of the dream, yet I was still rock hard. I walked into the bathroom, stripping out of the ruined underwear while grumbling curses under my breath. I was a grown-fucking-adult athlete, not some pubescent teenager getting his first kiss, yet here I was, completely undone by a single woman.
"Fuck," I muttered, stepping under the shower and turning the handle to cold.
The freezing water cascaded down my hair and over my chest, but the cold barely did anything to tame my erection. I planted both hands firmly against the bathroom tiles, leaning my head against the wall as the water sprayed over me. I forced my hands to stay where they were. I wasn’t going to touch myself. I refused to relieve the tension by using her memory; I wanted the real thing, and I was going to wait for it.
I looked down, catching a glimpse of myself. The crown of my cock was leaking slightly, and a self-deprecating chuckle escaped my lips. The damn thing clearly had a mind of its own.
"Pervert," I muttered to myself.
The word resonated in the bathroom, and the word took me in time , four years ago when I saw her again. Our second encounter.
I had been sitting in the backseat of the car, staring aimlessly out the window, when a sudden glimpse of a girl on the sidewalk made my heart stop. There was no way I wouldn’t recognize her even after three years apart, her face was permanently etched into my mind. She was wearing a simple skirt and shirt, her brown hair pulled up into a messy bun, and she was carrying a sleeping girl in her arms.
"Stop the car," I had barked at the driver.
Before the car could even come to a complete halt, I threw the door open and sprinted down the crowded sidewalk after her. I watched her board a public bus, and without a thought, I lunged through the closing doors behind her, tapping my card against the scanner.
I managed to find a spot just three people away from where she was standing, her little baby held tightly in her arms. I couldn’t do anything but stare because I was awestruck. She looked exactly the same, yet different—more mature. For three long years, I had searched for her and even my mother had told me that if fate permitted, we would meet again, but I had been terrified I’d forget her face. To keep her alive, I had filled countless pages of my sketchbook, drawing her from every single angle, capturing the shade of her striking blue eyes.
I had wanted so desperately to step closer, to talk to her, but fear kept me glued to the seat. Would she even remember me? My fingers tightened around the worn cotton handkerchief resting in my pocket—the one she had used to wipe my face in the rain. I carried it everywhere and anywhere hoping for a moment just like this.
When the bus pulled up to a stop, she stepped off, and I immediately followed, pushing through the exiting commuters. My heart was beating erratically against my ribs. How do I call her name? What should I say? I opened my mouth, but my brain short-circuited and no sound came out.
Suddenly, Rosie wheeled around as panic flared in my chest. I didn’t want her to think I was stalking her. And I abruptly tried to turn on my heel to look away, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst right out of my chest. But it was too late. Because she marched straight up to me. Just as I raised my hand, opening my mouth to offer a polite greeting— , a stinging slap collided with my cheek.
I staggered back in shock, my jaw dropping as I instinctively cupped my face while I blinked at her in confusion.
"Pervert!" she yelled, her eyes flashing with disgust and irritation.
"P-Pervert?" I stuttered, my voice cracking.
"Don’t think I didn’t feel you pressing against me on that crowded bus!" she snapped, crossing her arms protectively over the child. "And then you have the nerve to follow me off the bus?!"
My mouth fell open. She thought I was the one who had bumped into her on the packed bus as I desperately wanted to explain the misunderstanding. To tell her who I actually was, she shot me a glare and the words in my throat.
"If you ever follow me again, I will beat you blue and call the police. Don’t even try me..." she trailed off. "I have a black belt in Taekwondo," she threatened before turning on her heel and walking away.
I had stood there on the busy sidewalk for a long time, slowly rubbing my stinging cheek, before a loud laugh burst from my chest. God, I had missed her. I closed my eyes, inhaling the faint, lingering scent she’d left behind in the air. It was the same shampoo or perfume or whatever from years ago—the same scent the handkerchief had in earlier days.
A clicking sound pulled me abruptly out of the memory as the bathroom door swung open. Thanks to the frosted glass of the shower, I watched as Rosie stumbled in, still dazed with sleep, as she let out a yawn, stretching her arms high above her head, before her eyes adjusted and landed on my silhouette through the glass.
Her eyes widened in shock as her cheeks immediately reddened. "Oh my god! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were in here!" she shrieked, spinning around so fast that she tripped over her feet before slamming the bathroom door shut behind her.
I stood under the cold water, as a rumbling chuckle vibrated in my chest, and I looked down, noticing my erection die down. I turned off the valve, squeezing the excess water from my hair. I really couldn’t wait for her to finally catch up to my feelings. The kiss at the gala had been unexpected, but it was permanently engraved into my mind and I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to taste her properly.
A sudden heat flared in my stomach again, and I shook my head as the motherfucking thing threatened to wake right back up. "No way," I muttered.
I quickly stepped out of the stall, wrapped a towel firmly around my waist, and walked out into the bedroom.
***
And this is their second encounter, my boy is so down bad for Rosie.
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