Room for One More Pt. 02

Hello All! I've decided going forward, I won't impart my intentions or thoughts on you before reading the story, so you can evaluate it for however you see it. Well... after this one anyway. I'll limit those elsewhere.

As for this piece, just a fair warning, it will spend a lot of time in the two main characters' heads while I flesh them out some more, to give understanding to who they are. After this, my intention is to limit that, and start to increase plot line, and moving the setting beyond their apartment. The next part does this a tiny bit, but will increase with time and plot. I've started mapping out the next few chapters, but need the time to write.

I hope you enjoy, and for those that read the first part in this series, with the title ending as "Chapter 1", I've replaced that with "Part 2" instead because I was mortified by the sloppy editing I apparently did on it. I've upped the ante on a few bits, but it's the same story, so by no means do you need to read it, if you read the original. I will delete the original once the revised version has had a chance for people to become aware of it.

Thanks for reading what comes out of my brain and "listening" to my rant!

Chapter 15

It was barely past sunrise when Natalie drug herself into the kitchen, mug in hand and her robe belted loosely at her waist. The apartment was dim and quiet, streaked with beams of sunlight from the rising sun as it filtered through slatted blinds. She stood still for a moment, letting the warmth of the cup rest in her palms, though she hadn't taken more than a sip. The coffee had gone lukewarm, but she couldn't find the motivation to reheat it.

Across the apartment, Lisa moved with her usual bounce, dragging a small rolling suitcase behind her, the phone wedged between shoulder and cheek as she hummed along to some distant, hold music. She looked like someone in the middle of a layover, not someone saying goodbye with her phone and her suitcase. Her voice was too chipper, with too much energy for this early in the morning for Natalie. She was always full of motion, always on. It didn't help that Natalie had barely slept.

A door creaked open down the hall, a moment after Lisa had knocked once and called through with mock urgency, "Get your butt out here and give your mother a goodbye kiss!"

Aiden appeared, barefoot and rumpled, with his sweatpants low on his hips and a faded college tee clinging to one shoulder where it had twisted in his sleep. He blinked against the light, rubbing at his face as he shuffled into the room, still half-asleep. The faint line of hair that traced down his abdomen caught Natalie's eye. It was only a smidge peeking out below the twisted t-shirt, dark, narrow, disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweats and she looked before she could stop herself.

Lisa clicked off her call and the never-ending hold music she was listening to and turned, brightening as she looked at her son. "Be good, okay? And don't give Nat a hard time. She's doing us both a favor."

Aiden muttered, "Yeah, I know. I won't," his voice was still thick with sleep.

Lisa stepped in and gave him a quick, familiar mom style kiss on the lips, ruffling a hand through his messy hair.

Aiden blinked, suddenly more awake than he'd been a second ago. Her mouth. On his.

There was no trace of it now, just the soft sheen of her usual lipstick, and the faint taste of mint toothpaste lingering where her lips had touched. But all he could think about was how that kiss might've tasted last night, lips still swollen from their activities, coated with Natalie's fluids.

No. This was his mom. He pushed the thought away, swallowing hard until he could force a small smile as Lisa turned to Natalie.

Natalie watched the exchange with a smile, but her stomach tightened. There was nothing unusual in the kiss, nothing off. And yet, she remembered. The sound of Lisa's voice in the dark. The feel of her hand. The things she'd whispered that Natalie had let happen and she'd wanted.

It was a kiss goodbye, but her body remembered where those lips had been before they landed on her son.

Rolling her eyes at Natalie, with exaggerated exasperation, Lisa remained unaware of the thoughts around her. "You're a saint for this. Truly. One of these days I'll find a way to repay you."

Natalie smirked, still nursing her mug. "Maybe just don't send me any more college boys."

Lisa grinned. "No promises. With him here, there may be more around than you bargained for." She wheeled her suitcase toward the front door, then glanced back over her shoulder. "Take care of my little boy, okay?"

Aiden groaned. "Mom! Jesus. I'm twenty."

Lisa just smiled. "You'll always be my baby."

He shook his head and turned away, disappearing towards his bedroom with a mumbled, "Whatever. I'm going back to sleep." Before the door closed, two more quick words came out. "Love you!"

As soon as his footsteps faded, Lisa stepped in close, drawing Natalie into a warm, unexpectedly tight hug. Natalie's breath caught, with a faint gasp of surprise, as Lisa's arms crushed her gently against her. Just as Natalie finally started to pull away, Lisa's hand slid lower, tracing the curve of her spine before settling firmly on her ass, holding her flush against her body.

Then, not giving Natalie a chance to react, Lisa leaned up and kissed her. It was a firm, direct press of lips, no opening, no tongues, just a firm kiss, accompanied by a teasing nip at Natalie's full bottom lip that sent a shiver through her.

"Thanks for last night," Lisa murmured in a low purr, and her face still pressed against Natalie's. She had a wide, genuine smile spreading across her features. Then, pulling back just enough to look in each other's eyes more easily, a wicked smirk played on her lips as she added, "Maybe one day you'll be sweet enough to introduce me to the guy that caused you to need to buy that toy."

Natalie flushed instantly, a small, flustered sound catching in her throat. "Mmm, I don't know if he's earned that yet," she murmured, not quite smiling or saying no either.

Lisa grinned, gave one last firm squeeze of Natalie's supple ass paired with a low, playful growl and then turned for the door. Her suitcase wheels clicked across the tile at the entry way to the apartment, as it trailed behind her.

The door closed shut behind her, and just like that, the apartment fell into silence again.

She set her mug down, Lisa's voice still echoing in her head, Take care of my little boy.

It had been an offhand comment, intended for teasing, but the words stuck. Her little boy.

Natalie almost smiled at the phrase, except... Aiden wasn't little.

But he was twenty. Still so young in her mind, still close enough to younger that Lisa said it without irony. And yet the woman he lived with now wasn't his mother's age. Not even close.

She pulled in a breath and told herself to let it go. Still, it felt strange having someone that age under her roof. The last time she'd lived with a guy in his twenties, she'd been in her twenties too. Back then it made sense, but now... now, it felt oddly out of place as well as unexpected. Lisa had implied there might be others, his friends, more noise. He was used to dorm life, which came with shared spaces and constant activity.

Aiden wasn't a teenager, but he also wasn't someone she would've imagined sharing a hallway with at this point in her life. College felt like another life altogether. She'd been married for part of it. Even then she was settled and focused on becoming someone else entirely. Filled with dreams of her career.

Now here she was, ten years later, divorced, rebuilding... and a twenty-year-old was about to start leaving dishes in her sink.

She let out a quiet breath and turned toward the sink. The wine glasses from the night before were still there, along with Lisa's scent lingering faintly in the bathroom. A pink hair tie sat forgotten on the bathroom counter. The bed was rumpled. Everything already seemed affected by the mother, and the son she left behind, in what has been her home alone for almost the last year.

She walked past Aiden's closed door on her way to the laundry room, paused, and considered knocking, but what would she say? Instead, she kept walking, remembering he said he was going back to bed. She opened her bedroom door and shut it quietly behind her.

This apartment had been her space. Her reset. Her quiet, post-divorce calm. And now? Now it came with a twenty-year-old living across the hall. Lisa's little boy living in her grown woman's life.

Chapter 16

Natalie got dressed, before leaving her room a couple hours later. She wore what she usually did when she didn't plan on leaving the apartment: a soft cropped tank and loose joggers slung low on her hips, with her hair tied up in a knot she'd probably re-do three times before noon. She was even wearing a bra which was something she hadn't bothered with on a day she didn't plan on leaving the house, in years. Not since early in her marriage.

The apartment had always been her refuge of quiet mornings, music, and her mess and no one else's. No one to notice when she walked around unshaven or let the laundry sit a little too long.

No one to notice if she didn't wear a bra.

But now there were going to be footsteps in the hallway outside her bedroom. A new towel on the rack. The sound of the second bedroom door in the mornings, and a bathroom schedule would clearly be needed.

It wasn't that this was all bad, just different and would take some adjusting.

She was sipping her second cup of coffee at the kitchen island when Aiden stumbled in, still shaking off sleep. He was barefoot, hair tousled, and wearing a worn T-shirt that appeared as though he must've just thrown it on for the sake of coming out, as it was different than he was wearing earlier. He didn't say anything, just rubbed at his face, yawned, and reached for the cereal like he'd lived here for months.

Natalie watched as he shook out the box into a bowl, followed by clink of the spoon as he tossed it in. The fridge door swinging open and shut as he got some milk.

He sat nearby at the table, scrolling on his phone while he ate, one knee pulled up loosely under the chair. They didn't speak. The silence had an awkward feel for her, in her own home. She knew it was just two people figuring out how to share the same space, but it was a new dynamic. She figured he was probably scrolling through his social media, the way most twenty-year-olds did first thing in the morning. He still looked tired as he sat there.

She wondered if this was just how he was in the mornings, quiet, half-present, eyes on his phone like a drug he needed to fully wake up. Or maybe it was the new space, in new home, with new routines. Then again, maybe he just hadn't slept well.

She didn't know him well enough to tell yet.

That thought struck her more than it should have. He was living in her apartment now, eating in her kitchen, showering in her bathroom, and she still didn't know if he was the kind of person who needed three alarms or just didn't sleep much.

Was this version of him the baseline? Or just a placeholder while he adjusted? She glanced down into her coffee, swirling what was left at the bottom. It was strange having someone in such close proximity but knowing so little about them in the quiet moments. Her husband was the only person outside of family she'd lived with before and they clearly knew each other before living together.

Across from her, Aiden was still scrolling through his phone, but he wasn't really looking at anything. His thumb just kept moving. Every so often, he'd look up like he might say something. But he never did.

He didn't know what he was supposed to say, especially not after last night. He hadn't meant to listen. At least not at first.

It was just muffled sounds through the wall, low and indistinct, that was all. But then he heard more. The creak of the bed, a sharp gasp, then came their voices, followed by their moans. That was when it hit him. His mom wasn't just sleeping in her bed. There was more to their relationship that he never knew. Hell, he never knew his mom liked girls.

He had sat in bed staring at the ceiling, then the wall, completely still, not breathing.

He hadn't known about them. About that.

How long had it been going on? Was it something that was new? Had it been going on before Natalie's divorce? Were they in a relationship he didn't know about?

He didn't have answers and before last night he didn't even have the questions. Now he couldn't get the sounds out of his head. Natalie's moans. Lisa's name. Breathless words that still echoed, please, don't stop... right there, just like that...

And then there was him. By the end of the night, he had his hand on himself, working faster than he wanted to admit, turned on by the fact that it was real. Not porn or a fantasy, but his mom and the woman that had already and unknowingly provided material for the spank bank for years, in the next room, completely unaware of him.

It had been wrong and he knew it, but it was also the hardest he'd ever cum in his life. Now he was here, sitting across from her, trying not to let any of that show.

Natalie looked calm. She was focused on her coffee like it was just another morning. No sign that she knew he'd heard anything. But he knew things about her now and that changed everything. Because now he lived with her.

She wasn't just Mom's friend anymore; the pretty one who used to intimidate him when he was younger. Or who always seemed to busy, to even notice him. Now, she wasn't even married.

Now she was Natalie who moaned like that. The one who made Mom moan. The one he shared a hallway with. A kitchen. A bathroom.

And no matter how normal she looked across the counter now, he couldn't unhear what he'd heard. Or forget what it felt like lying in the dark, hand on his cock, listening to that Natalie just a few feet away.

Natalie took another sip of her coffee, then set the mug down gently.

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked, looking over and breaking the ice. "I know the first night in a new place can be... weird."

Aiden looked up, surprised she'd spoken. "Yeah. I mean, kind of." He scratched the back of one of his arms. There was no itch, just a nervous response as he tried to ease into the conversation. "Took me a while to fall asleep. Still getting used to the bed."

She nodded. "Makes sense. If there's anything you need, or if you can't find something, just let me know. I tried to make room, but the storage situation in that bathroom is kind of a joke."

That earned the faintest smile from him. "No, it's fine. I just shoved my stuff under the sink for now. I didn't want to, like, take over your drawers or anything."

