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Can he tell by the way I hug him back that I want more? That I want to keep kissing him like we did earlier, but while wearing fewer clothes?
Could he feel my nipples harden where they were pressed against his firm body?
And now, can he see the neediness behind my gaze?
“Sleep tight, friend,” he says.
“You too, friend.”
I lie awake thinking of Jakob for I don’t know how long. It could be minutes, it could be hours.
All I know is I won’t be able to get to sleep if I don’t fix my little problem.
I roll over and slide open my night table drawer, pulling out my favorite toy—a soft, silicone wand in a tasteful shade of purple, with a tiny butterfly attachment.
Honestly, this vibrator looks too cute and innocent for what it is, but it gets the job done.
I check to make sure my bedroom door is all the way shut. It is, and so I wriggle out of my panties and pajama shorts and spread my legs.
Switching it on, my body reacts automatically to the low, buzzy noise. I smile. The toy is not Jakob’s fingers — or cock, or, ahem, beard — but it will suffice for now.
I slide the wand between my lips, wetting it with my essence before sliding it home, the butterfly fluttering against the tight bundle of nerves begging for relief.
Thoughts of Jakob’s rough hands on mine, his soft beard against my face and his lips covering mine fill my head. And his tongue…how I love what he does with his tongue.
Toying with myself spurs me deeper into wishful thoughts—of Jakob’s sensual lips and that soft beard rubbing against the tender flesh of my inner thighs.
Jakob is here.
My Jakob.
Who would have ever dreamed it?
10
Jakob
I stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts about Josephine.
What am I doing here? That’s easy: I invited myself, and she’s a nice person, so she obliged.
I shouldn’t have pushed myself on her like I did.
Gods, I disrupted her entire day off by making her travel two hours in each direction to meet up with me.
She fed me dinner, gave me a tour of the village, introduced me to her friends, and now I’m here, sleeping on her sofa, punching her pillow, not quite knowing where to put my legs on this tiny sofa built for gnomes.
There’s little room for me in Jo’s life. But it’s not just the sofa. The woman likes her routine. What will she do with me? Where will she fit someone like me in her life?
I’m a loner. And I’m not great at bringing in income. I can work for days creating imperfect works of art, sometimes forgetting meals. Most days, I sleep until noon. I move around a lot, always on edge if I stay in one place too long.
After I’ve mused over these thoughts for an hour or so, I decide it’s no use letting my thoughts torture me any longer, and it’s time to try to sleep. Closing my eyes, I turn to my side and adjust the pillow, bending my legs up into a fetal position.
Just then, I hear a strange noise coming from Jo’s bedroom. I sit up immediately, not sure if what I’m hearing is not an animal growling. Protectiveness surging through me, I bolt to sitting upright, listening intently.
I hear the noise again, but now it sounds like something electric. Something intentional.
A muffled sound like a feminine moan hits my ears. I heard a tamer version of that throaty noise when Josephine and I kissed and petted and…oh.
