Chapter Seven – Arrg.. Piss off, Brock!!!

The room is OK. Not the fanciest, but you didn’t expect him to put you in the Presidential Suite either. You lie down on the bed. Not the softest bed you’ve slept in, but at least he won’t be there.

«You can play with your little toy… all you want tonight»

Screw him. What is he thinking? That because you have a toy, you’re like a nympho? He probably finds himself a new girl every weekend. That will be fucking fun to witness, once you get to New York. What the fuck is wrong with you, YN? You HATE him. You. Don’t. Want. Him! You don’t.

You are yanked out of your line of thoughts when your phone rings. It’s Jack. Probably wondering where you are.

– Hi, sis! Killed each other yet?

– Not yet. But I’m holding on by a thread.

You sit up in the bed. You’ll so get back at Jack for this.

– If I didn’t know any better I’d say you two kinda liked each other.

– It’s a good thing you know better then, isn’t it?

You sound angrier than you originally intended to.

– Oh, come on, sis. Learn to take a joke!

– I’m hanging up, Jack!

You move your phone from your ear, ready to hang up.

– Hey, sis. What is the deal with him? Why do you have this hostility towards him?

You take a breath and move your phone back to your ear.

– Nothing. He is a self-righteous, arrogant, stupid, obnoxious womanizer. I hate him!

Well, you’re not exactly sure if he is a womanizer. But you can take a guess.

– Woah, YN! You barley know him! Where did this come from?

– From his appearance, Jack. He has the social IQ of a five year old. And he thinks he’s God’s gift to the women of the world. And YOU put me in a car with him!

Jack takes a breath.

– Calm down, YN! Go have a drink or something. You’ll be in New York in no time.

– Bye, Jack…

You hang up. Womanizer… Maybe he.. No, YN. You’re too young, and you’re Jacks little sister. That would never happen. God, why are you even thinking about this. You DO NOT want him. You do not!

«Want me to try it on you»

Shit! You feel it just by listening to his voice inside your head. Fuck! Take a cold shower, YN. Shake it off..

The shower does not help. It might have made it worse. You sit down on the bed, with a towel around you. Look at your suitcase. It’s like the magic wand screams your name. Use me! You need it! Release!

Your hands shaking, when you reach for it. Might as well give it a try. Maybe this is what you need to get him out of your head. How would he use it on you? Go all in from the very first second? Probably not. He’d drag it out. Watch you as you squirm, aching for more. What is his preferences? Blond, brunette? Skinny? Shaved? Dominant? You swallow. Dominant Brock! You can feel your wetness only by thinking of it.

You lie down on the bed on top of the towel. Let your hands glide from your neck, and down your body. Your nipples already peaking. Could be because of the temperature change after the shower.. Oh, who are you kidding? It’s because of him. Or because you think of him.

You can’t hold back anymore. You let your hand glide over you. Two fingers pushing you apart, then glide over your clit. Fuck you’re wet. This is not going to take long. You reach for the magic wand. Turn it on, and carefully touch yourself with it. Fuuuuck!

It’s like you can see him, sitting beside you on your bed, using it on you. Holding it in place until you start to squirm, and then taking it away. Although you’re alone, it’s not like you’re the one holding it. Your movements following the fantasy. Taking it away when you’re closing in. You arch your back. His imaginary hand pushing you back down on the bed. As the wand touches you once more. «Feels good, doesn’t it?»

– Yes! Fuck…

You have to. You can’t hold it anymore. Pushing the wand down on your clit. Upping the pace on it. Your toes curling. Closing your eyes. Seeing his intense eyes, looking into yours as he awaits your screams of pleasure. Then you explode. Your whole body is shaking. It’s like your hand, holding the wand is stuck in place. Keeping it going. It’s so intense, it almost hurts. Fuuuuuuuck!

When you finally manage to let go of the wand. Your whole body goes into some form of relaxing state. You just lie there in the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Breathing. Shit! You fantasised about him. About him doing these things to you. God, how embarrassing! Now you won’t even be able to look at him. Shit!

There’s a knock on your door. You quickly get the towel back around your body.

– What are you doing, sweetheart?

God! It’s bad enough that you fantasised about him. And now he keeps calling you sweetheart.

– Shut up, Brock!

– You want a drink?

You get up, and walk over to the door, open it. He’s standing there outside. Casually leaning against the doorframe. Looking at you, with that look that he gives. Strong, silent type look.

– What do you want, Brock?

He looks you up and down. The towel covering only what it’s supposed to, like a really small dress. His eyes stops at your cleavage. You don’t know if it’s intentional or not. If this is his way of messing with you. You’re annoyed. If he really likes what he sees… You don’t know.

– What. Do. You. Want?

He clears his throat, looks up at you again.

– Want a drink? I.. I was going to get one. But you might want to take that shower first.

– I already took a shower, Brock!

He looks at you again, studying your face. Then he gives you a teasing smile.

– Do you have company?

He looks over your shoulder, into your room. Then he smirks.

– Forget the drink, YN! I’ll leave you to it.

That fucking smirk pisses you off.

– Arrg.. Piss off, Brock!!!

You slam the door shut. His smirk so big you can almost see it through the door. Stupid ass!

You stomp your feet to the floor, when you turn away from the door. Then you see it, lying there on your bed… The magic wand.. That’s what he saw.. That’s the reason for his smirk..

Oh, fuck!