"You wouldn't be taking over," she said lightly. "You live here now. I made sure to give you some space in there."

The words slipped out easily, but even she noticed the way it all landed. Hearing it aloud shifted something by acknowledging the arrangement. That this wasn't just temporary couch surfing. He was living here now.

Aiden nodded slowly. "Still feels kind of surreal."

"Yeah," she said, chuckling softly. "For me too."

Seconds passed before she leaned her elbow on the counter and tilted her head. "Do you need anything today? Groceries, laundry detergent, anything like that?"

He shook his head. "I think I'm good. I brought most of my stuff. Mom stocked me up before she left." His lips twitched slightly. "She also made me take two boxes of protein bars I didn't ask for."

Natalie smiled. "That sounds about right. She was always big on those as a quick snack."

The exchange settled something in the air. The silence didn't feel loaded anymore. Joking about his mom brought a sense of something familiar. For the first time since he'd walked into the kitchen, Aiden didn't feel like he was tiptoeing.

He sat more upright in his stool and let himself look at her, really look at her, without the soundtrack of last night playing on loop in his head. It helped. The talking helped.

Aiden sat quietly, with one hand still wrapped loosely around his cereal bowl, the other resting on the table, having finally forgotten the phone where it sat on the counter. His posture had loosened too, but his attention stayed on her as Natalie gave him a glance, then looked back into her mug.

"You know," she said, with a smile, "Lisa told me something funny the other day."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, looking up.

"She said you used to get all quiet when I was around. Back when I'd come over to your guys' house. Said you were intimidated by me, or something."

Aiden gave a short, awkward laugh and looked back at his phone, avoiding eye contact. "I mean... I was young. I didn't really know you," he tried to play it off.

Natalie smiled. "Well, I hope you're not still intimidated. If we're going to be living together, we've got to figure this out. So if you need anything, if something's off, whatever, don't hesitate to speak up."

"Right," he said. "Same goes for me, though. If I'm bothering you, or throwing off your routine or anything... just say so."

She looked at him, then gave a slow nod. "I will, but you're not. It'll be an adjustment, sure, but it doesn't have to be a bad one."

The quiet that followed wasn't tense this time. It was actually kind of comfortable, neutral at a minimum.

They went through the rest of the morning without much conversation, but something had definitely shifted, bringing more calm and a little less second-guessing.

Chapter 17

Aiden finished rearranging the last of his clothes and a few random electronics, finding a practical way to use the space. All in all, it was more than he had in the dorm, so he wasn't mad about any of it. He asked where she kept extra towels, and she pointed to the linen closet, telling him to ignore the top shelf unless he wanted to knock over a basket of tampons. He'd shot it a furtive look causing her to roll her eyes and tell him welcome to living with a woman with only one bathroom.

Around lunchtime, Natalie offered him the leftovers from a roasted chicken she'd made before his arrival. He reheated some and joined her at the small dining table, both of them half-leaning into their meals, casually talking between bites.

It was easy, in a way she hadn't expected, and the company during meals was surprisingly welcome. She told him about the neighbor who vacuumed every night at ten. He told her about the professor who only wore cargo shorts and once held a three-hour lecture with barbecue sauce on his shirt. The kind of small talk that didn't mean much, but still built something between them.

It wasn't bad having someone around. She hadn't realized how quiet her life had become until there was someone else in it, laughing under his breath, filling the sink with a second coffee mug, leaving the bathroom mirror slightly fogged from a too-hot shower. It brought back memories of married life when marriage was still good.

Still, there were awkward moments too. Like brushing past each other in the hallway when neither of them seemed sure who should move first. Or realizing she could hear the bass from his music. Walking into the kitchen after a workout, only to remember she wasn't alone halfway through tugging off her sports bra under her tank top.

He'd looked up that time and immediately looked away as his cheeks turned pink. He pretended to check the stove, even though it was off and she'd turned her back, hiding the blush crossing her face. They didn't talk about it, but it made her smile for some random reason at the awkwardness surfacing once more.

That was the weird thing. How fast you could go from strangers to something closer and still not know the rules, bringing on the feeling of strangers once more.

He rinsed his plate after lunch. She offered him space in the fridge for his own stuff. He said thanks for when he were to buy groceries, and tried not to wonder if she noticed how often he still checked her out when she wasn't looking.

She noticed, but she didn't say anything either.

It started with the remote.

Aiden had been sprawled on the couch and his long legs were half-draped over the armrest. There was some bright, fast-talking anime flickering on the screen. Natalie walked in mid-episode, eyeing the vividly colored chaos as she passed behind him on her way to the kitchen. She didn't say anything at first, but he could feel her judgement from the hallway.

By the time she reappeared with a glass of wine in hand, he was halfway through a bag of chips and two-thirds through the episode. She hovered by the back of the couch a moment longer reading the screen, narrowing her eyes at the exaggerated expressions and heaving cartoon breasts.

"Is this what college kids like now?" she asked.

He grinned without looking away. "It's a classic."

"A classic what?" she said, rounding the arm of the couch, sinking slowly into the opposite corner.

"Story arc. World-building. Themes!"

"Mmm." Her eyes lingered on a female character with gravity-defying cleavage and a suspicious lack of waist. "I see."

Aiden glanced sideways at her, catching the faintest smirk tugging at her wine glass. "There's a plot, you know."

"I'm sure," she said, settling back into the cushion. "Somewhere under all the physics-defying jugs."

He laughed, and it rolled out easily. There was nothing flirtatious about it, but her choice of words made him more aware of how close their knees were now.

And maybe more than that, the way she'd said "jugs." Just... offhandedly, clearly meaning nothing, but it was the first time she'd referenced anything remotely sexual around him, even casually.

His eyes flicked to her jugs before he could stop himself. It was just a glance. A single, guilty flick, yet in that moment he took in so many minor details. The cotton of her T-shirt was soft, worn in from too many washes, and even though she was curled slightly away from him, he could still make out the shape beneath. Her prominent breasts were natural and full.

He looked back at the screen quickly, hoping she didn't notice.

She didn't get up immediately at the end of the episode. They sat through the credits, Natalie sipping slowly, and Aiden finishing off the chips. Neither of them spoke or moved right away. She finally got up before the next episode started and went back to her room.

The next night, she was already on the couch when he came out of the bathroom after a shower. He was wearing a tank top with wide armholes that exposed the lean lines of his torso whenever he moved. He made a comment about her taste in detective dramas.

She shrugged without looking over. "Some people like bubble-breasted anime girls who trip over nothing and moan about it. Some people like emotionally repressed British men solving murders in cardigans."

He grinned as he flopped into the other end of the couch. "It's called cultural nuance."

She scoffed. "Sure it is."

"You've got a type," he commented

She didn't deny it.

By the third night, they weren't sitting squeezed into the corners anymore. They didn't get close, never that, but it was closer. Close enough that when they both reached for the remote and their fingers brushed, both of them pulled away too quickly. There was a small giggle from her, and a muttered "Sorry," from him. It took a few seconds before she finally reached for the remote again. This time he stayed still, letting her chose what to put on.

Aiden started noticing a pattern in her shows and how many of the male leads were brooding, understated, and quietly intense in a way. Natalie, in turn, picked up on how many of the female characters in his anime wore thigh-highs, had shiny lips, and tiny skirts that fluttered dramatically at even the suggestion of a breeze.

She didn't say anything about that, either. But the next time she walked into the room, Aiden offered her the remote without being asked. She accepted it with a nod, settled beside him, and didn't change it right away.

They were still figuring out the rules. Or still pretending there were any, even though they hadn't set any.

The bathroom was another challenge to be worked on. It started with toothpaste. Natalie opened the bathroom door one morning to find Aiden already inside, shirtless, brushing his teeth over the sink with his eyes half-closed and earbuds in. She paused in the doorway, one hand on the knob, still clutching her robe.

He looked up, startled, then pulled one earbud free. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were--"

"It's fine," she said, stepping back. "I'll wait."

"You don't have to."

Later that day, she wrote his name on the dry-erase calendar she kept on the fridge--AIDEN 7:00-7:30 BATHROOM?--with a half-smiling face beneath it. He added NATALIE 7:30-WHENEVER in his slanted handwriting the next morning.

It wasn't a really a rule, but it helped break the tension around it and it did help set some framework.

Still, boundaries blurred easily in a small apartment. Natalie would find herself waiting at the door while he shaved, or walking past just as he stepped out with a towel sitting dangerously low around his hips. Once, she rounded the corner with a mug of coffee and caught him mid-yawn, one hand in his hair, the other holding deodorant, while his towel looked ready to fall off.

"Morning," he said, bare-chested and unbothered. For him it felt like living with his mom and was just another morning.

She blinked once, said "Morning," and disappeared down the hall. For her it was foreign territory of a younger, good-looking man wandering around her home, nearly exposing himself to her.

It wasn't intentional on his part and she knew that. It was just the casual comfort of someone who'd spent the last two years living in dorms where privacy meant putting in your buds and pretending the people around you didn't exist.

But she noticed things now. The way his back muscles moved when he leaned over the sink. The sharp V of his waist above the towel. The little scar near his shoulder blade she didn't remember from when he was younger.

It made her start locking the bathroom door more often when she was inside. And once, when she got out of the shower and realized her robe was still in her room, she wrapped the towel a little tighter. Waited a little longer before stepping into the hall, listening for footsteps.

She was grateful, then, for the rhythm they'd already fallen into. For the way her routine tended to trail his. He was up early, brushing his teeth in his towel, then disappearing into his room with earbuds in while she was still deciding between coffee and concealer as the bigger priority at the moment.

It meant that by the time she was stepping out of the steam, cheeks flushed and skin still damp, he was usually dressed, distracted and somewhere else in the apartment. Or, if she was lucky, already gone, giving her space to reclaim her home in peace.

Still, she looked both ways before opening the door that morning. Cinching her towel tightly at her chest, toes curling against the hard floor, as she peeked outside.

No one there. Just the soft murmur of music playing faintly from his room. She walked quickly, realizing that her heart was racing for no good reason.

She'd made it without seeing him. But even as she shut the door behind her, she couldn't help but imagine, just for a moment, what would've happened if he'd come out of his room at the wrong time. Or, arguably for him, the right time. If he'd seen her like this.

Another day, Natalie stepped into her bedroom, arms full of laundry, and stopped short when her eyes landed on the nightstand.

The small vibrator was still there. Angled awkwardly next to her reading lamp like it belonged. She must've left it out after using it the night before, simply forgotten, casual as can be. It was her go-to choice for a quick release when she didn't have much time.

It was her room and her nightstand, though. Where else should it be, or why should she care? But she didn't always close the door. Sometimes she didn't think to, like now, when she'd stepped out to gather laundry and left it hanging halfway open behind her. And now, standing in the doorway, everything felt all too obvious.

What if he'd walked past? What if he'd seen it?

The thought landed fast and hot in her stomach, not quite shame, not quite a thrill. She moved quickly, and picked it up by the base feeling suddenly self-conscious at the fact of it sitting out, and knowing she hadn't even wiped it off after finishing with it. Her palm still tingled at the origin of her thoughts of using it earlier this morning.

She walked to her dresser and pulled open the top drawer, nudging aside a folded lace bra and a few pairs of panties. The back of the drawer was already a small gallery of indulgence--sleek silicone, smooth plastic, soft pink, deep purple, curved shapes, veiny replicas, and quiet motors tucked beneath clingy camisoles and satin night slips. A few were rechargeable, some still had batteries. Some had no electronics and they all varied in size, shape, and purpose.

She'd never thought much of it before. They were hers. Private. Part of her single life, just like her routines of moisturizer or yoga.

But now she was tucking the newest one beneath a pile of her most intimate lingerie like it might let her secrets go free in the wild.

She didn't like feeling the need to hide them. Didn't like the added step of having to cross the room when the mood hit her in bed. It was a small thing, stupid, really, but it chipped away at something she hadn't realized she'd grown used to: the ease of being fully alone.

The drawer closed with a soft, almost guilty push.

It's fine, she told herself. He wouldn't go looking. He's not that kind of guy. Right?

