Chapter 45
Chapter forty-five
Tom
The jacuzzi in the middle of my bedroom has always been my place of pure bliss, the spot where every worry dissolves into the water. Under the dim crystal chandelier, the room feels like a warm cocoon, the steam around me softening the dark wooden beams above.
I sink under and let everything go. The heat is heavenly.
Why did we even go out today? Right. Tour guide duty. Worth it, though. It was amazing to show Yosh the city. Right now I’d rather spend the rest of the night right here in my brothel, as he calls my modest apartment.
Brothel. The audacity.
I’ve got style. Personality. Those hospital white walls in his renovated place don’t say a thing about him. He calls it minimalism, I call it hiding.
I break the surface with a gasp. Lavender hits my nose. “What’s that?”
“I lit a few candles,” Yosh says, the water rippling as he steps in. “To set the mood.”
“Smells divine. Very spa. Not that it was necessary. I’m always in the mood.”
I push myself up, water running from my hair in rivulets as I wring it out. Damp strands fall over my face. I close my eyes, wanting the world to disappear while I float in the comfort of his arms.
His hands settle on my shoulders, thumbs pressing into the soft spots beside my spine. He finds the first knot and goes to work.
“Christ, that one’s been there since the plane.”
“There’s a second one hiding under your shoulder blade.”
Water sloshes against my chest every time he digs in. I grit through the sting and feel the knot slowly loosen. My shoulders drop a fraction, moaning and groaning shamelessly. Fuck this feels good.
“Better?”
“Keep going, or is this where you start charging extra?”
He laughs, but he holds all the power and he knows it. The sharp stab radiating from my shoulder proves it.
I let myself melt into it. The heat of the water, the pressure of his hands—it’s almost like a drug. Dating my alternative healer might be one of the smarter decisions I’ve ever made. Free professional massages.
He catches my wrist, stretching my arm overhead. I look up as his gaze shifts past me to the dance pole. I give it three seconds. Three… two… one.
“So, when are you planning to get rid of that thing?”
“Not happening.”
An annoyed hum says it all.
“I need it. Best workout I’ve got. Don’t pretend you’re not curious.”
“Bullshit, McKenna.”
“Ah, you don’t believe me? I’m slightly disappointed, Yosh. You’re probably picturing me eyes rolled to the ceiling while some girl in lace twirls for me? Wrong fantasy. My pole. My show. I’m the main act.”
I rise from his lap, reaching for one of the towels I’d laid out on the bed. After drying off, I turn back to him.
“Now, you watch me as you wank yourself senseless, and then tell me again my pole needs to go.”
I grab a bottle of magnesium gel from the cupboard and work it into the hollows of my knees, down my legs, over my elbows, inner arms, and hands. Last, the soles of my feet.
There’s a royal blue lace garter I once picked up at SACS, meant for Kimmy.
I slide it up my thigh in a slow glide, thumbs brushing over the lace, making sure he’s watching.
And like he can’t help himself, he does, eyes tracking my fingers as they move higher along my thigh.
Meanwhile I’m doing my best not to react to the way my own touch burns in very sensitive places, or how the look on his face has me picturing what he’s going to do to me.
“Pay attention. This is educational.”
I swing up with a clean hook, locking one knee around the pole, the other leg reaching out as far as I can. It’s an easy move to get back into the vibe. I haven’t touched this thing in months so I need to test if I’ve still got it.
Next I take a leap, twirling around with my legs bent.
“This is called a chair spin,” I tell him.
My biceps burn as I slow the rotation, still I land smoothly on the boards. I pivot on my toes, bending my arm in an upper stretch like a ballet dancer.
Yosh sinks lower into the water, arm braced on the edge of the tub, his other hand nowhere to be found above the surface. His chin is in the hollow of his elbow, looking at me a little dreamy.
I climb higher this time, hooking the hollow of my knee around the pole. With my legs crossed, I slide down in a slow, graceful drop.
“Strength and control,” I say, glancing at him. “You should appreciate that, yoga boy.”
“Never said we weren’t alike.”
I unhook the garter and flick it at him. It slaps his cheek and drops into the water. He greedily fishes after it.
“This belongs next to my pillow now.” He turns it over in his fingers, slow and reverent, like it’s one of his gemstones.
“Eyes up here, love.”
He obeys, my performance making a hypnotized snake in a basket out of him.
I press the pole into my back. Chest rising and falling fast, I hold him with my signature filthy stare. Then I slide down.
Inch by inch, I let the steel track the line of my spine. Lower. Slower. I hold the pole snug in the curve of my ass and push two fingers past my lips, choking on them, moaning for him. In front of me, the water sloshes, his knuckles white as he braces himself.
