6. Under Pressure
SIX
UNDER PRESSURE
TATUM
“I’m kidding!” I laugh and push myself away from the counter to grab Lylah a glass. The panic on her face, coupled with her response, tells me everything I need to know. She was a bad girl, but I can’t let her know that I know the extent— not yet, at least.
Maybe it’s the lack of human connection, maybe it’s just my body’s simple biology, longing for the touch of someone or something other than my toys. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s roughly ten years younger than me, and being with her, my now employee, is so deliciously taboo.
Or maybe, it’s her. Lylah . Her name rolls through my mind beautifully. I’m disgustingly drawn to her quirky personality and willingness to trust me in return.
Either way, my ears tune in to the sound of her breaths slowly evening back out while I pour the red wine into her glass before sliding it over with my eyes locked on hers.
The camera in my bedroom caught my sneaky girl browsing every nook and cranny of my bedroom, and the wide lens didn’t miss the moment she scooped up my perfectly placed business card before scurrying off to her own room.
I felt it in my bones that she wouldn’t be able to resist nosying around and figured it’d be easier to tell her what I do for a living without actually doing so.
Sadly, I don’t have a camera in her room—privacy or whatever.
So while I can’t confirm her activities post-snoop session, she smells like mouth-watering sex, and I don’t think the little nap is the only thing giving her such a glow.
My own mind runs wild with visions of her.
What could she have been doing to herself while watching me?
Is she the penetration type? Did she lie in bed, watching me, mimicking my movements, thrusting her own toy deep inside of herself while she dripped onto the sheets for me?
Or is she a clit stimulation girl? Did she spread her legs so wide, vibrator pressed snugly against her swollen bud, the buzz filling the room while she panted my name, imagining it was me flicking against her sensitive pink flesh instead?
It hits me then… Did she pack a toy, since her idea of packing only meant for a few days?
I have to stop myself, because now I’m imagining if she went acoustic, or used something makeshift?
I could think of far too many things she could've used to fill herself when in need, but I stop myself.
Sadly, I may never know. Unless I ask, of course, but I don’t want to embarrass her.
I’m beyond lost in my thoughts when her eyebrow arches and she gives me a questioning stare.
“Sorry, lost in thought, what did you say?” I swirl the wine before taking a long sip, nearly polishing off the glass.
“Was the drive alright?” she asks, finger tapping against the side of her glass while she struggles to maintain eye contact. I pour some more wine for myself before responding. It’s not often that I have childcare, and I want to take full advantage of the time I have.
“It was. Very peaceful, so I can't complain much.” Another long swig from my glass. Maybe not my smartest choice on a nearly empty stomach now, but what the hell.
Lylah’s eyes take in my nearly empty glass again, then she finishes off her own.
“Another?”
“Please.” She slides hers back to me across the counter, her lip tucking between her teeth in a way that shouldn’t send a spasm between my legs, but it can’t be stopped, especially when her gaze meets mine while her plump bottom lip pops from beneath pearly white teeth.
My turn, I think, but don’t let myself say.
The wine is going straight to my libido, and I’m not mad about it.
“Did you check out the bathtub by chance? It’s heaven.” My body relaxes, leaning over the counter while I ask her curiously. I don’t mind if she did, but I’m hoping she didn’t.
“No, I didn’t have the chance. I fell asleep pretty quickly after you left, first day jitters and all.
” She gives me a small laugh before taking another sip of wine.
A small drop rolls down her chin, and before I can stop myself, my arm is extended, thumb smoothing over her soft skin to collect the drop.
Every molecule inside of me begs to bring that thumb to my tongue, to taste the liquid that escaped from her lips.
Devour the very thing that ran from her mouth, when it’s the only place my body wishes to be.
My skin heats with the flush of wine and the thought of touching more of her.
“C’mon, that’s the perfect cure for your nerves.” I round the counter and take her incredibly soft hand in mine. She tries to set down her glass. “No, bring it.”
From the edge of the tub, you can’t miss the awe in her gaze while she watches the pulsing water from the jets. There’s a longing in her eyes that a girl only gets when she’s desperate for relief, and Lylah’s expression holds it perfectly.
I drop the drain in the tub so the warm water can fill it, uncapping the bubble bath and pouring a splash into the water. The jets immediately take the suds and begin multiplying them, until the top of the water is a cloud that sparkles from every light in my vanity bathroom.
“I bet it’s an amazing,” she says to me, not taking her eyes off the tub .
“Try it out,” I say, my voice thickening from the tension while I pray to whatever gods I must that it’s mutual.
“What, now?” she asks with widened eyes, her pitch rising.
“Well, yes, I didn’t draw you a bath for no reason.” I walk back into my bedroom and pull another bottle of sweet red from the mini-fridge, making my way back to her as I simultaneously uncork the bottle.
“What are you waiting for? You’ll miss your time with the jets if the tub fills.” I’m wine-drunk and horny. I should’ve let her go back to bed and spent some quality time with Daddy Silicone, but I couldn’t help myself. The dominant part of me needs this.
“Are you staying?” She bites her lip again, and my resolve slips a little further.
“I can leave?—”
“No,” she says quickly. “We’re both girls, right? I don’t have anything you haven’t seen before.”
“Mmm.” I’m not sure who she’s trying to convince—me, or herself. Either way, I watch her intently. I definitely haven’t seen what she has before, but fuck, do I want to.
Her movements are slow as she undresses. She peels her clothing off in torturously slow movements that have me aching. My thighs clench as I watch her panties slip under her perfectly full backside, catching her rounded tits in the mirror behind the tub.
What the hell have I gotten myself into? I’m practically in a cuck chair while she teases me.
I watch as her eyes rake over her own body before connecting with mine in the mirror.
Pale skin, every part of her deliciously plump.
One leg steps over the edge of the tub before the rest of her body follows into the water.
She sinks below the bubbles, and suddenly, my perfect view is obscured.
It’s everything I can do to choke out the words to ask her if she’d like another glass of wine during her bath.