But as she turned back toward the bed, she glanced at the door where it stood still cracked open and made a mental note to start closing it. Just in case.

She stood there for a long moment, hand still resting on the drawer, and tried not to imagine what she'd do or say if he had seen it.

Worse... he most likely hadn't... but a part of her kinda wanted him to?

The thought struck hard, lighting something low in her belly. It still wasn't quite arousal, nor shame, but she felt a heat nonetheless.

She shook her head, turned away, and grabbed the laundry basket. The rest of the day passed without much to mark it. She did a load of dishes. Sorted through work emails. Unloaded the dishwasher, listening to the soft clink of glasses filling the unusually quiet apartment considering the new ambient level that seemed to exist since he'd moved in.

Aiden walked into the kitchen partway through, grabbed a snack, and mumbled a quick "Hey."

She answered without looking up, but the moment he turned away, she suddenly became aware of what she was wearing. It was a simple pair of soft shorts, no bra under her tank top, and her skin still warm and flushed from doing chores and working up a sweat. There wasn't anything overtly indecent about it, but suddenly felt... exposed, in a way she hadn't thought to care about before him moving in. The thought that she neglected to put on a bra as old habits surfaced, remaindering her to take more care.

Later, as she passed the hallway mirror, she caught her reflection. Hair up, the fabric of her shirt bunching at the dip of her waist. She smoothed it down thinking of him coming out and seeing her, then kept walking.

Chapter 18

Having heard the TV come on, Aiden stepped out of his room, stretching one arm overhead and glancing toward the flickering light of the TV. Natalie stood nearby, still in her work pants but barefoot now. She looked like she must've just walked in the door and hadn't even had a chance to get comfortable yet before turning it on.

"You watching something?" he asked, nodding toward the screen.

"Not really," she said, brushing a loose hair off her forehead. "I was just throwing something on and thinking about what to make for dinner."

"Cool," he said, edging toward the kitchen. "And? What's for dinner?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm not your mom. I have no idea what you're having," She said with a playful tone. "You've survived this long without me making your dinner."

He gave her a mock-wounded look. "Wow. Cold."

"I'm just saying--when your mom left, you were the one that said you're not a kid anymore."

He shifted his stance a little uneasily, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. "Yeah, well... I never said I could cook."

She turned toward the kitchen, opening a cabinet. "So, you were just gonna hope something appeared?"

"Honestly? That was kind of the plan."

She shook her head, amused. "You're pathetic."

"But hungry," he added with a helpless shrug. "And pathetic. And giving you my best starving puppy dog eyes right now."

He widened his gaze in exaggerated innocence, dropping his head slightly like he was looking for sympathy, and a plate. He could only hold it so long before a smile started to creep in.

Natalie didn't bite. She just crossed her arms and stared him down, unimpressed.

"Don't weaponize the dimples," she said. "It won't work."

He grinned. "You noticed the dimples?"

"Please," she said, grabbing a box of pasta off a shelf and held it up. "You want in or not?"

His eyebrows lifted. "You're inviting me now?"

"I'm inviting you to stir," she said, tossing the box onto the counter. "And maybe learn something."

He grinned, stepping closer. "So, this is like a lesson?"

"Call it survival training."

"Do I get a certificate at the end?"

"If you manage not to burn the kitchen down," she said, grabbing a pan, "we'll talk." She continued moving about the kitchen, grabbing what she needed. "You gonna stand there or actually be useful?" she asked, opening the pantry door.

"I'm here to learn," he said, holding up his hands. "Teach me, oh wise one."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Start by grabbing a pot. Big one."

He crossed to the cabinet and crouched to pull one out. "This one?"

"Unless you're planning to make pasta one noodle at a time--yes, that's the big one."

He set it on the stove with a clang after filling it with water. "You're bossy when you're hungry."

"I'm just enjoying the novelty of telling a twenty-year-old what to do," she said, moving to the fridge.

Aiden grinned as he turned on the tap. "Glad I could help you live the dream."

"You joke, but it's weirdly satisfying."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You've got a little power complex going."

She smiled without looking at him. "Oh, definitely."

She slid the vegetables onto the cutting board and glanced sideways. "I'll give you credit, you follow instructions surprisingly well. It's kinda cute."

"Careful," he said, reaching for the spoon. "You start throwing compliments around and I'll think it's a date and expect dessert."

"You're lucky I'm letting you eat."

"Harsh."

Honest," she said, nudging him aside gently with her hip as she turned the burner on. "Seriously, are you just watching while I do everything?"

He leaned on the counter and smirked. "That's kind of my thing. You just told me I'm gonna stir."

"Not tonight it's not," she said, pulling a second cutting board from the drawer and sliding it in front of him. "You're on zucchini."

He eyed the vegetable with theatrical skepticism. "It's weird. Even spelled weird."

"It's a vegetable, you'll live."

She handed him a knife. "Cut the ends off. Then slice it into coins... like that." She demonstrated on hers with quick and practiced movements.

Aiden mirrored her, cautious at first, tongue poking out just slightly in concentration.

"Not bad," she said, glancing sideways. "You've held a knife before."

"Usually it's to open Amazon boxes."

She snorted and returned to her own chopping, except this time it was an onion, the blade tapping rhythmically against the wood as she tried to finish it quickly before it made her eyes water too much.

"Watch your fingers," she told him without looking as he worked the zucchini.

"I'm watching them. They're terrified."

"Good. Keep them that way."

A few minutes passed with nothing but the sound of slicing and the low simmer of oil in the pan. Side by side, they moved in uneven tandem. Her pace was instinctive from years of cooking, his was careful having never sliced a vegetable in his life.

She caught herself watching him out of the corner of her eye. Watching the way he focused and followed her lead without further complaint. And just like that, an uninvited thought quietly crept in.

If her ex had ever stood beside her like this, cutting vegetables, even asking questions, just... showing up, maybe her marriage would've felt different. Maybe she wouldn't have always felt alone.

She pushed the thought away, dropping her eyes back to the cutting board. This wasn't that. He wasn't her husband and this wasn't her marriage. This was her new life, and he was her roommate. She laughed to herself at the notion of a roommate, still adjusting to the reality of it.

But she liked the way the silence felt between them. She liked the sound of him learning next to her. And, maybe most of all, she liked that he hadn't made a joke of it. He just kept cutting carefully, seemingly present in the moment.

When the water finally started to boil, she nodded toward the stove. "Okay. Now you can throw in the pasta and stir. Slowly. Just enough to keep it from sticking." It unintentionally came out in her tone a little like she was barking orders.

He gave a mock salute. "Stirring. I've trained my whole life for this."

"Mmhm."

She stepped back, wiping her hands on a paper towel as he stirred. Everything was where it needed to be. The heat on low, sauce thickening, pasta softening. It didn't need her for a few minutes.

"I'm gonna go change," she said, already pulling at her top, realizing she was still hadn't gotten out of her work clothes. "These clothes are suffocating."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, eyes on the pot like he was guarding a perimeter.

She paused in the doorway. "Try not to let anything explode while I'm gone."

"Mission parameters understood."

"And don't touch the heat."

He straightened a little, still stirring. "Touching heat: prohibited."

She raised an eyebrow. "You done?"

"For now," he said, fighting back a grin.

Her lips twitched. "Carry on, soldier."

"Godspeed, ma'am."

Her footsteps faded down the hall before the sound of her was lost behind her door.

Beyond it, Aiden couldn't hear anything. Not over the soft bubbling from the stove, the occasional hiss of sauce along the edge of the pan. He gave the pasta a slow stir, nudging it down into a rolling boil. Checking the sauce, he lowered the heat just a little, like he'd seen her do. Gave it one more stir to keep it from cooking to the bottom.

He was focused. And maybe a little too proud of himself for how not-burned everything still was.

Chapter 19

In her room, Natalie peeled off her blouse and tossed it into the hamper. Her slacks followed, pooling quietly on the floor. She hadn't worn underwear, as she so often didn't. The fabric had been light, and the lines too easy to show. She had a boy in school that always picked on her, saying he could see her underwear and it left her always feeling insecure if someone could actually see them or not. The top had a built-in shelf bra, enough for the office but not exactly comfortable for around the house.

She stood for a moment in the center of the room, completely bare beneath the ceiling fan light, absently rubbing at a faint red seam from her waistband on her hip.

Then she crossed to her dresser, pulling open the top drawer. Cotton bralettes. Folded underwear. Some of it plain, some of it lace she loved, but hardly had an excuse to wear. She reached toward the back, fingers brushing something smooth and hard beneath a camisole. Naturally it was one of the toys she kept tucked under everything else.

She ignored the flicker of awareness it brought, curling her hand around a pink bralette that was soft, with a scooped front and wide straps. Something comfortable.

She chose a pair of drawstring shorts and a loose tank top, the kind she'd bought for summer weekends and barely got around to wearing.

After slipping them on, she caught her reflection in the mirror above the dresser. Understated, but cute.

She checked the fit again for how the tank fell over the bralette, how the shorts sat on her hips, making sure there was nothing clingy or revealing. Just soft fabric and bare legs and a neckline that didn't show too much.

Still, she gave a little tug at the hem to stretch it a little, just in case. She was about to stand next to Aiden again. Close enough to stir the same pot, meaning it was certainly close enough for a boy to notice things.

She walked back down the hallway, the smell of garlic and tomato meeting her halfway there. The stove was still quietly bubbling when she stepped into the kitchen, steam rising from the pot, a low sizzle from the pan beside it.

She glanced at the knobs.

"You touched the heat," she said, mock accusation as she stepped in.

"I panicked," he replied, lifting the spoon like a shield. "It started bubbling too loud."

She bumped his hip with hers once more as she leaned over and turned the dial up a notch. "And what did I say about touching the heat?"

He held up a finger. "That it was strictly forbidden. But in my defense--"

"There is no defense."

"In my defense," he continued, undeterred, "I'm pretty sure my mom used to burn garlic on purpose."

She turned just enough to raise a brow at him. "That's... a cry for help."

"I mean, she's gotten better. Now she just buys the kind in the jar. Assuming that's better, anyway."

She made a face. "Tell her I'm disappointed."

"I think she'd like that," he said, his stirring slower now, with more confidence. "I swear, she thrives on judgment. It fuels her inner fire," he said laughing.

Natalie shook her head and picked up the other spoon, giving the sauce a careful sweep off the bottom of the pan.

"You did okay," she said.

He grinned. "You sound shocked."

"I'm always shocked by you."

"Still counts. I'll take it."

She stirred for a few moments in silence, watching the sauce thicken. Aiden leaned a hip against the counter beside her, arms crossed, watching her work like it was more interesting than it probably was.

"You always cook like this?" he asked.

She glanced at him sideways. "Like what?"

"Actually making an effort. Using real ingredients. Actual vegetables. You know, ambitious."

She snorted. "This is not ambitious. This is 'what's left in the fridge plus a box of pasta.'"

He nodded thoughtfully. "Still more effort than I've ever made. Or mom has made in a long time, when it comes to cooking."

"That's because you're twenty, and she's... Lisa" she said smiling and reaching to test a noodle from the pot. "Your idea of cooking is probably heating up a burrito and calling it rustic."

"Only if I plate it with chips," he deadpanned.

She laughed under her breath again before moving to grab two bowls. "Grab the strainer?"

"On it," he said, stepping toward the cupboard as she reached for the sauce.

The pot was heavier than she expected, and bubbling close to the rim. She turned, needing to carry it across the small kitchen to the counter behind him where she'd already laid out a trivet.

"Coming through," she warned softly.

He backed up to give her room and bumped into the island behind him. Reflexively, one hand reached out and landed on her hip to steady her as she passed.

Her breath caught at the feel of his palm resting on bare skin where her tank top had ridden up along her side. Its warmth was unmistakable.

It had slipped up without her noticing, caught at the narrowest part of her waist, where her body curved inward before flaring gently at the hips and ribs. That dip had always made shirts bunch there, cinch tighter than they were meant to. She tugged them down out of habit, but hadn't this time, distracted and unaware as they cooked.

Aiden didn't mean to notice, but his hand had landed on that gentle curve, and for a split second, he thought about the way some of the girls in his anime shows were drawn with their exaggerated hips, cartoonish, sporting legs too long to be real.

