chapter 20
Sebastian
“WANNA JOIN ME?”
My throat feels like it just closed up, and my heart immediately hits hard, like I just slammed the kick drum.
Join her? For a bath?
The thought wakes my cock up, making it twitch in my sweatpants.
She’s standing in her dimly lit kitchen, having just finished the pizza I had delivered to the club, and I want so fucking bad to hold her right now, to take her face in my hands and kiss her until our lips are swollen and we can’t catch our breath.
I want it so badly that all I can mumble is, “Y-yeah.”
Remi smiles, then starts to move through her condo. Her feet must be bare, because I can hear them slapping across the floor. She vanishes briefly into darkness, and then there’s the click of a lighter, and her bathroom becomes illuminated by flickering candlelight.
And I get a tightness in my stomach.
Is she really about to do this? Bathe with me on FaceTime?
There’s another click, and another candle flares to life, sending firelight dancing across her face. I can see now that some of her eye makeup is smudged, and she looks tired, with her hair a bit tangled and a speckle of glitter on one cheek.
Remi props the phone up on her bathroom counter, angling it toward the tub.
My cock starts to harden as she bends over the tub and turns the faucet on, running her fingers through the stream of water a few times, then adjusting the temp.
She grabs a bottle of something from the shelf beside the tub and pours a cap of it into the water.
A few bubbles drift through the candlelight, and I swallow hard.
How the hell am I supposed to handle this? Just pretend she’s not giving me a hard-on? Or does she wanna . . . like . . . ?
Remi puts the bottle down and turns to face the camera. With a little smile, she says, “Close your eyes. And no peeking.”
I nod once and do what she says, squeezing my eyes closed.
Honestly, though, it’s just more arousing, because not being able to see her makes me focus on the sounds she makes: the whisper of fabric as she pulls it off and drops it to the floor, the tiny intake of breath as she steps into the tub, making the water slosh softly.
A few times, I almost peek, and I have to put my free hand over my eyes to make sure I don’t.
The water sloshes again, louder this time, and Remi sighs. Then she says, “Okay, you can look now.”
Slowly, I drop my hand and open my eyes.
She’s reclining back in the tub, her breasts on full display above the sudsy water, the piercings in her nipples gleaming in the candlelight.
I wonder what they’d feel like in my hands, what they’d taste like . . .
I must make a sound without meaning to, because she arches an eyebrow at me. “What is it, Seb?”
Oh no. Now she’s calling me by my nickname and everything. That’s like catnip to me.
“Are you trying to murder me?” I ask.
This makes her laugh, and her breasts sway with the movement. They could probably hypnotize me. “Murder you? How?”
“With the worst case of blue balls ever known to man,” I grumble.
Now her lips curl up in the corners. “Well, I can’t have that happening. Maybe I can help.”
My baggy sweats suddenly feel way too tight, and when I glance past the phone in my hand to where I’m reclining in bed, I see I’ve got a full tent going on. I flick my eyes back to the screen. “And . . . how are you going to do that?”
Without hesitation, staring directly into the phone, she says, “I’m going to touch myself, and I’m going to tell you all the things I want you to do to me.
And I want you to do the same.” She tips her head at me in the candlelight, soap bubbles clinging to her chest and shoulders. “Can you do that for me?”
I hope she can see me through the screen, because I nod hard. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”
“Good.” She eases herself back into the tub, and one leg appears from the water.
She perches her foot on the side of the basin, then makes a slow show of slipping her hand under the water.
I can’t see anything, can only imagine what she looks like under all those soapsuds, what her fingers are doing right now.
With my other hand, I shove my sweatpants down, wiggling them over my hips and freeing my hard-on. Then I wrap my fingers around my shaft and being to stroke myself slowly, base to tip, then over my head.
“If you were here,” Remi says, voice low, “I’d start by taking all your clothes off. Then I’d touch and kiss every inch of your body.”
