Needy Nia

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#24 There are two things I know for sure

“Morning,” Khiêm says, his eyes finding mine across the room as I walk in, wearing sweats and one of his merch shirts. Every part of me is covered, but I still feel exposed as he takes me in with a smirk. “I trust you slept well?”

“Yeah,” I breathe, feeling flustered. What the fuck am I supposed to say right now? “Did you… erm… have a nice night streaming with Trystan?”

He chuckles. “So I take it you’re going to pretend like yesterday never happened?”

“If you will let me,” I grunt, taking the mug of coffee that he’s offering. He’s wearing jeans and one of the shirts I made him, looking handsome as fuck, and it’s oddly endearing that he once again only put on one sock. “How do you always get too distracted to put on your second sock?” I ask, smiling slightly.

“Oh, no, that’s intentional.” He grins. “I get hot easily, but my feet tend to run a little colder than the rest of my body, so when I want to regulate by body temperature, I only put on one sock. Best of both worlds.”

“You’re so weird,” I mutter, moving to the stove to get started on our pancakes. He made the batter, but he tends to burn stuff by getting distracted, so I’m not about to let him ruin our breakfast.

“Says the girl who took 22 years to figure out how to get herself off,” Khiêm teases, poking my ribs. “I’m allowed to joke about it, right?”

“If I said no, would that stop you?” I ask, already knowing his answer.

“No,” he says just like I knew he would. “So… am I getting details?”

“Not a chance in hell,” I reply, already feeling on edge from how close he is to me. My body is humming in anticipation when he reaches over to me, but all he does is brush a strand of hair out of my face. It’s enough to set my skin on fire, though. How the hell did I ever think of him as anything other than sexy as fuck?

“I was surprised you texted me,” he says, handing me a plate so I can put his pancake on it. “Didn’t think you were going to… erm… share.”

I put out breakfast on the table and sit across from him, surprised when I feel his bare foot touch mine. He doesn’t pull away, just rubs his foot along mine, looking down at his plate while he does. Is he… is he playing footsie with me right now?

I must be hallucinating.

“Yeah, I erm… I don’t know,” I manage to get out, looking at him in surprise. I have no idea what to do right now. All I know are two things.

One: I want him.

Two: I can’t lose him.

Those two thoughts rage within me, battling each other. If I act on my attraction to him, things might get complicated, no matter how he may or may not feel about me, and that means I could lose him. Lose the only home I’ve ever known aside from my childhood home. That would break me. But if I don’t act on it, I might still lose him. Maybe not as a roommate or a friend, but I could lose whatever the fuck is happening between us right now.

Still, I’d rather keep him as a friend than to lose him completely. He means too much to me to risk it. I have a horrible track-record with men, and I’m not about to add him to the list of men I fucked but didn’t end up with. Besides… there is a reason I vowed to stop dating and sleeping around. I’m all kinds of fucked-up, still unsure of who I am and what I want. Khiêm deserves better than that. He’d be an experiment to me, and I don’t want him to be. I need to figure out my shit before I so much as think about sleeping with someone.

Still, there is no denying the fact that he’s running his foot up the side of my leg right now, his eyes trained on his pancake as he keeps touching me softly, carefully, but unmistakably.

We both act like there is nothing going on underneath the table, and he tells me about his night with Trystan while I nod along and we both eat. Inside, all I can think about is stripping him naked and dragging him into my bed. What the fuck is he thinking, touching me like this? How can he look so calm and collected, talk to me like he’s not making me so horny I might spontaneously combust any second now?

“What are you up to today?” I ask, my voice breathy as I get up, breaking our contact so I can clean the table.

“I’ve got a vlog to make, my podcast to put out, and of course I’m streaming tonight.” He looks at me with a small smile. “I’m looking for new shit to try for my vlog. You don’t know anything you could teach me, by any chance? My viewers usually like it when I dance, because I suck at it, and I know you’re a phenomenal dancer, so…?”

