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I flick on the monitors, and there she is—Bella, moving in her own world, unaware that I'm watching. My breath hitches every damn time.
The screen's glow washes over me, and it's like I can almost feel her skin under my fingertips. It's a compulsion I can't shake, and honestly, who the hell would want to?
"Fuck," I mutter as I lean back in my chair, my hand moving of its own accord to the zipper of my jeans. I can't pull my gaze away from her as I fist my cock. The rhythm she moves with is hypnotic, an unknowing tease. She's wearing those tight leggings again, the ones that hug her athletic curves like they're made just for her. And that ponytail swishing as she powers through another set of drills like she’s on the court—it's enough to drive any man wild.
The need builds in me, hot and urgent, as I watch her exercise in her living room on my screen.
And I give in, fully and without hesitation, stroking my cock up and down, faster and faster, fisiting the tip, imagining it’s her pussy, her mouth.
Because this private moment between screens and miles, it feels like something sacred. Just Bella and me—even if she doesn't know it.
Just as I'm about to hit the edge, my phone buzzes with a new message, cutting through the haze of my lust.
It's her. Bella. I swipe at the screen with my free hand, heart pounding in a different way now.
Hey stranger, up for round two?
Her text lights up the screen.
It’s ridiculous but seeing Bella type ‘round two’ makes me think of how she’d look freshly fucked, her lips pink, her hair tousled, as she suggests another.
And I nut. Long and so hard it makes me gasp.
I quickly clean up my stick mess and rush to give her a response.
"Round two" sounds like a promise of something more, something better.
You betcha.
Her reply comes fast.
Tonight? You pick the place?
My fingers fly across the screen.
Can't wait.
Anticipation coils in me, tight and eager. This is it. Another chance to be with her, for real this time, not just through a lens.
Me neither ??
It’s all she sends back, but it's enough to make my imagination run wild with possibilities.
Tonight, I'll see her in the flesh, feel her warmth, hear her laugh. No screens, no distance—just Bella and me, together.
The clock ticks slowly toward our date, each second stretching out longer than the last. I try to distract myself with the usual routine, but nothing works. All I can think about is Bella and the night ahead of us. The anticipation is a slow burn, a fire I'm stoking with every passing minute until I can finally see her, touch her, taste her. And when I do, I’ll make sure she knows just how much she's gotten under my skin.
"Get ready, Bella. Tonight, you're all mine." I whisper the words to the empty room, a vow spoken to the lingering image on the screen before I power everything down.
Tonight will be different.
Tonight, I'll have her without barriers, without the safety of distance, and I intend to savor every single second.
As the sun dips lower in the sky, painting the city in hues of orange and gold, my excitement builds to an almost unbearable pitch. I dress carefully, choosing a dark shirt that sets off the blue of my eyes and black jeans that fit just right. I want to look my best for Bella, to show her that I'm just as worthy of her time outside of the hospital or our heated texts.
I choose a cozy little bistro with dim lighting and a private atmosphere. It's the kind of place where conversations can linger and privacy is respected—a perfect spot for what I have in mind. I get there early, nerves jittering under my skin like static electricity. I order a bourbon, neat, and nurse it slowly while I wait.
The door swings open and there she is—Bella in all her captivating beauty. Her hair is down today, cascading in waves over her shoulders, and she’s wearing a simple yet stunning dress that clings to her like a second skin. My throat tightens at the sight of her, every detail burned into my memory: the way she smiles as she spots me, the confident stride as she walks over. She’s breathtaking.
