Silence can never be bought

Cargo

The hotel shampoo and body wash smell like Joel after his shower, which makes you want to take the bottles with you. After your bath, you lounge on your bed in a towel, air-drying, finishing the movie, and replaying the night in your mind. Mainly how hot Joel looked between your legs. You also dwell on the fact that he wouldn't really kiss you. Apparently, he won't sleep in the same bed with you either. It hurts. Like, it's physically painful.

You go across the suite to Joel's room for a shirt to sleep in. His door is cracked open and there's a green flannel folded on top of his luggage. It's not weather-appropriate and you wonder if he brought it for you. He's tucked in, already asleep on his stomach with his shirt off, a massive arm sticking out over the white comforter and another under his pillow. You drop your towel to put the shirt on – leisurely, hoping he wakes up to the tempting sight – but he's already sleeping soundly. You've never seen his face so relaxed, but his brow is still somewhat furrowed.

You sit down on his bed to fasten a couple of buttons. He doesn't wake up. The irony doesn't escape you that you're watching him sleep when he's supposed to be the creep. Why doesn't he try to fuck you, you wonder. His words to Chad echo in your mind: If she told her father, you wouldn't be breathing. But that's obviously different, you think. That was about someone breaking your heart and physically intimidating you.

-

The hotel bed is tightly made, with the comforter tucked under the mattress on the side Joel isn't using. You wonder if you could slip inside without waking him up. You move the pillows out of the way, then slowly, inch by inch, wedge yourself under the sheets. When you're almost settled, he stirs. He blinks a few times, squints at you, then sighs, "Trouble . . ." He moves one of his pillows and hugs it, effectively putting something between you. It stings. You try to sleep but you end up sniffling.

He hears you and wakes up again. "C'mere, damnit," he half-whispers, half-asleep. His gruff bedroom whisper makes you wet. He lifts up his arm but doesn't turn on his side or move the pillow. You rotate the pillow slightly and rest your head on it with his arm over your chest. You drift off sooner than you expect.

-

At some point in your sleep, you roll over facing away from him. You wake up in the fetal position with Joel's arm draped over you. Joel has turned onto his side, too. Your upper back is just barely against his chest. You scoot your lower body backwards to spoon with him, and your naked ass meets the tip of his cock. Arousal shoots through you like a bolt of lightning. It's the first time you've actually had contact with it. You didn't even realize he was naked.

At the first contact, his hips instinctively press his cock up against you, sending all the blood in your body to your core. You stifle a moan, not stopping to wonder why you don't want to wake him up. You carefully maneuver your ass to nestle his cock between your thighs. He thrusts in his sleep, gliding firm and wet against your folds, reaching your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

You unbutton your shirt then nudge his hand into it. His hand twitches and so does his cock. It pulls back a little and the tip is right at your entrance. Your hips tilt, nestling it there, the top curve of the head resting just inside without truly breaching you. You could sink onto him right now. It would be so easy. But you want him to do it himself.

You're absolutely throbbing, aching for him. He pulls back again with a sigh, then his hard tip bypasses your tight, dripping hole and glides to your clit again and you softly moan. You adjust your chest, wanting the movement of your breast to prompt his hand to cup around it. But instead of cupping your breast, his hand drifts up your chest. Then, it wraps loosely around your throat.