I make a small sound, gritting my teeth.
“Then I’d let you do the same to me.” Her eyes close, and I can see her arm moving slowly, making the water ripple.
“I’d want you to touch me here.” With her free hand, she begins to massage her own breast, then squeezes her pierced nipple.
She tips her head back on the edge of the tub.
“And bite me here.” Her hand drifts from her breast to the side of her neck.
“You like biting?” I ask, my voice gruff now as I stroke myself to the sight of her. Fuck, I wish I were there right now.
“Mm-hmm.”
“What else do you like?”
She makes a thoughtful sound and shifts in the tub, then catches her breath. I’m so jealous of the water right now; it’s getting to touch every inch of her, while I just get to watch.
I pause for a second to grab the lotion from my nightstand, then slather it onto my palm before resuming my stroking, trying to pretend it’s Remi’s wet pussy around my cock and not my calloused fingers.
“Sometimes I like it slow. And sometimes I like it rough,” she says. “If you were here, I’d kneel on the couch. I’d take you from behind while you pull my hair.”
In the water, her hand moves faster. Is she fingering herself? Rubbing her clit? I grit my teeth harder, breath coming faster as I jerk myself off.
“Then, right before we came, I’d pull you down onto the couch and climb into your lap.”
Her words make me picture that first night in the club, the way she danced on me. I had to try so hard to fight against how horny she made me.
“I’d slide onto your cock . . .” Her breath catches, and the water trembles around her. “And I’d ride you slow. I’d take you deep.”
I’m so hard now, it won’t take much more for me to blow my load. I’m already leaking precum all over my hand.
But then Remi peeks one eye open and glances at the camera to say, “What would you do to me?”
Fuck.
I feel like she just put me on the spot. For a second, I scramble to try to remember how to use actual words. Then I finally say, “I’d grab your ass in my hands, slam you down in my lap.”
She moans softly, then whispers, “You’d want to do me hard?”
“I want to do you in all the ways. But right now, I couldn’t control myself.”
She closes her eye again. “Keep going.” Her voice is breathless.
I resume stroking myself. “I’d bury myself inside you and suck your perfect tits and bite down on them until you came all over my dick.”
Remi is breathing harder, her brow furrowed as she works herself.
“And then I’d fill you up with my cum.” As I speak, more precum leaks from my tip and down over my fingers. “I’d keep fucking you, and then I’d watch as it dripped out of your tight little cunt.”
A beautiful moan drifts out of my phone.
“And then I’d fuck you again. I’d ram that pussy until you fell asleep, then leave my dick in you all night, just so I could fuck you again in the morning.”
Remi’s breath hitches, her body going still.
Then she arches her back in the tub and groans, probably cumming around her own fingers buried inside her cunt.
And it’s enough to make me hit my peak, to make me spurt hot cum all over my hand and low stomach.
I moan as I spew ropes of heat all over my own skin, and I fucking wish it were her skin I was painting right now.
I’d fuck her so good. And I’d take my time, as much time as she needed.
She wouldn’t have to do a thing but take my dick and moan.
One last spasm sends a final burst of heat across my hand, and then I’m left lying there in bed, breathing hard, covered in lotion and cum and a light sheen of sweat. Now I’m the one who needs to bathe. Badly.
Slowly, Remi opens her eyes, and as she turns her head to look at me, her lips lift into a sleepy satisfied smile. “You’d do all that?” she whispers.
“I’d do anything you want,” I say back, and I mean it. I’ll give her anything I can, anything within my power to give.
Slouching over the side of her tub, looking exhausted now, she says, “I want you to come see me, Seb. I just . . . I want to see you.”
Her words—soft and vulnerable—make my heart palpitate. She has no idea how badly I want that too, how I try to rush through every day here just to get one day closer to seeing her again.
“I’ll be there,” I whisper, voice low as tiredness tugs at me. “Three days, Rem. Then I’ll be there.”