I pull my fingers free once my knees are spread wide on the floor, my face brushing the metal as I start touching myself. Two wet fingers trace my inner thighs, creeping higher until they find the center where every nerve lights up.
“Like what you see?” I ask before stroking myself, elbow still hooked around the pole. “Is this something you’re into?”
“Fuck, Sapphire.”
He rises from the water and scoops me off the floor before throwing me onto the bed.
We kiss, hands wandering over each other, heat building every time our cocks grind together.
“I really fucking like you like this.” He dives for my neck, hungry, rolling my nipple between his fingers as he goes. “Like… dangerously much.”
Without warning, he pushes me back onto the mattress and rises to his knees in front of me.
Three quick strokes until hot waves of cum paint my chest. His cry of release is everything. So is the way he drops down and licks me clean.
I grip the roots of his hair, guiding him up. He practically falls into my mouth, letting me taste all of him, all of me.
“Sapphire…you think you might want to try something different with me?”
He reaches for the nightstand and pulls out a bag from SACS. My eyes stay on the bag before lifting to him.
His thumb caresses my cheek, smiling as he eases me flat on the teal velvet sheets. From inside, he takes out a bottle of guava-flavored lube, pressing it into my hand.
I burst out laughing. “Shit, you actually found that? That’s very specific. Very us.”
“Right? Had to take it.”
I tilt my chin.
“And you’re planning to do what with it?”
“You.”
Wait. What?
Heat rushes to my face. He’s going full tomato too, eyes darting everywhere.
Sprint, apologize, and overthink himself into drowning all at once. A familiar pattern with him.
“Easy,” I say. “Breathe.”
We breathe together until the panic fades. Then I settle back where I belong, drawing slow, absent circles on his bare chest.
“I think I want to,” I say quietly. “I’ve thought about it. It’s just…”
“It scares you?”
A soft nod, a swallow of something so fucking confronting. My eyes fall shut.
He lays his forehead against the side of my face, warm against my cheek.
“I know,” he whispers, caressing the other side of my face. “You don’t need to tell me. I know.”
Great. He knows. Fuck.
His fingers trace rivers down my chest, lips kissing a line along my jaw.
“Hey. We don’t have to do this. Not now, not ever. I’m happy with us the way we are.”
My breath is ragged, but he keeps kissing me, giving me the kind of love I never allowed anyone to give me.
Every muscle in my face tightens. I remember everything.
The mattress of auburn leaves, the way they’d crumbled in my hands, dry veins twitching in my palm. Dirt so cold it hurt my spine, or was it the acorns digging into my skin?
A squirrel sitting in the hollow of a tree, its bead-black eyes fixed on me. Watching every second of it. Yet that squirrel’s death stare got me through it because it made me disconnect from myself.
I blocked it out, but It’s coming back to me now. Emily’s eyes during my silences, they weren't hers. they were the squirrel’s.
Fuck. I hate her. I fucking hate her. Fucking Emily.
I tackle Yosh down onto the mattress, the need to find his lips and eat him alive taking over.
Desperate. Intoxicating. Anything to erase her from my head.
I don’t know what else to do, she’s had this hold on me for too long.
It isn’t fair. I need to forget. I know this isn’t healthy, but he has to make me forget. Even if it’s just for tonight.
His lips are warm, so are his hands on my spine, holding me protectively but never too tight.
I try to lose myself in him. The closeness feels essential. The giving and receiving soothing the burn and holding back whatever is about to explode inside my chest.
“I love you, Yosh. So much. I don’t think you realise what you do to me.”
He smiles against my mouth. “You’re my Lionheart.”
“God, Yosh… I want you inside me.”
I feel his heart racing, the air between us turning thick and hot.
“You sure?”
I’m not, but I nod anyway.
“We’ll go slow. You set the pace.”
“Kay.” I hand him the bottle of lube.
“I’ll coat you first, let you adjust. If anything feels wrong, say it. I’ll be watching you. If you freeze, I stop. I’ve got you.”
I squeeze his shoulder, fingers curving into the muscle.
“You’re comfortable like this?”
“Yeah, is this okay?”
He hums, pumping lube onto two fingers.
“Perfect, Sapph.”
His open lips drag over the side of my face, teeth scraping over my pulsing vein.
His hand glides along my spine. I tuck my face deeper into his neck. Then comes the soft pressure of his fingers at my crease. Massaging me, gentle beats of pressure. A shiver runs through me, one I can’t hide.
We kiss, all passion and fire.