Natalie didn't look like that, exactly, however, she was soft in ways they weren't. Her hips were pronounced and womanly. More developed than most of the girls he knew at school.

She was real in a way that made him forget the comparison entirely. And she had always been the comparison, even if he hadn't admitted it until now. Her curves weren't cartoonish, but they were more exaggerated than most, and impossible not to notice.

He let go as she took her next step, but the shape of her stayed in his palm longer than it had any right to. The kitchen was narrow causing her to brush against him as she passed. There was no ignoring that her shorts were loose, and the curve of her backside grazed the top of his thigh as she moved across his front. It was light contact, soft enough and clearly accidental, but it was also low enough to make him briefly freeze. In that moment, he could feel himself start to swell against his pants shift before she cleared him entirely. Thankful it should be to subtle for her to notice at least.

She set the pot down on the waiting potholder. He exhaled, as the tension started to leave him. She didn't look back as she reached for the spoon again from its holder near the stove.

"Pasta's ready," she said, like nothing had happened.

"Yeah," he replied, voice a little rougher than before. "Looks good."

They moved through the next few motions of draining, plating, and sprinkling cheese. But something had changed which neither of them acknowledged. Nor did they likely want to.

They carried their bowls to the table, settling into the same chairs they always did, diagonally across from each other, close enough, unseparated, yet far enough not to crowd each other.

For a few minutes, neither said anything. Aiden glanced up once and caught her doing the same. Their eyes met for half a second before looking away again.

She looked back at her bowl.

"Good?" she asked casually, yet her voice was unusually high.

"Really good," he said, nodding. "And not just because I stirred the hell out of it."

She smiled but didn't laugh.

Then he added, "Although--I feel like I deserve some kind of medal for surviving contact with boiling sauce and a hot woman in shorts," He was trying to break the tension once more, by calling out the elephant in the room.

Natalie paused, fork in midair, eyes narrowing. "Did you just call me hot and yourself a victim in the same sentence?"

He grinned. "I'm just saying--I stayed calm under pressure."

She snorted, finally letting the laugh out. "You bumped into a countertop and grabbed me like I was falling off a cliff."

"I saved your life. That's how I remember it."

She shook her head, laughing into her wine glass. "You're lucky you didn't end up wearing that sauce."

Their eyes met again, this time without any hesitation.

And just like that, the tension cracked. Not entirely gone, but unquestionably softened by humor. The incident now felt like the kind that could be ignored for a little while longer at the very least.

Aiden twirled a forkful of pasta, still grinning. "Okay, so no medal. Do I at least get my certificate in beginner-level domestic competence?"

Natalie tilted her head, giving him a faux-serious once-over. "Hmm. I don't know. Stirring one pot and not ruining it doesn't exactly make you a chef. Not even entry level."

He pointed at his bowl. "This pot was stirred with precision. Artistry."

"It was stirred," she agreed, deadpan.

He feigned offense again. "Geez. Harsh review from the head of the academy."

"You want your certificate?" she said, leaning forward slightly. "You're gonna need at least three more supervised lessons. And no jarred garlic," she finished pointing her fork at him.

"Three?" he asked in exasperation. "This is a racket."

"Good cooking takes time."

He gave a dramatic sigh, then raised his water glass toward her. "To time, then."

She touched her glass to his with a soft clink. "And supervision."

Aiden leaned back slightly, that grin still tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Man... you really do like telling twenty-year-olds what to do."

She arched an eyebrow. "Only the ones living in my house."

That hit harder than it should've.

He felt a twitch low, and unexpected. Not from the line itself, but the way she said it. It had a dry teasing quality. Almost indulgent.

He shifted slightly in his chair, trying not to make it obvious, muttering under his breath, "I can live with that."

She caught just enough to hear him say something. "What?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, stabbing another bite of pasta like it had wronged him.

She smirked. "You better be able to live with it, if you're gonna live here."

His smile returned only smaller this time.

"I'm a quick learner," he replied.

She didn't respond right away. The innuendo wasn't lost on her, but she chose to ignore it. Surely, he was still talking about the cooking.

Right?

She took another bite instead, giving him a kind of look that could pass for amused disinterest, before adding a smile.

Chapter 20

It was early Saturday morning when Aiden came out of his room shirtless, scratching absently at his chest, eyes still half-lidded from sleep. He'd stayed up too late finishing some items for a couple of his courses. He wanted to make sure they were done so he could enjoy his weekend.

The couch still had the blanket he hadn't bothered to fold, the room was flooded with daylight as the blinds were drawn open. He rarely saw them open, but didn't think much of it.

He moved toward the kitchen, then stopped. Through the patio door, Natalie was outside and she hadn't seen him yet.

The balcony was a decent size, providing enough room for two people to stretch or sit without bumping elbows, but not much more than that. It was private, being exposed just enough to the morning air to make it feel like its own quiet little escape.

There was a yoga mat unrolled, with a water bottle resting nearby. And Natalie, mid-pose, arms raised in a long stretch as her torso leaned into a slow, twisting reach.

Aiden froze.

She was wearing dark, tight leggings. The kind that clung like second skin and hid absolutely nothing. The fabric hugged every curve, were high-waisted and tight across her lower back before dipping into the deep arch where her spine met the rise of her hips. From there, the seam curved down the center of her ass, defining, dividing, accentuating. Exquisite.

Her ass was full, round and high. It swayed slightly with every shift and seemed to catch the light in all the right places, highlighting the fullness with the shadows exaggerating its curves. Each time she moved into a stretch or tilted her hips, the leggings revealed the subtle play of muscle beneath, the way her glutes flexed and hollowed where they met the tops of her thighs, forming that faint, impossibly distracting dip.

Up top, her tank wasn't really a tank at all, it was more of a cropped athletic top, snug and structured, with a sheer panel across the upper chest, flashing the swells beneath without fully exposing anything. Bold white trim hugged the seams, drawing the eye to the slope of her shoulders and the soft dip where her cleavage began.

Her breasts filled the fabric completely, also full and high, being supported by the snug fit but not fully hidden by it. Each slow breath made the material shift ever so slightly, the subtle weight and movement beneath it undeniable. The sheer mesh panel revealed the soft press of cleavage, where her curves met under gentle compression.

It wasn't lingerie, he figured it probably wasn't even intended to be overtly sexy. It was meant to be breathable, but on her, in the glow of morning light, it was impossible to ignore.

She bent forward into a deep stretch, palms grazing the mat. The way the top shifted with her as it tightened across her chest, and lifted just slightly to expose more of the strip of toned stomach, held Aiden's gaze. He should've turned away to let her do her routine in peace, but he didn't.

She remained bent forward in a deep stretch, palms to the mat. Her top continued to inch up as she her hands moved further from her feet, exposing a triangle of lower back. She moved through downward dog, before a slow rise, the shape of her thighs and the deep roundness of her ass still holding his gaze.

It was the kind of body that came to life when it stretched. He'd already been noticing how it was soft in all the right places, but now he could see the muscle beneath it.

She wasn't bulky. Not even close. But in each transition, each hold and shift, he saw the definition make itself known. The subtle strength in her thighs. The curve of her waist. And when she raised her arms and twisted away from him, the muscles in her upper back flexed just beneath her skin.

She'd mentioned once that her work had a gym to help people relieve some stress and stay healthy. Now he believed her when she said she used it. Aiden blinked, forcing a swallow, realizing how wet his mouth had become.

He didn't know how long he stood there staring, until her head turned just slightly. Her head shifted toward the patio door. She saw him, yet, she didn't look away immediately. For a moment, she held the stretch, breathing through it. Only now, her eyes were on his.

Then, slowly, she stood straight, and adjusted her waistband with a tug that drew the fabric tighter across her.

He started to back away, but just as he turned toward the kitchen, she flowed into another pose. Turning her back to him, so her feet were running the length of the mat, they widened across it, hands tracing down her thighs and calves until they met the floor. She folded herself in what seemed like a deliberately slow movement, until her upper body hung low in a wide-legged forward bend. The curve of her spine deepened with the motion leaving her hips tilted, high and poised.

Her leggings hugged every inch of her, clinging to the fullness of her ass with unapologetic honesty of its shape. The seam down the center pulled tighter, defining and dividing even more as they dug in with her bend, while the stretch across her thighs left no mystery about the firmness beneath. As she adjusted her weight, her glutes flexed subtly in involuntary, magnetic detail.

Aiden froze, one hand still resting on the counter behind him. He meant to go about his business as he backed away moments ago, but now he couldn't stop looking.

Then her head tipped, slow and natural, bringing her face into view between her legs, upside down, accented by the fall of her hair. Her gaze settled toward the patio door once more, finding him.

Her face betrayed nothing. No surprise, no amusement. Just calm concentration as she held the pose. She didn't linger long, just enough for the connection to register and then lowered her eyes toward the floor and let her breath ease out with the stretch.

Inside, Aiden jolted back into motion, turning too quickly, bumping his hip against the counter as he reached for the cabinet, any cabinet, pretending he was there for a glass or maybe even oxygen at this point.

Chapter 21

Natalie inhaled slowly through her nose, shifting her weight to center herself. Her heart had skipped a beat the moment their eyes met, and now she struggled to pull it back into a slow rhythm.

She hadn't meant to hold the pose that long or even make eye contact again, but something about the way he'd stood there with his eyes wide and frozen, breath probably caught in his chest, kept running through her head.

She was supposed to take care of Lisa's little boy. That's what Lisa had said when she left. A casual joke at the time, but now it felt like a line she wasn't supposed to cross. It never even would've been a thought before, but now...

No, she was the adult here. The stable one. The woman with a career and bills and enough baggage to fill the hall closet. Not someone a twenty-year-old should be watching like that.

Except, he had watched. And it hadn't been leering or crude. It had been focused and looked like he was in awe, more than anything else. Like he was mesmerized by what he was seeing.

He was young though. Guys his age were supposed to be ruled by hormones, weren't they? Driven by instinct and barely learning to manage it. It wasn't really his fault his body probably reacted before his brain caught up. That was normal. Just biology. Right?

And even if it hadn't been... was it so wrong to feel flattered? To be looked at like that? By someone his age and good looking? And not because she was trying to be sexy, but because she simply existed?

The heat in her cheeks had nothing to do with the sun. It had everything to do with knowing she'd affected him. That he'd stared. That without trying, her body had held him in place like a spell.

And the fact that she could have that effect on him, a man a dozen years younger, barely out of his teens, was rooted in place by the sight of her, fed something deep in her chest. Something hungry, that she'd just barely started to feed.

It wasn't about wanting him, per se. It was about the part of her that had woken up after the divorce, and the part she was still getting to know. The one that didn't always follow logic when it craved something more. It leaned into moments like this because it hadn't found its own limits yet.

Moments like this stirred that part of her and tugged at it. The truth was, she wasn't sure where her boundaries lay. She felt like she hadn't even seen the edge of them yet.

Natalie lingered on the balcony a little longer than she normally would have after her routine. Her body was warm, looser now from the yoga, but also from something still simmering from the way Aiden had looked at her.

She wiped down her mat. It was part of the routine, but today it also provided the moment for herself to try and recenter herself. Eventually she stepped back inside, sliding the patio door closed.

The apartment was mostly quiet. The bathroom door was closed, muting the soft rush of water from the shower that was just barely audible. She didn't hear the fan. He always forgot the fan, leaving the small space, humid and hot.

In the kitchen, she moved more slowly than usual. Tossed a banana, a spoonful of almond butter, and oat milk with some ice into the blender. The noise filled the silence, drowning out her thoughts. She poured the smoothie into a tall glass and leaned against the counter, sipping slowly. The floor was cool beneath her bare feet.

She glanced toward the hall and the closed bathroom door. His shower seemed to be taking longer than usual.

She frowned lightly, then blinked. No, not frowned, but furrowed her brow in concentration of her thoughts. Still, her brain offered up a scenario before she could shut it down: he'd been watching her. Maybe still thinking about it. Maybe taking advantage of the one place in the apartment where a twenty-year-old could pretend to be subtle about getting off in the morning with some privacy. Thinking he was being slick about using his shower as a cover.

