Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Wynter
The bathroom is nice and steamy when Ross comes in. His body is long, lean, and toned. There’s no doubt his job helps him stay in shape, but I’m sure genetics play a part in it too.
I knew the moment I saw his defined oblique muscles, creating that damn abdominal “V”, that I had to suck his dick right then and there. And his dick is my favorite kind—not too long, not too short, with just enough girth to give me a lot of pleasure.
I slide out of my panties and step under the warm spray. To my surprise, Ross moves behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder.
“You are really beautiful, Wynter.”
I lean back against him. “Thank you. I think you’re pretty handsome too.”
He lifts one hand and gently cups my breast, rubbing his thumb back and forth across my nipple. “Your breasts are sensitive,” he murmurs.
“A little.”
“What about your clit? Is that sensitive too?”
His other hand drifts down my stomach, over my mound, and one finger moves between my legs.
It only takes him a few seconds to find the sensitive little nub, and he starts stroking it in time with his thumb strokes on my nipple.
Using one finger, he circles my clit with slow, gentle movements.
At the same time, he pinches my nipple a little harder than before, and the disparity of the two sensations makes my core tighten with need.
Every time he tugs or pinches my nipple, he gentles the touch between my legs.
A whimper escapes me, but I’m not sure if it’s need, pleasure, or frustration. It’s probably a combination of all three.
“Ross.” His name comes out sounding heavy, because it feels like I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life.
Then, just as I feel the first flutters of the coiling in my belly, he switches hands.
The one that was between my legs is now covering my other breast, and the fingers that had been tugging at my nipple are now between my legs.
“You’re wet,” he murmurs, nibbling my earlobe. “You like when I touch you?”
“Very much,” I say in a shaky voice. His finger is gliding along my slit now, pausing when he gets to the entrance of my vagina.
“So wet,” he whispers gruffly. He dips just the tip of his finger inside me, swirling it in my juices. Then he lifts his hand and brings his finger to his mouth, sucking it. “Mmm, better than any fucking dessert.”
“Ross.” My voice is a needy whimper. “Please.”
“Hands on the wall, spread your legs.”
I can’t scramble into position fast enough.
“That’s it, pretty girl.” He pauses. “You ready?”
He doesn’t wait for a response, pressing into me slowly, one excruciating inch at a time.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Now hold on tight.”
He pulls out to the tip and then thrusts in deep, bottoming out. Then he pulls back and does it again. And again. His movements are rough but precise, as if he already knows exactly what I need.
His hands move around to my breasts, kneading and pinching in time with his thrusts. His mouth is on my neck, teeth scraping across my skin. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire, already addicted to his touch.
“Please,” I plead, surging back against him.
“Not yet, pretty girl. Let me enjoy this.” Our bodies slap together as the water sluices over us. It’s a perfect moment in time, passion and pleasure lifting me to heights I didn’t know I was capable of. Every stroke of his cock, tug on my nipples, brings me closer to nirvana.
“I need you to come for me now, Wynter,” he growls against my ear. He pinches my nipples hard enough to make me gasp, simultaneously thrusting so deep that my eyes roll back in my head.
I’m no longer in control of my body. It’s merely become a vessel for our shared pleasure. My orgasm comes out of nowhere, hitting sharply and sending me spiraling. Ross continues to pinch, tug, and thrust—keeping me in the same heightened state of arousal for much longer than any other time before.
“Oh please, not again, I can’t—” I moan as yet another wave washes over me. I feel him jerk and then grind out my name. We stand there for what seems like a long time, not moving, tiny pulses rippling over both of us. Finally, he pulls out and gently turns me so he can pull me against his chest.
“Damn,” I say, sighing happily. “That was unbelievable.”
He presses a soft kiss on my temple before saying, “yeah, it was.”
“I honestly didn’t think we’d end up here tonight, “ I admit softly.
“I feel like it was inevitable,” he says.
“I thought you were mad at me earlier.”
He shakes his head. “I wasn’t mad at you.
I was just frustrated with myself. Sometimes it’s hard to think about the past. I know it’s been a long time, but I still have nightmares sometimes.
I see the bloody, mangled bodies on the side of the road.
Wonder why them and not me? I don’t know if that will ever go away. ”
“Have you ever talked to anyone about this? A professional?”
“In the beginning, I was too angry, too broken. Then as time went on, I tried but no one helped and eventually I couldn’t keep reliving it. Therapy wasn’t going to bring them back.”
“No, but therapy could help you learn to live with the loss. Or at the very least, stop having nightmares.”
“I tried for a while and now it feels like it’s too late.”
I shake my head as I gaze up at him. “It’s never too late to work on yourself.”
“I guess I never had a reason to before,” he admits after a beat.
“And now you do?” My heart skips a beat.
“It feels like it,” he says softly, looking down at me with an expression that makes my heart flutter with hope. I don’t know how to respond, so I snuggle into his chest and close my eyes.
“Let’s clean up,” he says after a while. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“Noon.”
“I wish the band didn’t have to leave so early.” He pauses. “I wish you didn’t have to leave at all.”
“I have to work,” I say quietly.
“Could you call in sick for just one day?” he asks. “We just started whatever this is and now you have to leave before we really have a chance to explore it.”
I hesitate. There’s nothing I’d like better than to stay with him longer, but to what end?
Eventually, whether it’s Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, I’ll have to go back to LA and he has to stay on tour.
No doubt I’m overthinking things because of what we just did, but the truth is the odds are stacked against us.
“I’ll pay whatever it costs to change your ticket.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“I’m not ready for you to leave yet,” he says, gently lifting my chin and forcing me to look at him. “Do you not want to see me again?”
I almost laugh at the absurdity of that question.
“Of course I do,” I respond carefully. “But we have to be realistic. I have to work, and my job is in LA. You have to work, and your job is everywhere but LA.”
“I know.” He sighs. “How about we clean up real quick and continue this conversation in bed?”
It doesn’t take us long to finish showering and get ready for bed. Fifteen minutes later we’re nestled under the covers with him on his back and me resting my head on his chest.
“So, what are you thinking?” he asks, lightly running a hand up and down my back.
“I like you,” I say quietly. “A lot. But doing the long-distance thing will be hard.”
“I think most things in life that are worthwhile are difficult. Look at what your sister and Tommy went through. It took a lot of pain and soul-searching for them to find their way back to each other.”
“Yeah, but they have the money and resources to do almost anything they want. I can’t afford to fly out to see you regularly.
” I pause. “Well, I guess that isn’t completely true.
I’ve lived with Harley for the last few years, so I don’t have a lot of bills, but now that she and Tommy are back together, I’m planning to move out.
And to be honest, I’m not sure whether I want to rent or buy.
That’s why I’m careful with my spending. ”
“You’re saving up.”
“I’ve been saving up the whole time I’ve lived with her. So, I guess I can technically afford to fly out to see you regularly. But then the question is—what’s our endgame?”
I know it’s ridiculous to be having this conversation so soon after the first time we had sex, but we don’t have the luxury of taking it slow. I don’t even know when I’m going to see him again.
“Can I be honest with you, Wynter?”
“I’d prefer that.”
“I’m forty-two,” he says quietly. “I already lost everything and had to start over once before. I know firsthand how short life can be. I have no interest in playing games. The attraction between us is obvious and the chemistry is off the charts. I’m willing to see what there is to see, if you are. ”