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I let the call ring out. It’s the one thing in this story I’m properly ashamed of.
I pushed the duvet off, wrapped my fist round myself and typed one-handed: I’m staying here. You stay there. Let me hear you.
The wall answered. A long moan. The bed squeaking, her breath coming in short, hiccuping gasps. I pressed my palm against the plaster as though I could feel her heat through it. I told her, out loud, in a whisper, everything I’d do. How I’d spread her open. How I’d go down on her until she begged me to stop and then not stop. How I’d come inside her, slowly, and make her tell me when.
“Tom,” she gasped, so clear through the wall that she might have been in the bed. “Tom, I’m going to. Please. Say my name.”
“Jess,” I said. “Jess. Fuck. Come for me.”
She came with a cry that she smothered with the pillow, and the sound of it, the helpless catch of it, tipped me over. I came in thick hot bursts across my stomach, groaning, shaking, my palm still flat on the wall.
Then silence. Our breathing slowed, in sync.
My phone lit up. Hannah had given up and sent a text instead. love u. busy night. x
And under it, from the other side of the wall: well. that’s going to make breakfast awkward x
I lay in the dark with come cooling on my skin, and laughed until it hurt.
Ending 6 of 16: Through the Wall. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.