As if she hadn't been the one to pick that shower head herself. And for a reason. Natalie shook her head and took another sip, but the heat that persisted in her chest wasn't being cooled by her drink.

Chapter 22

One hand braced against the tile. The other already wrapped around himself, moving with deliberate slowness.

He tried to pretend it wasn't about her. That the day hadn't started with the shape of her ass becoming burned into his memory. That she hadn't looked right at him as she stood upright on that balcony, stretching in the morning light. Or her eyes catching his, lips parting like she was slightly surprised before she moved again.

He'd tried to walk away. Tried not to linger, and then she bent forward into that pose. That stretch.

Her legs widened, spine folding over, and presenting her ass to him. The fabric of her leggings clung like a second skin, hugging every curve and drawing his eye, with no chance of restraint. The waistband sat high on her waist, emphasizing the narrowest part of her body before flaring out into the soft, full roundness of her hips. The seam between her cheeks carved a clean, defined line, exaggerating the dip where her thighs met and hugging the subtle swell of her mound in a way no modest athletic wear should've been allowed.

Fucking yoga pants, he thought.

His breath caught before he even realized he was staring. His mind was frozen in that moment. She had to know he was still there, standing in full view through the patio door. She could've turned the other way. Could've faced her ass away from him, or chosen another stretch, anything to move her body away from his line of sight. But she hadn't. Whether it was intentional or just the next motion in her routine didn't matter anymore.

Now, with the hot water streaming down his back and the soapy slickness of his palm stroking slowly along the full length of his cock, he wasn't pretending it wasn't about her anymore. The day had started with the details of her body being burned into his memory. Her narrow waist, full breasts, the incredible way her ass had flexed and stretched with each breath she took. He hadn't truly seen her figure before that morning. Not in this detail, at least. Not as the real, physical woman who slept across the hall from him, whose body now replayed behind his eyes with perfect clarity.

She wasn't just a fantasy like the girls in his shows or the videos in the hidden folders on his laptop. She moved with grace and a quiet strength, fluid and real in a way no animation could ever replicate. She wasn't exaggerated. The way her muscles shifted beneath her skin, the curve of her waist when she twisted, the not-so-subtle shifting of her breasts as she rose. It was all real.

His hand kept moving, slow and steady, his other palm braced against the tile to keep himself upright. He imagined her catching him now, eyes flicking back at him from between her legs, upside down and mischievous. Watching him, like she wanted to see what she'd done to him. Maybe even proud of it.

His strokes grew faster, and more urgent. The muscles coiled tight, ash his thighs locked, with every nerve focused on the image of her bent over, hair falling, arms stretched, ass tilted just so. That impossible pose burned behind his eyes, replaying on loop. He was positive she knew what she was doing when she chose that next pose.

But it wasn't just the image. It was the sound, too, of that first night, when he'd heard her. Not just a voice. But hers, Natalie's, sexy friend that used to come over to their house. Along with his own mother's. Soft and needy, rising beneath the covers as she begged for more. As Lisa pushed her. As she moaned louder, dirtier, like she couldn't help herself. He'd never looked at his mom as anything more than his mom, but in this moment, he wasn't about to slow down to try and shake the memory. He just needed to cum.

So now, with that memory layered over her body in motion, her curves wrapped in second skin, ass flexing under that seam as she bent forward for him, and the unexpected twist of his own mother's voice egging her on in his head, he couldn't hold back any longer.

His free hand dropped to the base of his cock. He pinched hard, trapping the pressure for one more breathless second. His grip tightened. His rhythm faltered. He let out a stifled groan into his shoulder.

And then he let go, letting the his cum explode out of him.

His hips bucked forward as the first spurt came out thick and forceful, splattering against the tile. Another shot, higher up, streaking across the wall. Then another. Long, hot ribbons of cum painting the surface in ragged lines as his body shuddered through each pulse.

He didn't stop until he was drained, his hand finally slowing, allowing his grip to loosen and his body to twitch. His chest heaved, standing in the hot water. The spray of the water couldn't mask the mess he'd made. It streamed slowly down the wall, clinging stubbornly in trails.

Aiden braced his forearm against the tile, resting his forehead there as he breathed. Trying not to picture her on that balcony anymore. Or her lips parted when she saw him. Or the sound of her voice, gasping into the dark of his room.

He just stood there, stunned and raw, as he watched his cum slide down the tile and swirled toward the drain. Taking a minute, he finally cupped some water in his palms and splashing it against the wall to wash it away.

Chapter 23

Natalie heard the water shut off and waited just long. Then, casually, she stepped out of her room and leaned against the doorframe.

She didn't need to; there was no rush. She could've waited until the bathroom was clear, and the hallway was empty, but she didn't. He'd seen her that morning, standing there staring. So, fair was fair.

Her light robe was tied loosely, where it cinched around her waist. The fabric hung soft against her frame, revealing more of one thigh than she usually would from how she posed it. Her arms crossed as she leaned back into the wood, the position making her chest rise a touch higher than necessary. She kept her gaze on the opposite wall, like she was thinking about something else. Like this was just part of the experience of their shared space.

Inside the bathroom, she heard movement. A rustle of the towel, a soft cough. Then the click of the handle as the door opened.

Aiden stepped out, the shower steam surrounding him. His skin was still flushed from the hot water, damp in places. The towel sat low on his hips, really low compared to normal, and draped in all the right spots, hinting at the shape beneath.

He didn't see her at first, but when he did, he stopped.

His shoulders tensed slightly, but his gaze held. "Hey."

Natalie tilted her head. "Took your time."

He didn't say anything, just reached for the edge of the towel, adjusting it with a casual tug meant to be subtle to disguise the way he was still partially swollen beneath it. But the motion drew her eyes anyway.

She didn't linger, but she didn't immediately look away either. Fair was fair. Her gaze dipped, caught on the shift of fabric over his hips, the telltale outline beneath it. Then, as though the reality of what she'd invited finally settled on her skin, her hands rose to the collar of her robe. She closed it higher over her chest, the movement slow, perhaps less automatic than before. She'd suddenly felt the implications of her own choices.

She'd meant to tease him, and catch him off guard, but now she was the one feeling exposed. Perhaps even a little flushed and breathless.

"Well," she said clearing her throat, then stepping forward and brushing past him, "good thing I'm patient."

The edge of her robe brushed the back of his wrist as she passed, a light, trailing contact that sent a pulse through his skin, sure she was unaware.

At the bathroom door, she paused for a breath, then glanced back over her shoulder, a look that was meant to be quick. But her eyes caught his, still watching her, and something fluttered low in her belly.

"And use the fan next time," she said, her voice softer than intended. It was a flimsy excuse for the glance, but the best she could offer. She wasn't sure if it carried any real authority or if he heard her. He seemed distracted by the fact that she'd looked back at him once more.

She stepped inside shutting the door behind her, leaving the hallway quiet again.

Aiden stood in place, with his towel coming loose from his waist, as his hand held it up. His heart was racing from the quick encounter after having just rubbed one out thinking of her. The door had shut, but her voice still echoed, "Use the fan next time." It sounded almost like an afterthought to him. But the way she'd glanced back... the way her eyes had caught his...

He felt like an idiot to still be standing there once she started to move. But he couldn't get his legs to move once she brushed past him in that robe.

His hormone addled brain wondered how long she'd been standing there. Was she there while he was still in the shower, groaning into his own shoulder? Had she caught him? Maybe she'd expected it and that was why she was there. Maybe she didn't care. But it still made his stomach flip as he stood frozen in the hallway, unsure if he should've apologized for watching her, or do anything other than replay that moment in his head until it was burned in for good.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and finally turned toward his room, wiping a hand down his face as he went. The towel loosened in his grip, slipping lower against his hip, one careless step from ending up around his ankles.

He caught it just in time, yanking the towel back into place with a quiet mutter. Christ. That would've been perfect if she'd still been watching then. Just standing there like an idiot, towel slipping, with nothing left to hide.

As he walked to his room, her voice echoed in his head. Use the fan next time. Telling him what to do. Again. He smiled to himself. Yeah... he really didn't mind.

Chapter 24

Natalie stood with her back against the closed door, hand still resting on the knob.

The bathroom was warm from his shower, as the steam was clinging faintly to the mirror, fogging up the glass. The air smelled like his body wash--something clean, citrusy maybe, and the scent alone made her pulse stir in her throat. She was glad she couldn't see her own reflection looking back at her through the fog.

She hadn't meant to look back, but she had, and he'd still been there watching her.

She slipped the robe from her shoulders, letting it fall in a soft heap to the floor. The memory of how he looked clung to her skin like the steam was. His lean, sculpted frame, still damp hair slicked back from the shower, bare chest a flushed pink from the heat. His stomach wasn't just flat, it was ribbed for her pleasure, she thought smiling to herself as she remembered the subtle definition of his abs. A faint, enticing V of muscle was also just visible above his hips. The thin, dark trail of hair, just as she'd glimpsed that first morning he'd come out to say goodbye to Lisa, disappearing precisely down the center of his taut belly beneath the low-slung towel. And beneath that towel, pressing forward, was a subtle, but undeniable bulge he'd tried to unsuccessfully hide.

Her skin still tingled in places, a ghostly echo of sensation, as though anticipating something that hadn't yet happened. As though responding to a fleeting moment that was barely a moment at all.

She turned toward the mirror, catching only a hazy glimpse of herself through the steam still clinging to the glass from his shower. Her reflection was still muted. She could feel the tightness across her chest though, and the way her breath hadn't fully settled.

This wasn't like her. She almost felt ashamed, like it was wrong considering her relationship with Lisa. Yet... it was also the kind of thrill that came from doing something you knew you shouldn't, because it was exciting, and a secret all your own. Because it made your skin feel too tight and your thoughts scatter from the things you needed to be thinking about, or getting done. The kind of impulse that lived right next to bad decisions and dared you to cross the line anyway.

He was twenty. Twelve years younger. Lisa's son.

And still, none of that had stopped her from leaning in the doorway like that, or from letting the robe stay loose for when he opened the door, from turning back to look for one last glance, expecting him to be walking away.

She drew in a breath and stepped toward the shower, turning the water back on, needing the heat to clear her head, and burn away whatever that had been.

She stepped into the shower without hesitation, letting the warm mist envelope her as the water greeted her skin. It was still heated from his shower, and hadn't needed much time to come back. Just like him, already gone, but still lingering.

She faced the spray, letting it rush over her collarbones, her breasts, her stomach, embracing the warm water. Closing her eyes and tilting her chin down slightly, she exhaled as the stream licked across her chest and ran down her belly.

When she opened them again, she noticed something just ahead at chest level on the tiled wall. A smear of thick, pearlescent residue clung where the water didn't reach. She blinked, squinting.

Must be his body wash. Not the bright green gel he usually left in the caddy, but a heavier, off-white kind he must've used from the sample bottles she kept in the cabinet. A thicker formula. He must've left it behind without realizing.

Careless, like you'd expect from a twenty-year-old boy, she thought.

She reached forward and wiped it away with her hand. It was stickier than expected, slow to dissolve and rinse under the water. It clung for a moment before the stream finally swept it clean, down the drain.

That little streak of his body wash reminding her of his age and the mess he'd sometimes leave behind. It was a forgettable mark of him on the tile in front of her.

What else could his age provide though?

She sighed, leaning forward slightly, letting the water pool in the hollow behind her collarbones before it trailed down the rest of her.

God, Nat. Get a grip.

But her body didn't care what she told herself, and it responded anyway. Every inch of her skin seemed to pulse with the memories of their recent proximity, or of glances, of tension that was no longer hypothetical, but after this morning, undeniable. And somehow, standing here where he had been only minutes ago, she felt more mentally naked than she had all morning.

She stood with her arms under her breasts, collecting the water running steadily over her chest, and let her mind drift back to the hallway. The way she'd stood there. The robe barely closed. Her body flushed, whether from her yoga, or from the thought of him watching.

It may have been impulsive, but there was no denying it was intentional in how she stood waiting for her turn. She'd leaned in the doorway, aware of every inch of herself, of the way the fabric hung loosely around her thighs on purpose. Of the way his eyes had dropped and how she hadn't immediately covered up. Taking a few moments to sink in, what she was inviting.