“Yeah, sure,” I reply, distracted by looking at his lips move. I want to taste him, feel him, kiss him. I’m in so much trouble it’s not even funny anymore. “I erm… I think I’m going to take a bath right now.”

Khiêm smirks, and I have feeling he knows exactly what I’m truly going to do. “Have fun,” he says, winking at me. “I’ll be in my studio.”

I wait until he’s safely at work before taking out the waterproof vibrator and grabbing a change of clothes for after my bath. I read Khiêm’s note on the package, the thought of him taking the time to do all of this getting me going once again. I’m already horny as fuck by the time I’m in the bathtub, the smell of lavender invading all my senses. I turn on the audio novel again, using the same scene I did last night.

This vibrator is different, with nine different settings, and it’s one that you can slip inside of you while it still stimulates your clit. I think it’s called a rabbit or something. I’m already so ready to burst that I can’t keep myself from moaning when I start using it on myself. Fuck, that feels good.

It takes me longer than last night get off, but I enjoy every second of it. The thought that Khiêm is only two rooms away from me as I get off on his voice and the memory of the way he was playing with me during breakfast, knowing perfectly well that he was turning me on with only those light touches of his foot against mine…

My body shudders when I reach my peak, my pussy contracting around the vibrator as I turn down the intensity of the purrs, allowing the soft aftershocks to wash over me. I stay in the tub for another twenty minutes, trying to calm down enough to not make a complete fool of myself later today. I suddenly can’t remember how to act normally around my roommate.

Fucking hell, I’m in trouble.

***

That afternoon, I try to teach Khiêm the cha-cha, but it’s safe to say that he’s never going to be a great dancer. He just doesn’t have any sense of rhythm whatsoever. It also doesn’t help that every time I touch him, I feel like electricity crackles between us, and all I want to do is pull him closer. I can’t, no matter how much I want to.

After my second self-afflicted orgasm in the bathtub this morning, I made a decision. Whatever this is between us, I’m not going to act on it. Having him in my life as my friend, roommate and confidant is way more important than sex. It’s been a while since I last got some, and I’m suddenly all sexually empowered because of his gift yesterday, so of course I’m wanting to get with him. Maybe it’s not even about him, but just about me being horny.

Okay, that’s a lie. It’s totally about him.

Still, I can’t and won’t do anything about it. I’m still not sure how he feels about all of this. When he was getting me all hot and bothered during breakfast, I felt so sure that we were on the same wavelength, but as I teach him the cha-cha, he seems completely unaffected by my presence. He’s just regular old Khiêm, laughing and joking around, talking into the camera between practicing dance moves. Maybe he was just toying with me this morning, who knows. There is not a trace of that weird connection left as we dance together.

Guess it’s a good thing I’m not going to make a move on him, because at this point, I have no clue what he’d do it I did.

By the time I’ve cooked us dinner, I’m confused as fuck. When we’re done eating, Khiêm shows me his vlog for Khiêm learns new shit on his laptop, and I smile and nod as I watch us dance on the screen. He made it look even funnier than it was, editing out some boring parts so that it’s basically me laughing at him and trying to get him to move to the rhythm while he falls over his own feet and steps on my toes.

I’m sitting in his desk chair as I watch the vlog, and he’s standing behind me, his hands lightly on my shoulders. When the vlog is done, I get up and turn around, ending up so close to him that our lips are almost touching.

He backs away so fast he almost ends up falling over on his ass. Guess that answers the question about how he feels about me. It was all in my head. He’s just trying to make me a better person in all aspects of my life, including masturbation. I was stupid to see it as anything other than Khiêm being his weird-ass, sweet self. That doesn’t explain the footsie thing under the table this morning, but that was probably a fluke. A game he was playing, maybe. It’s obvious my sudden proximity just now freaked him out.

“What are you up to tonight?” he asks, scratching the back of his head as he looks anywhere but at me.

“Marcus is coming over to watch a movie,” I say, wishing it was Aimee and not Marcus I was hanging out with tonight. I could use some advice on this whole situation, and my older brother is definitely not the person to go to when it’s about me being hot for his best friend.

