Page 56 of Blue Line

I go into the living room, and it gets louder. My eyes widen as I stride down the hallway, following the noise to where it’s coming from—Hadley’s room.

What the—oh?

Shit.

Is that?

I stare at her door like I suddenly have X-ray vision and can see what’s going on in there. I imagine she’s lying in bed naked, her toy between her legs, making herself feel good.

My cock is instantly hard.

I should walk away. Go back to my bedroom. Give her privacy.

But I don’t, not when I swear I hear her moan my name.

“Hadley,” I rasp out, tapping on the door.

The buzzing stops.

“What, Weston?” she says, her voice breathy.

“Can I come in?”

The warning lights start going off in my head; this is a bad idea, but I ignore them. I know I’m thinking with my cock right now, but I can’t help it. If she says no, I’ll walk away, go to my room, and forget this happened.

“Yes.”

My heart skips a beat at that one word. Before I can analyze what this means for our relationship, I open the door and walk in. The lamp on the nightstand is on, bathing the room in soft light.

The sight of Hadley lying on the bed, the sheet barely covering her, her face flushed, and her chest heaving, takes my breath away. Her left hand clutches the sheet to her chest, and her other hand is hidden under the covers, probably holding the vibrator.

“Did you need something, Weston Daniel?” she asks, her gaze roaming over my body, and I know the minute she notices my hard cock pushing against my shorts because her face flushes even more.

I clear my throat. “I was in the kitchen getting a drink of water when I heard a vibrating sound. I thought it was an appliance or the TV at first. But nope. Turns out it was coming from your room, Hadley Jane. Do you know anything about that?”

She peers up at me for a beat before letting out a bark of laughter.

She shifts, causing the sheet to drop lower so I can see the thin straps of her shirt. “I’ve been on edge tonight. Needed to dull the ache since a shower earlier didn’t help. Figured you’d be asleep already.”

“Do you want help?”

“I got it,” she whispers after a beat. “But do you want to watch? You know, in case I require assistance.”

“I—” I swallow, my throat feeling parched.

Is she really asking me to watch her masturbate?

Am I into that?

I don’t know. I’ve never watched anyone pleasure themselves or had anyone watch me.

“I’ve never done it either,” she whispers, as if sensing why I’m hesitating.

“Y-yes,” I finally manage to say.

She tips her chin to the chair that’s in the corner across from the bed, currently holding a pile of laundry. I walk over to it, scoop up the clothes, and deposit them on the ground. Hope they were dirty. If not, I will happily wash them for her. With the chair cleared, I take a seat.

She pushes the sheet down to reveal her half-naked body. From my spot, I’ve got the perfect view of her pretty pink pussy. I have to pinch my lips together to keep myself from whimpering. I want to touch her. Be the one to make her feel good. Feel her pussy clench around my fingers while I bring her to orgasm. But that’s not what’s happening right now. This is her show. I’m here to watch. Until she tells me otherwise. Gripping the armrest, I take a few deep breaths.