Right or wrong, the moment had already happened and now... now she couldn't stop replaying it.

She shifted slightly, lowering her arms and allowing the water to trail along her stomach once more, running over what she always thought was a rather cute belly button before slipping lower and catching in the narrow landing strip. Her breath becoming a little heavier.

With a quiet motion, she reached for the showerhead, pulling the wand free from its base. Her thumb moved without thinking, adjusting it to the right setting with a soft click until the stream narrowed, pulsing.

She didn't even look down as she leaned back against the wall, the cool tile kissing her spine as she brought the wand lower. Eyes closed, head tipped back, she let the heat and silence close in around her.

Chapter 25

It was late on a Thursday, and Natalie was curled on the couch with a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other. The TV was on some familiar crime drama she'd seen before, but her attention was split. Her robe hung loosely over her soft, oversized sleep shirt, and one bare leg was stretched out toward the coffee table.

Her phone buzzed again. She smiled faintly at the screen.

Matt, the guy she'd been texting for the past couple weeks, was being a bit more daring tonight. Flirty and charming. He'd just asked if she was free that weekend, and there'd been a not-so-subtle compliment about how she looked in that last photo she'd posted on her social.

She hadn't sent him anything risqué yet, but she'd been thinking about it. She took another sip of wine, thumb hovering above the keyboard to fire back a teasing reply, when the front door opened.

She looked up to see Aiden walk in followed closely by a girl. Slim, blonde-haired, college-pretty in that polished, to much makeup, kind of way. They seemed a little loud considering the hour, giggling and talking.

"Hey," Aiden said, casual as ever. "Didn't think you'd still be up."

Natalie offered a neutral smile. "Just finishing something."

The girl beamed, looking around. "Hi! Your place is super cute."

"Thanks." Natalie's smile didn't reach her eyes. She glanced down at her phone, read the next message, then locked the screen without replying.

Aiden didn't bother with the introductions. The girl didn't seem to mind. A few seconds later, the two of them disappeared down the hall, his bedroom door swinging mostly closed, but not quite all the way.

Natalie sat still for a moment, her wine glass nearly empty, and the phone buzzing softly beside her with another text.

The TV murmured in the background, but it wasn't the volume that bothered her now, it was the sound from Aiden's room. Laughter, muffled but clear, followed by the bounce of bedsprings and the distant thump of music playing from his little portable speaker. It carried into the living room with more clarity than she cared for.

She didn't want to turn up the volume on the TV and possibly disturb the neighbors. After all, it was a work night. That part irritated her more than she wanted to admit. She hadn't known he was bringing anyone home tonight. And that was fine, it was bound to happen eventually. She told herself she was okay with that.

Just... on a Thursday?

She picked up her phone, read the newest message from Matt, and laughed softly through her nose, but the sound didn't match the tension rising in her shoulders.

She rolled her eyes as another burst of laughter echoed faintly from the hall. Not exactly what she wanted to hear on a Thursday night. Not when she had work in the morning. She headed into the kitchen, muttering under her breath, and topped off her wine glass.

She wasn't a jealous girl, this wasn't jealousy. It was irritation. Maybe mild disbelief. He hadn't even warned her. Who brought someone home mid-week, knowing people have work in the morning?

She started toward her room, her bare feet quiet against the floor, and slowed as she passed his door. Without thinking, she reached out and pulled it gently closed. The click of the latch was soft, but definite.

Almost immediately, the girl's laugh rang out again, light and careless. Aiden laughed too. "Shhh," he murmured through a grin she could hear even from the hall.

And then it came.

"Your roommate's older than I thought she'd be."

Natalie paused mid-step.

Aiden's voice followed after a quick pause, "She's not old. She's thirty-two."

She smirked faintly at that. Good answer.

"I said older, not old. Still hot though," she replied, not skipping a beat.

Another pause.

And then, softer, "Yeah."

Natalie shook her head and walked into her room, shutting the door behind her. She wasn't offended, not even by the "still hot" part. She was thirty-two, not sixty.

Still, there was something about hearing it from the other side of the wall, about being spoken of that way, while someone else got to have the fun. If anything twisted beneath the surface, it wasn't jealousy, it was the curiosity of what it might feel like to be on the other side of that door.

A nameless girl she'd seen for all of ten seconds. Barely a blink. Younger, clearly Aiden's age, give or take a year, and yet there she was, casually assessing her. Talking about her body like it was a topic for light conversation.

Older or not, she was still hot, she knew that. And it's what the girl had said. Aiden hadn't denied it either. He hadn't fumbled for a polite correction. He hadn't made a joke to deflect.

He'd just agreed.

Something about that made her pulse pick up, sitting on the edge of her bed and sipping her wine. The words played in her head again. Still hot.

Her body was good, she knew it. She worked hard for it. She felt confident most days, even if she didn't parade around looking for compliments. However, hearing it like that from a stranger who was about to get some, unprompted, and echoed back in Aiden's quiet Yeah... it felt different. Even if it wasn't meant for her ears, she couldn't un-hear it.

Her phone buzzed again on the nightstand. She glanced at the screen. Matt.

She didn't open it right away, just sipped her wine and let the last few seconds echo again in her mind. The laughter. The voices. Still hot.

When she finally tapped the screen, Matt's message popped up. A smile crossed her face as she considered her response.

She exhaled a breath through her nose, more amused than flattered, though the curve of her mouth would've given her away if he were here to see. He'd been pushing the flirtation harder this week, testing the waters, but keeping it playful. No shirtless pics. No dirty talk. But she'd noticed the tone had. She let it happen.

And based on that message? Yeah. He'd definitely agree with the blonde. Still hot.

Probably didn't care that she was thirty-two either. Probably liked that she knew what she was doing. Hell, probably imagined things she hadn't even offered.

She stared at the text for a moment, rolling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers, the smooth glass warming slightly under her touch, and vaguely reminding her of other objects with smooth textures not far away, tucked in the back of a drawer.

Then she heard the muffled laughter again, coming quick and breathy. A thump. The creak of the bed frame shifting under sudden weight. Another giggle. Aiden's low voice. Then softer sounds.

Other than Natalie's fingers tightening around her glass, she didn't move. She didn't reach for the remote or crank the TV volume or even put on music. It was late after all and she still didn't want the neighbors to share in the noise.

However, she did sit there perfectly still, and let the sounds play out. The not-so-subtle reality of what was happening just a room away carrying the girl's breathy gasp.

She took a sip of her wine.

Kim was laughing against his neck with her legs tangled in his sheets, and her bare foot sliding up the back of his calf. His hands were already under her top, and she was letting his fingertips skate along her ribs as she leaned in for another kiss. It was sloppy, with her teeth grazing his lip.

Aiden grinned against her mouth, hips tensing when she suddenly palmed him through his boxers. Her hand was small, moving fast, as it explored him.

"Fuck, you're huge," Kim blurted, loudly.

The words were out with no regard for the volume.

Aiden froze for a half-second, biting his lip as her mouth moved to his neck, trying to pull his attention back. The music on his speaker hummed low from the nightstand, doing little to mask the creak of the mattress.

He hadn't closed the door all the way earlier, leaving Natalie to be the one to do it. She did it quietly, without comment as a quick act as she passed by. He'd have to be more aware next time. He would be more careful. But even as Kim shifted, moving above him, and her hair brushed his chest with her grip tightening around him, his mind drifted somewhere else unintentionally.

To Natalie in the hallway, wrapped in her robe. Then to her stretching absently as she reached for the cupboard, naturally going from there to yoga pants painted to her thighs. The way the fabric hugged her every curve when she leaned forward. The shape of her waist and the flush on her face when she caught him looking.

He exhaled hard through his nose, forcing the memory down, and pulled Kim into another kiss, rougher this time. Kim rocked against him with a breathless laugh, her fingers curling tighter as she stroked him through the soft material.

"Jesus, Aiden--how are you this big?" she gasped, louder now, still no attempt to hold back.

He gave a shaky groan, arching his neck as her mouth found his collarbone. "You keep saying that like it's a problem," he muttered.

She giggled. "It might be, but there's only one way to find out."

With each movement, the mattress springs protested, a creak accompanying the slide of his boxers to midthigh and her hand finding more skin to touch.

"God, I've wanted to do this all night," she breathed against his throat. "From the minute I saw you."

Aiden's fingers dug into her hips, dragging her closer. "Then shut up and do it."

She gave a mischievous hum and pulled back. Her lips brushed his chest as she began to slide down his body. Tugging his boxers the rest of the way off, she tossed them to the side without ceremony.

He barely had time to exhale before he felt her mouth on him. Taking him in with a greedy slurp that made his stomach clench, she moaned around him, the sound muffled but unmistakably filthy. Another slick glide, then a soft gag as she pushed too far on purpose, laughing breathlessly before diving back in.

Slurping. Moaning. The steady bob of her head against his thighs, and wet sounds growing louder as she worked him with both mouth and hands. There was no shame in her eagerness.

And no way anyone nearby wasn't hearing it. He knew from personal experience how sound carried here, but he was to wound up to care.

Chapter 26

The wine had settled into her limbs, as her body stretched out across the bed in a loose sprawl. One leg was bent slightly, the other straight. Her toes were curled against the sheet. The TV was on, but the volume was muted, leaving just light flickering through the room, yet she hadn't looked at it in minutes.

Her phone rested unlocked beside her, with the screen glowing. She hadn't replied to Matt's last text yet.

She took another slow sip of wine, swallowing, savoring the way it made her body feel. Feeling just buzzed enough to let her drift without questioning where her mind was going.

Then it came.

"Fuck, you're huge!"

The voice carried straight through the door and there was no mistaking it. It was a high and delighted pitch, practically giddy with awe.

Natalie's brows lifted slightly as she stared at the ceiling. Her other hand slid along her thigh without thinking, letting her fingertips brush the skin just beneath the hem of her shirt.

Huge.

She repeated the word in her head once, maybe twice, unable to stop herself from wondering what that meant to her. To a girl who sounded that young. Had she barely seen anything? Could she be impressed by average?

Or had she been around enough to know when something deserved that reaction? Maybe she was just trying to flatter Aiden.

Natalie didn't even realize she'd spread her legs a little more until the hem of her shirt shifted, brushing the very top of her thigh.

Her phone buzzed again bringing her back to the moment to pick it up.

Still thinking about sending that pic? Or are you just teasing me now.

A smile curved at her lips. She liked this side of Matt that was being a little forward tonight in a way that made her feel a little challenged by him. He was being a bit pushy, and pushy often pushed her to test her boundaries.

She lifted the phone, read the text again, and let her eyes trail lower down her body.

The sounds from Aiden's room hadn't stopped. The wet gagging and quiet groan making its way into her space. Another slurp, followed by a soft, encouraging moan from the girl, whoever she was.

Natalie's fingers moved across her stomach now, circling her navel, before drifting lower without intention at first. Her head tipped to the side and she picked up the phone to read the message again. She could feel her heartbeat picking up.

The sounds from down the hall continued, faint, but distinct. More moans accompanying the slick, wet rhythm. The low hum of approval from Aiden, followed by another gasp from the giggling girl.

Natalie's breathing deepened. Her fingers circling lower still, the warmth between her legs matching the heat in her cheeks. She opened the camera on her phone, and adjusted slightly, before looking down at herself.

The light in the room was soft giving her skin had a warm glow. Her thighs parted just enough and she lifted her shirt a little more, framing the curve of her hip. She took the photo.

Still didn't send it, but she laid there assessing how she looked in the picture.

The sounds from the other room were still going, filling the silence between the beats of her heart. She'd stopped trying to drown them out, no longer feeling a need to ignore them, since they didn't seem to be concerned about making noise.

And then she slid her hand just a little lower.

Aiden's fingers threaded into her hair, tightening just enough to make her pause, before he pulled her head back. Her mouth slid off him with a wet pop, breath catching as she looked up.

"Get the rest of your clothes off," he said, voice low and rough. "I want to see you."

