Charlie supposed it was possible for something to be more awkward than this, but nothing was coming to mind.<\/p>\n
It was bad enough that he’d been standing here in the second-floor loo in his mother’s house biting his lip and running his thumb over his cockhead to smear wetness down and enjoy it as his hand moved faster and faster. Well! He couldn’t do it in his room; he was sharing with Bill in Bill’s last night as a bachelor.<\/p>\n
It was worse that he’d been letting himself contemplate, while he tried not to groan, the really completely inappropriate thoughts that had run though his head at supper, while he was watching his youngest brother’s girlfriend–well. Sort-of girlfriend, he gathered, but the exact parameters seemed rather unclear. Still, even if she wasn’t technically his brother’s girl, she was seventeen, and he was twenty-five and that made him completely not a gentleman, he was sure, especially since the inappropriate thoughts had included a fairly thorough exploration of the likely appearance and taste of the areas of skin concealed by her shirt.<\/p>\n
And skirt.<\/p>\n
So all that was bad, but this was worse yet. The door, which he’d left standing shut but unlatched out of desperation to get to it already, had opened too unexpectedly for him to make any pretense he was doing anything other than what he was.<\/p>\n
And it was, in fact, the object of his fantasy.<\/p>\n
Wearing a thin nightdress that had lacy straps which in fact confirmed at least part of his theorizing.<\/p>\n
Which was, according to his cock, no reason whatsoever to do the decent thing and blush and cover himself and \u2026something other than grunt and keep fucking his hand as she stared.<\/p>\n
It wasn’t entirely his fault; she was definitely watching with interest, not horror, but still, he really shouldn\u2019t be wanking over her while she watched without her knowing it was<\/em> about her, except there was really no graceful way to explain at this time.<\/p>\n “Um. Sorry,” she finally stammered, clearing her throat before she backed out and pulling the door with her.<\/p>\n He couldn’t help it. Her voice was slightly rough, hoarse, as though she’d been\u2026 oh fuck.<\/em> As though she’d been recently using her mouth and throat in ways that probably clarified her position in regards to Ron. “I’m not,” he blurted, horrified at not to be able to stop it.<\/p>\n She froze. “\u2026What?”<\/p>\n There she went, hoarse again, and staring, and that was the end of that. He came, messily, utterly failing to hold a towel out or anything. He let his head fall forward and brought up his free hand to brace on the wall as he stood, panting. “\u2026Nothing.”<\/p>\n “Right.”<\/p>\n He turned his head to look at her, finally now having the appropriate blushing response. “I should, um. I should clean up. Sorry to, uh.”<\/p>\n She lifted a brow. “Thought you weren’t.” She pulled the door the rest of the way closed and left him standing there wondering what had been going through her mind.<\/p>\n And cursing under his breath, because damn if that wasn’t even sexier than thinking about her skin.<\/p>\n\n\n