Chapter 10

Jakob

I stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts about Josephine.

What am I doing here? That's easy: I invited myself, and she's a nice person, so she obliged.

I shouldn't have pushed myself on her like I did.

Gods, I disrupted her entire day off by making her travel two hours in each direction to meet up with me.

She fed me dinner, gave me a tour of the village, introduced me to her friends, and now I'm here, sleeping on her sofa, punching her pillow, not quite knowing where to put my legs on this tiny sofa built for gnomes.

There's little room for me in Jo's life. But it's not just the sofa. The woman likes her routine. What will she do with me? Where will she fit someone like me in her life?

I'm a loner. And I'm not great at bringing in income. I can work for days creating imperfect works of art, sometimes forgetting meals. Most days, I sleep until noon. I move around a lot, always on edge if I stay in one place too long.

After I've mused over these thoughts for an hour or so, I decide it's no use letting my thoughts torture me any longer, and it's time to try to sleep. Closing my eyes, I turn to my side and adjust the pillow, bending my legs up into a fetal position.

Just then, I hear a strange noise coming from Jo's bedroom. I sit up immediately, not sure if what I'm hearing is not an animal growling. Protectiveness surging through me, I bolt to sitting upright, listening intently.

I hear the noise again, but now it sounds like something electric. Something intentional.

A muffled sound like a feminine moan hits my ears. I heard a tamer version of that throaty noise when Josephine and I kissed and petted and…oh.

Oh.

I am an idiot for not recognizing right away…

Back home in Arenhammer, I share a house with two women. When I hear the buzzing late at night through the paper-thin walls, I pop in my earbuds and tune it out.

This I cannot tune out.

The thought of Jo giving relief to herself behind a closed door with me sleeping on the other side has my body fully awake.

I feel intrusive, listening to her do this.

And jealous.

But I'm no voyeur.

I recline on the sofa on my side, covering one ear with a pillow.

The poor woman is trying so hard to keep quiet, and I so wish I could march in there and whisper filthy things in her ear, letting her make as much noise as she wishes.

This blocks out the noise but does nothing to quell the images in my head.

Frustrated, I shift onto my back, angrily tossing the pillow to the floor, and take myself in my hand.

I close my eyes and roughly pump myself, matching the cadence of my gorgeous girl's moans. I bite my bottom lip so hard I could draw blood, and I do not care. Jo's moans rise in pitch, reaching my ear like a siren song. Restraining myself from going to her is taking every ounce of my ever-weakening willpower.

She climaxes with a muted cry that pierces my soul. I come on one more forceful tug, my release spilling onto my lower stomach.

The relief may relax my body and calm my racing thoughts, but my soul is empty.

Josephine should be sighing that little sigh against my chest while cradled in my arms.

She should fall asleep every night satisfied and with words of devotion from my lips echoing in her ears.

Here and now, I vow that Josephine will have that.