“Sweet, I’ll join you guys after my stream,” Khiêm says. “I’ve got some work to do right now, a new novel just came in for me to narrate.”

“Right. I’ll get out of your hair.” I glance over my shoulder one last time, but his attention is already on the screen, his hands moving through his sleek hair, and I swear he’s muttering to himself, something that sounds a lot like what the fuck.

What the fuck indeed.

***

It’s more than nice to have my big brother back in my life as not just my sibling, but my friend as well. We watch a romcom first – his pick – and then a horror movie – my pick. Marcus is hiding his face behind his hands and shivering like a little boy by the time Khiêm finally joins us.

“You should always start with Nia’s pick,” he says, settling in next to Marcus with a beer in his hand. Normally, he sits next to me, but tonight he’s as far away from me as he could possibly get. It’s hard not to wonder why that is. Is he scared I will make a move on him? Was I that obvious earlier? Does he really think I’d do that with Marcus in the room with us?

“How do I get roped into watching these kinds of movies every single time?” Marcus complains, yelping at a particularly scary scene. “How are the two of you not affected by this?”

“I’ve seen it before,” I say, grinning. “Three times, actually. And it’s not that I’m not affected. I’m just not a 10-year-old girl.”

“Ooh snap.” Khiêm winks at me, and I feel my cheeks flush, which is fucking stupid, because he’s winked at me a million times before and it never left me feeling like this. His phone buzzes then, and Khiêm grabs it from the armrest, scanning the text before setting his phone back down.

“Gail again?” Marcus asks knowingly.

Khiêm gaze moves to me for a second, before turning his attention back to Marcus. “Yeah.”

“I don’t get why you’re not trying to hit that,” Marcus says, shaking his head at he moves his attention from the end of the movie to his best friend. “She’s single, cute, and totally into you. You’ve been complaining for months that you need to get laid, and now you get this girl thrown into you lap, and you don’t even text her back?”

I’m trying to keep a poker face, but it’s really fucking hard. Gail is the beauty-vlogger Khiêm did Blue Balls with that one time, who broke up with her boyfriend because of his advice and sent him a case of beer to thank him. Guess she wants to do more than just thank him. She wants to fuck him. And damn, I don’t like that one bit.

“I don’t know, man, she’s not really my type,” Khiêm says, sipping his beer.

“Dude, no offence, but isn’t anything with tits and a heartbeat your type?” Marcus asks with a smirk. “You always talk a big game, but I guess it’s all just talk, huh?”

Khiêm grunts but doesn’t say anything. Marcus is right, though. Khiêm flirts with everyone, I remember him making sexual remarks to Gracie, Tommy, Yoah, Aimee… basically every single person he interacts with, he flirts with. Him and Jagger have this hilarious thing going on where they tell each other they’re still each other’s number one and call each other babe. With guys, it’s just good fun, nothing serious, because I’m pretty damn sure Khiêm is one hundred percent straight, but with girls, it sure seems like Khiêm is always trying to get with every single cute one he meets.

Every single one except me, apparently, if the way he backed away from me in his studio earlier was any indication. It stings more than I’d like to admit.

“You met this Gail girl, right?” Marcus asks me.

“Yeah,” I say, plastering a fake smile onto my face. “She was nice. And pretty. He should totally go out with her.” Good God, it sounds so fucking fake, but I can’t let on that the last thing I want is for Khiêm to date her. Or anyone, for that matter.

“Guess I’ll tell her yes then,” Khiêm says, his gaze holding mine as he picks up his phone. “Why the fuck not, right?”

“That’s my man,” Marcus says, clapping a hand on his friend’s back. “Now, Nia, please turn on something funny, because I can’t drive home after watching that horrific murder fest you forced on me. I need to unwind.”

Unwind. I feel the exact same way, only I don’t need to calm down from watching a horror movie. I need to find a way to get Khiêm out of my sex-obsessed mind, because right now, all I want to do is grab his phone and break it so he can’t text Gail.

I’m so fucked.

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