She smiled, through slick and swollen lips, then backed off the bed in a slow crawl that was meant to tease. Aiden barely registered that she was putting on a show. He was watching her body now, and it took him a moment to recognize that she was performing.

The shirt came off first, cropped and fitted. Then her bra, it unhooked easily and got tossed aside.

Her breasts were small and had a natural curve that fit her petite frame. He took in the subtle lines of her ribs, the taut stretch of skin over her stomach, the way her hipbones jutted out just enough to cast a shadow in the dim light.

She pushed her shorts down next, revealing there was nothing underneath. Aiden's gaze followed the movement as she stepped out of them, her thighs were slim and toned. She was delicate, almost fragile-looking. Slender hips, a trim waist with small, neat proportions all the way down.

It was nothing like what he'd been seeing lately. Not like the woman in the hallway that one morning, in a robe that didn't fully cover her. The flash of thighs he couldn't unsee, that carried a softness that stayed with him even now.

Kim climbed back onto the bed, crawling over him with her chest brushing his as she kissed him again.

"Condom?" she asked, breathless against his jaw.

"Nightstand," he muttered, hands sliding down her sides, feeling every inch of her small frame he could reach beneath his palms.

She reached for the drawer without breaking the kiss, still grinding against him slowly, her pussy leaving slick trails across his skin.

Even as she tore the wrapper open and rolled it on with practiced hands, part of Aiden's mind briefly went back to that first night when he had first moved in.

Was she listening to them now? Or was she doing something to drown it out?

The thought bounced around in his head, bringing a heat that was tightening low in his gut just as Kim sank onto him with a sharp gasp. Aiden bit his lip, eyes closing as he grabbed her hips to steady her, to steady himself, and he gave in to the feeling.

Kim rocked her hips slowly at first, easing herself down inch by inch, her breath catching with each movement. Her hands pressed against his chest for balance and dug her nails in just slightly as she adjusted.

"Jesus," she whispered, voice shaking. "You weren't kidding."

Aiden's eyes stayed on where they were joined, watching the way her body struggled to take him. It was more than just the length, though that was clearly a challenge, but the thickness. Her breath becoming strained every time she sank a little deeper, the stretch obvious in her face, and the trembling of her thighs.

"You okay?" he asked through a clenched jaw, hands gliding over her sides now.

She nodded, parting her lips. "Yeah," she breathed. "Just - fuck, give me a second."

Her hips stilled, grinding in small, shallow circles as she tried to adjust. His hands moved to the sides of her waist, easily wrapping his fingers around the narrow span of it. Both of his hands nearly met at the small of her back. She was that compact. That small.

The contrast hit him hard.

She was tiny everywhere, slender hips, delicate ribcage, and her narrow thighs trembled with her effort. As for him, he looked massive in comparison. Watching himself disappear into her felt obscene. Like something he shouldn't be seeing, shouldn't be doing, but there was no way he was stopping.

Kim whimpered softly, then exhaled a shaky laugh.

"You're... fucking thick," she said, almost accusatory, her voice hoarse with effort. "God."

Aiden groaned, his hands sliding down to her hips, gripping her. "Didn't you say you could handle it?" he muttered, teasing her while straining to keep control. It was a throwback to the teasing brag she'd made hours earlier, when they were still at the bar flirting, and he was just trying to get her home.

"I can," she muttered, lifting herself up slightly before easing back down again, slower this time, her mouth falling open. "But you might ruin me."

Her words shot through him like voltage. He sat up partway, mouth catching hers in a hungry kiss, his hands still bracketing her waist, anchoring and guiding her.

"You feel that?" he murmured against her lips.

She moaned, shivering as he drove up into her just enough to make her cry out. Her arms locked around his shoulders now, clinging as she rode him with uneven, desperate motions.

Every time she took him deeper, he felt it, the pull of her body, the smallness of her frame struggling to contain him. And he loved all of it. The control, the contrast, the sense that she was fighting to keep up with his size.

And for a few blinding minutes, it was enough to shut everything else out. Even the thought of the woman down the hall. Well, almost.

Chapter 27

... She'd stopped trying to drown them out, no longer feeling a need to ignore them, since they didn't seem to be concerned about making noise.

And then she slid her hand just a little lower.

Her fingers grazed over smooth skin, then dipped down, keeping the contact featherlight at first. She was already warm, already far more wet than she'd expected. The friction sent a shiver spiraling up her spine. Letting her legs shift wider, her hips tilted to meet her touch. Her breath was shallow, chest rising and falling in short breaths.

From the other side of the wall there was a soft, feminine gasp followed by a rough, groan she instantly recognized. Aiden.

Natalie's fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, matching the cadence she heard. The girl whimpered again in high-pitched desperation, and Aiden's voice followed in a low murmur she couldn't quite make out, but it was enough just hearing the tone.

Her eyes fluttered closed, lips parting as she rolled her hips against her hand. And then, in a brief moment of sobriety, it hit her.

The walls. That first night. She and Lisa had been tipsy, tangled in the sheets, trying to keep their giggles and kisses muffled. She'd assumed they'd been quiet enough and that Aiden wouldn't have heard. Wouldn't have known. But now... hearing every moan, every slick sound coming from his room, she knew better.

Of course he'd heard them.

Her stomach flipped, arousal deepening at the thought. He'd been right there. Just like she was now. Listening. Imagining.

Was he repulsed by the idea of them together? Did it... excite him? Had he touched himself the way she was touching herself now?

The memory flared hotter now of Lisa on top of her, their bodies tangled, with Natalie gasping into Lisa as she came. It was a moment of private intimacy between them they hadn't shared in a while, but now? Now it felt exposed as she experienced Aiden's moment as he had theirs. And if she could hear every moan coming from his room tonight... Then he'd heard everything that night too.

The idea of it made her hand move faster, with slippery fingers, causing her thighs to tremble.

Then the phone buzzed again.

You still awake?

She blinked down at the screen. Her busy hand didn't stop. Didn't even slow down.

Matt was still here waiting for her to respond to him.

She hovered over the camera roll, and could hear her heart thudding as her thumb slid back to the photo she'd taken moments ago. Looking at the picture, she could see her skin glowing with the shirt pushed up and thighs parted just enough to suggest everything without actually showing too much.

The thought of him looking at her, right now, in this state, struck a nerve. She sent it. No caption or context. Just the image.

Her pulse jumped and the heat flooded her chest, cheeks, and core. Because now he'd see her in a way he never had and he'd know what kind of head space she was in.

Still the sounds kept coming. Aiden's voice, was low compared to the girl's high-pitched moan trailing after it. The mattress creaked in synch with the unmistakable sound of skin meeting skin.

Natalie's body arched, her fingers moving faster and more desperate. Her hand trembled when her thighs began closing in as she worked herself closer. The arousal wasn't just a subtle throb anymore. It was sharp and insistent, demanding her attention.

Matt was with her now, watching through the picture.

Aiden was with her too, without even knowing it. The noises from his room driving her arousal more than Matt who had been the initial catalyst of her evening on the couch.

Kim had finally started to find her rhythm.

Her hips rocked in smoother motions now, less tentative. The stretch was still there, he could feel it every time she dropped down onto him, but her body had clearly begun to adjust to the pressure. She let out a shaky moan as she began to ride him harder.

"Fuck," she gasped, bouncing slightly, hands back on his chest. "See, I told you I could take it. I just needed a minute. I'm the small package good things cum in," she finished with a wink, looking down at him grinning.

Aiden groaned, his fingers digging into her waist again, setting her pace. He couldn't get over the contrast of how small she was, how easily his hands wrapped around her. Watching his cock disappear into her narrow body over and over again made something primal tighten in his gut.

Then she reached up, sweat-slick and wild-eyed, and after a few seconds of twisting her hair, she'd pulled it back into a messy ponytail.

The move should've been playful, but it hit him hard. She was clearly into the moment.

"Give it to me, daddy" she moaned, out of nowhere. "Make me take it all."

Aiden's mind stalled for a second. He hadn't expected that. The way her voice pitched, high, and a little theatrical, it was almost cartoonish. She was playing herself up now, leaning into it, sounding like one of the girls from his late-night anime queue.

It didn't turn him off, but it threw him. Just enough to make him blink, lips parted, trying to recenter himself as she rode him harder.

Her petite ass slapped against his thighs now with each thrust. The sound filled the room, matched by the breathless urgency in her voice.

"Yes, please, daddy, more."

Hearing her call him daddy was unexpectedly arousing. The word on her tongue like that made him growl, bucking up into her hard enough to make her gasp again. She rode it out, eyes fluttering shut, mouth falling open. He'd seen girls say it in porn, even seen anime that dipped into this theme, but it'd never really done anything for him. But now... experiencing it personally, having someone call him "daddy," it was completely different.

"Fuck me," she whimpered. "Just like that, daddy. Yes, yes, right there."

Aiden's grip slipped lower, gripping the curve of her ass, holding her in place as he started bucking up into her faster, harder, until the bed shook beneath them.

Everything else, every thought, every voice, faded. Even if only for a moment.

Chapter 28

Natalie's hand didn't stop.

The moment she sent the photo, something inside her shifted. There was no hesitation anymore, the need was immediate and overwhelming. The idea of Matt seeing her like that for the first time, skin flushed, shirt lifted, thighs parted, sent a sharp thrill through her body.

She hadn't intended to go this far with him tonight. But the wine was warm in her limbs, the sounds from down the hall were getting louder, and her body had already crossed that line.

Her hand was still teasing herself, pressing against the damp cotton of her panties, and her breath catching at the contact. The friction sparked something sharp and urgent inside her. It wasn't enough.

Her hands moved under the hem of her shirt, hooked the waistband, and tugged her panties down. The motion was a little slow, not quite believing she was doing it. She pushed them past her feet and let them drop to the floor beside the bed, then leaned back into the pillows, legs easing apart again.

Now there was nothing in the way, allowing her fingers to find their target more easily this time. She was slick, throbbing, and already aching for more. She moaned under her breath as she circled her clit, hips lifting into the motion, the wet sounds from the other room syncing with her own.

Aiden's bed was creaking steadily. The girl's moans were getting higher, faster. And then she heard something new.

"Give it to me, daddy. Make me take it all."

The line jolted her, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Natalie froze, her heart kicking hard against her ribs. The girl went there, clear as anything. No buildup that Natalie had heard. Just confirmation she could take him all, then right to calling him daddy. It made everything inside Natalie clench.

God. He was really in what had been her guestroom, having a good night, fucking that girl. Right now.

Her phone buzzed. She jumped slightly from being pulled out of the moment.

Jesus. You're so fucking hot.

Matt.

Her chest rose and fell in shallow, quick bursts. One photo, that's all she'd sent. But now he'd seen it and he knew exactly what kind of state she was in and he clearly liked it.

Another message came in just as her hand slipped lower again.

Are you touching yourself right now?

She didn't answer. Her fingers were soaked, her thighs trembling, the tension winding tighter with every stroke.

Matt was looking at her picture. Aiden was in the next room. The girl was still moaning daddy through the wall, louder now, more frequently, completely lost in her own moment.

And Natalie was alone in the dark chasing something she couldn't stop. The pressure surged through her, causing the muscles to tense. Her body arched and then she came. It was hard, fast, and silent with her mouth open in a silent whimper. Her legs locked around her own hand as the orgasm crashed through her in waves.

She dropped back into the bed, spent and flushed, hearing her pulse thrumming in her ears. Every inch of her skin seemed like it was humming.

But through the wall, the sounds hadn't stopped. If anything, they were only getting louder. And her hand hadn't stopped either, only eased up.

Aiden's grip tightened on her hips, but instead of pulling her down again, he stilled her.

Kim blinked, breathless, still trying to move against him, until he lifted her, just like that. No warning, no strain. His hands slid to her ribs, and he picked her up as if she weighed nothing, guiding her off him with smooth control.

"Wait, what are you..." she started, voice thin, confused and flushed.

But he was already moving, setting her gently on the mattress beside him, then standing at the edge of the bed.

He was hard, and glistening. He stroked himself once, in a slow deliberate motion, keeping his eyes on her as he took her in.

"Come here," he said. "And turn around. I wanna fuck you from behind."

