Bona Fide Baby

Chapter 5 - The Watched

Deciding that she was not going to get another chance anytime soon to relieve herself, Xiomara got up from the chair and opened the door. She left it half shut, that way she would be able to hear Filo thumping back up the stairs. The woman did clomp around like a mule.

Living in a two bedroom apartment with eight people was the number one definition of having no privacy, whatsoever.

So this was her chance. Her one shot, one opportunity - to let all her pent up frustrations loose, to come undone like the wind of a hurricane barreling through a wooden house until it blew the roof right off the place.

She settled down on the bed with its satin white sheets, her thick wavy hair fanning out on the pillows away from her neck. She felt the sexiest with her hair down, but most of the time it was too hot outside to accommodate her favorite hairstyle. Right now the air was warm, but not suffocatingly so.

Reaching under her butt, she lifted her skirt up past her thighs and shoved her panties to the side. The halter top she was wearing was a low cut, so she simply tucked her breasts out of her bra for easy access.

It was time to get down to business. She didn't have much time. Filo could come barging up the steps any minute now. Five minutes tops, that was all she needed. She hadn't touched herself in so long that it felt weird at first. But it wasn't long before she was writhing her hips into the bedding and moaning softly.

Something was wrong. It was taking her longer than usual to come. Maybe it was the environment. She was too nervous and the thought of getting caught made it harder to concentrate. Yeah, that had to be it. So she went back at it, but nothing seemed to be working. She threw her head back and applied more pressure.

Just as she was about to give up, a whistle - low and sexy - something like a catcall, registered in her mind. Her eyes flew open, only to collide with a tall wall of testosterone.

Holy Father in heaven!

She froze, her muscles locking down on her. Standing casually in the doorway was Omar. He was big, and wearing a white dress shirt and suit pants. The image was something right out of her wildest fantasies. He was looking at her with heavy lidded eyes filled with hunger, not for food, but for her.

And then he spoke. "Need help finishing?"

Holy fuck. She scrambled off the bed, and then lost her footing, landing on the carpet with a terrible oomph, as the breath was punched out of her lungs.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. She repeated the mantra as if it would somehow miraculously zap her into another time or even another place. Hopefully, she was somewhere in Hawaii right now, surfing on the bluest waters and drinking coconut water.

She opened her eyes and peeped out.

Nope.

She was lying face down on the floor with fluff in her mouth, where she'd apparently taken a bite out of the carpet. If she wasn't mistaken, her bare clad cheeks were putting on the performance of their lives. Yup, she was feeling wind back there.

Omar was at her side in a couple of steps. He turned her over and carried her back to the bed. Soft pillows hit the back of her head and she had to laugh. She brought her hands up to her face to block her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, it was too embarrassing.

And in broad daylight, even more so.

At the sound of his soft chuckle, she slowly lowered her hands to look at his face. He was smiling.