That did it for her. Kim hesitated for only a second, a wide smile crossing her face, then crawled toward him on hands and knees. Her ponytail starting to come loose, strands clinging to her flushed, sweaty face, the other still perched haphazardly on top of her head.

She reached him, leaned forward, and gave him a few quick sucks. It was messy, greedy, and more of a tease than anything. Then, without waiting for further direction, she turned, dropped to her elbows, and arched her back, offering herself completely.

Her legs parted enough to adjust the height to line up with him, and also show him everything. The light was just enough to see her puffy lips, with just a hint of the inner lips visible, glistening and open. She tilted her hips back with a shameless wiggle.

"Well?" she said, voice low and daring. "Don't leave me waiting." Then, with a playful little lilt, she added in that same high, cartoonish voice she'd used earlier, right out of some over-the-top anime girl fantasy, "Are you gonna spank me now, daddy?"

Aiden huffed a half-laugh through his nose. "Jesus," he muttered, but it didn't stop him.

He landed a sharp smack to her right cheek, seeing how much of it his hand covered. She gasped, arching with it, the sting pulling a moan from her lips.

"There it is," she breathed, voice hitching as he stepped in closer behind her, lining himself up, and then thrusting deep. There was no warm up, or easing back in.

She cried out, her body tensing around him as he filled her. The angle made everything tighter, every inch harder to take, with him now in more control, but she took it anyway, rocking back into him with a groan.

"Fuck, baby," Aiden growled, his hands gripping her hips. "You feel so damn good like this."

She whimpered, bracing her arms against the bed and her fists clenching the blanket to help hold herself in place against his thrusts. "Yes, daddy. Just like that. Don't stop."

He gave her another smack, this time to her left cheek, watching the ripple shoot across her small, but cute ass as she flinched and pushed back harder.

"You like that, honey?" he asked, his voice low, rough in her ear as he leaned over her back. "You like getting fucked and spanked like a bad little girl?"

"Yes," she moaned, breathless. "Please--more."

He obliged. Alternating cheeks now with sharp slaps between thrusts. She flinched, moaned, gasped with every impact, tightening around him each time. His thrusts stayed steady, deep, and possessive. Her small frame rocked beneath him, every part of her responding. Her cheeks a deepening shade of pink.

"That's it," he panted. "Take it for me, baby. You like that?"

Her voice turned wild, and desperate, the bratty edge from earlier gone and replaced by something more raw.

"I'm yours, daddy," she gasped. "Use me, fuck me harder, please."

His thumb trailed lower, moving from where it had settled at the small of her back. Now it was sliding into the cleft between her cheeks, slipping lower until it found her rosebud. He pressed there gently, holding firm as he drove into her again.

She whimpered, her whole body shaking. "Noooo! N-not there," she said breathily, that same higher pitched voice coming back. "Nobody's ever touched me there, daddy..."

But there was no sincerity in it. No real hesitation.

If anything, it was a line, a performance, delivered with wide-eyed faux-innocence as she looked over her shoulder, and rocked her hips back harder against him. Clearly craving every inch, every press of his thumb where she pretended not to want it.

"You've never been touched here, huh?" Aiden murmured, thumb circling it now, slick with the fluids he'd gathered from around his plunging cock. "I bet you'll like it, baby. I'll go slow. You'll be a good girl for me, won't you?"

Kim moaned, her face buried in the sheets, ass arching shamelessly into his hand even as she gave a half-hearted protest.

"N-no, don't," she said, all breath and whimper, but there was still no resistance in her voice. Just that same bratty pout making its way back into her voice. "I've never... not there..."

Aiden grinned, eyes locked on the way she was opening for him, her body betraying every word.

"Never?" he repeated, and at that exact moment, he pushed.

His thumb sank in slowly, just the tip breaching her tightest spot.

Kim gasped, her whole-body jolting. A broken sound escaped her lips, a desperate moan as she rocked back hard against him, greedy for more even as her breath came fast and ragged.

"I--I don't know," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I shouldn't like it..."

"But you do," he growled, fucking into her deeper now, each thrust pushing her forward as his thumb held steady, locked inside her.

She whimpered, her voice fraying. "No more... please, I can't take any more."

"Shhh," Aiden murmured. "You're doing perfect."

Her ass trembled beneath his grip, stretched around both cock and thumb, and still, she kept pushing back.

Chapter 29

And in the next room, Natalie heard everything.

Natalie lay still for a long moment, her hand stilling to allow the aftershocks of her orgasm to fade into the soft thrum of her pulse. Her body was flushed and damp, her breath slowly settling. But the desire, or her bodies need, hadn't left.

Because the sounds hadn't stopped. She could still hear them. A slap of skin, breathy gasps, the girl's high, theatrical cries of pleasure. And Aiden's voice, low and rough, trying to maintain control.

Her phone buzzed against the sheets.

Still with me?

Matt again.

She blinked, eyes hazy, and tapped out a reply before she could question it.

Not done yet.

She hit send. She didn't think about what she was writing. Just typed and sent it. There was no context other than the picture she'd sent and now she wondered what he was thinking. Her lip caught between her teeth.

Then, through the wall came Aiden's voice again. "And turn around."

Natalie's breath stuttered as the heat flared under her skin, fresh and insistent. She didn't think, as she started to move again.

Pushing herself up slowly, she sat at the edge of the bed, heart already racing again. The room was quiet except for the soft echo of the bed next door and her own shallow breaths.

Still not satisfied, she reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out the most recent toy she'd used. It was slim, curved, and familiar in her hand. But as she wrapped her fingers around its small size, she hesitated. Her gaze drifted toward the dresser.

The other one. Longer. Thicker. Heavier. The one she hadn't touched since that night with Lisa.

She bit her lip, hesitated, then quietly set the first toy aside. Getting up and crossing the room, she went to where her other toys were tucked away. Her hand closed around the bigger one, and something in her chest fluttered as she considered its size and the words from the petite blonde. She could hear the way the girl cried out from the other room. The way Aiden's bed slammed into the wall.

He wasn't average. She was sure of that now.

Moving back to the bed, she crawled up onto it, and got onto her knees, then lowered herself forward over the mattress. Her chest pressed into the sheets, feet hanging just off the edge, same as she imagined the other girl was based on what she could hear. Face down, cheek to the comforter, she closed her eyes and positioned herself, knees spread, ass lifted, just like the girl next door.

One hand cupped her breast, squeezing gently. The other brought the toy between her thighs, the tip brushing over slick, sensitive skin before she angled it and began to ease it in.

She gasped at the stretch, wider, deeper than her fingers provided before. Her hips rocked slightly, adjusting as her body accepted the fullness.

And then she heard a sharp, unmistakable smack. Her breath hitched. Another, harder. Followed by a loud, needy moan from the girl and more words, Natalie couldn't make out through her foggy brain. Her heart was pounding in her ears.

Natalie's thighs tensed, her back arching as she pressed the toy deeper, the sounds from the other room alone were enough to send a pulse between her legs. Her mind filled in the rest--Aiden's hand, her skin pink and hot beneath his palm, her gasps as he praised her and did it again.

The rhythm from Aiden's room became her rhythm now. Low, deep thrusts accompanying wet sounds. The sound of skin on skin, she couldn't mimic. Moans rising. And of course, the spanking. Firm and rhythmic.

She moaned into the sheets, letting her body move in time with theirs. Her hand worked the toy deeper, her other squeezing her breast harder now.

And this time, she didn't try to be quiet.

Kim's messy little ponytail had come undone now, her hair sticking to her neck and shoulders in damp strands. There was nothing playful left in her voice, no whines or theatrics. Just broken, breathless gasps as her body rocked with his, open and wrecked beneath him.

Aiden slid his thumb free from her, and she whimpered at the loss. Before she could even catch her breath, his hands were in her hair, grabbing the loose, sweat-damp strands falling around her shoulders. He wrapped them around both fists and pulled, raising her chest a little higher.

Kim cried out, the pull on her scalp was unexpected. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but that just fueled her. Legs trembling as he drove harder, dragging her body to meet every thrust. Her hands were pressing into the mattress to support her weight as he lifted her by the hair.

There was no resistance now. No pretense. She was lost in the moment, moaning, wild, and chasing every inch of him. Her words were reduced to helpless sounds that barely resembled language.

Aiden grunted, his breath coming in bursts. His grip in her hair tightened. He was close as her body was tightening around him again. He could feel her hot, slick cunt pulling at him, with her slightly bony ass slapping against his hips as he slammed into her.

Then, just for a second, he thought he heard something. Just barely, a sound from outside the room. I was faint and muffled, but he was pretty sure it was a moan. And it wasn't Kim.

His brain barely processed it, but the effect was immediate. It hit him like a spark setting off a chain reaction, snapping his last thread of control.

He groaned, his jaw clenched tight, and slammed into her one last time, burying himself deep as his whole body locked up. He came hard, the orgasm tearing through him as he filled the condom, his fingers fisted tight in her hair, keeping her ass pulled flush to him.

Kim gasped at the pressure, her eyes fluttering as she reached between her legs with one shaking hand, steadying herself with the other. She rubbed herself fast and frantic, and came seconds later, arching beneath him. Her thighs were flexing to the point near cramping from their wide stance and the pleasure coursing through her. Her body twitching around him as she cried out into the room.

They stayed pressed together for a moment, both of them panting and sweating, her body trembling in his grip as his began to finally relax. He let her hair go gently, the strands slipping through his fingers.

But that sound, with no proof of what it was, lingered at the edge of his mind. Was it possible he imagined it?

Chapter 30

Natalie didn't slow.

The sounds through the wall had shifted to something rougher now. The girl crying out, voice wrecked and unfiltered. Aiden growling low, through each audible thrust, each movement punctuated with the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

She was already close again, still sensitive from before. The large dildo pushed her there fast with her body already on edge, and the nerves already primed. But it wasn't just the toy, it was what she'd been hearing.

Something about the way the girl moaned. The tone in Aiden's voice. And the steady smack that could only be one thing. He had been spanking her. Then that was replaced as by her meek protests of what could only be him sticking something in her butt. One of Natalie's own newly discovered pleasures.

Natalie's breath quickened, as her body was tightening. And before she could talk herself out of it, her free hand reached back, as her fingers traveled down the cleft of her own backside. She hesitated only a second, then pushed, one finger pressing past the resistance of the tight ring. The pressure a counterpoint to the fullness already inside her.

She gasped. The sensation was sharp, overwhelming her. Feeling it all at once, the toy, her own hand partially cupping her cheek as one of her fingers, then two, felt the pulse of it all through that thin, sensitive barrier. The toy sliding in and out, the individual channels clenching in response to the probes penetrating them.

It sent a jolt through her spine. And her mind fractured. The sound of Aiden's voice, the girl moaning, Matt still waiting for her to get back to him, with only one picture between them. If he could see her now, on her knees, face down, her body spread and working both hands as she chased another high... what would he say if he knew how dirty she could be as she sought her own limits?

The thought tipped her over the edge.

Her climax hit fast and hard, a cry escaping her before she could stop it. This time it wasn't muffled. Her cheek pressed into the mattress as the orgasm tore through her in tight, clenching waves. Her hips rocked forward once, then again, her body fluttering around the toy, her breath coming fast and unsteady. The arching of her back, hunching her hips in reflex, involuntarily causing her fingers to slip out of her back passage. Her hand clutched at her cheek in response as she gripped herself.

She stayed like that for a moment, gasping, pulsing, caught in the afterglow, when she heard it through the wall, Aiden's voice, rough and ragged. A grunt, a broken breath, the slap of skin slamming home one final time. Then the girl's moan, louder than anything before, helpless and high and unmistakably real.

It washed over her, thick with heat, like her own climax reflected back at her from the other side of the door.

Natalie shuddered, her body still twitching as the sound lingered in her ears. Slowly, she slid her hand away to support herself better, then withdrew the toy. Its length was wet, shining with the evidence of everything she'd felt on it.

She lay there, chest heaving, collecting herself.

Then she picked up her phone. Once more, no context, just the image.

She framed the toy, still glistening and laying discarded on the comforter, and snapped a photo - clearly in focus, utterly unambiguous.

She hit send.