Chapter Twenty-six #2
“Call Shelbi and get the apartment.” It’s a demand, not a suggestion. Fuck, Rowan is going to hate this. That place is where she hid away, where she was forced to, to get away from campus. Those walls hold in so much anger, sadness, and uncertainty.
“Quit thinking and do it,” Damian spits out.
“I know.”
I can hear his breath blowing out. “And don’t keep shit from me. You both are my family.”
“I know.”
Hanging up, I scroll through my contacts to find the shop owner's phone number. Once I find it, I tap it, waiting with bated breath, because I’m kind of hoping it’s not available.
“Liquid Gold, this is Shelbi.” A sweet voice meets my ear.
“Hi, Shelbi. This is Luca Stonewall, Rowan Arlo’s boyfriend.”
“Oh, yes. How is she?” she asks excitedly.
“She’s good. So, I was calling about the apartment upstairs. We’re having renovations and need somewhere to stay for about two weeks. Is the apartment available?”
The coffee shop background is the only sound for a second. “Actually, funny you’re calling now, it’s just recently came back up for rent. It is now furnished… Well, better than it was when Rowan was there.” She giggles.
Just to be safe, I decided to inquire about renting it for three weeks. And happily, she agrees. Now, telling Rowan this is going to be fucking fun.
With a thank you, we hang up, and I feel a little better about being away here soon. Knowing Damian will be close by.
I make my way back into the house, locking the door behind me and setting the alarm. I might be a hired hitman, but I don’t want to unknowingly let someone into my house to take me out; I like to play with fate, but not that way.
All I can do when I spot Weeks is shake my head. This motherfucker is passed out on the couch with Roxy now laying on top of him. She looks at me like, what are you going to do? “He’s all yours, girl,” I tell her, making my way up the stairs.
The room smells of Rowan, which is intoxicating and addicting.
Walking across the hardwood floor to the bathroom, I strip bare, stepping into the shower, washing off today, hoping the stress will flow down the drain with the water, along with the slight buzz I’m still under.
Lathering up my body with her shower gel, peach and apricot, knowing I’m going to be smelling really womanly, but it makes my skin feel smoother than the man shit that’s beside me.
The luffa scrubs off the dirt and brings me out of my drunken stupor.
Hanging it back up, I lather my hands together, washing off my dick.
The way my hand glides over my shaft has me moaning; I work it faster until I’m painfully rock hard, my hand squeezing the tip of my dick, before I run it down my shaft, moaning. Her face comes into view.
Hurriedly, I rinse my sud-soaped body off, step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist, while simultaneously digging in my jeans for my phone.
“Hi.” Rowan’s face fills the phone screen, beautiful, sans any makeup. She lies on a bed with her hair in a topknot; the lamplight casts a faint shadow over her face.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her truthfully, because I am.
Her face morphs, going from concern to contentment. Knowing deep down she needed to hear those words.
“I’m sorry too, Luca. I don’t enjoy fighting with you.” She positions herself higher on the headboard, giving me a full view of her nipples peeking through her silk sleep top.
I can see her eyes searching for what’s behind me, seeing the bathroom. “What are you doing?”
With an evil smirk, I say, “I was showering and started thinking of you.”
“You’ve been drinking.” It’s not a question. She knows.
I smile, propping up my phone on the vanity, my body coming into full view for her.
“What are you doing, Luca?” comes from between her pouty lips.
Dropping my towel, showing her exactly what I’m doing, “Take your shirt off.”
I watch her eyes become heavy when she looks at my dick, which only makes it harder.
In seconds, her shirt is off and her titties are on display.
“Mmm,” I moan. “Rub them.”
She moves around on the bed until she can position the phone where she doesn’t need to hold it, her whole body now coming onto my screen as she rubs her tits, palming them and squeezing. I’m mesmerized watching her as her nipples harden with her rough touch.
“Pinch them.”
Rowan smiles at me; I know she likes me telling her what to do. She pinches both of her nipples, twisting them, hissing as she pulls the sensitive skin, letting them go, and going back to do it again.
I rub my dick, “Harder.” Her mouth parts, her back arches off the headboard, as she pinches even harder.
Licking my lips, I put more pressure on my cock. Not stroking for fear I’ll come just by watching her.
“Lose your night shorts and panties, Rowan.”
Instantly, she’s standing up and back on the bed, completely naked.
Propping herself as she was, she opens her legs, letting them fall open, her pussy shining in the dim light, reflecting it, showing me she’s wet, all by my words and instructions.
“God, baby, you’re beautiful. And all mine,” I praise her.
“All yours.” She says as she rubs up and down her stomach, her index finger lightly glides over her exposed clit, swollen with need. The whisper of a touch has her moaning my name.
“Tell me what to do, Luca,” she trills.
“Fuck, baby,” I groan. As I look at the vanity, I spot it. A smile claims my face as I lick my lips. “Go grab your brush.”
One eyebrow raises at me, confusion on her face, but she doesn’t question it.
The phone jiggles with her leaving the bed, but in a moment she’s back, legs spread even wider this time, her tits bouncing with her shuffling, a smile on her face, because she knows what I’m fixing to tell her as she bites her lip, her face turning red from blushing.
“Suck the brush handle, baby.”
Her eyes widened. “Suck it?” she questions.
“Yes, like it is my dick.” My hand squeezes hard around my shaft.
Tentatively, I watch as her pink tongue pokes out from between those pouty lips, licking the brush handle all the way down until she gets to the top of the handle.
“Get it soaking wet. Take it all in your mouth,” I say while starting to stroke my cock.
I watch as she enters the handle into her open mouth, lips closing around it, sucking it. Imagining it were me.
“God, yes. Deep throat it.”
She gags but keeps going. I bite my lip, my other hand playing with my balls. Using my precum to help my palm glide over my dick.
The words escape before I can even swallow them down. “I want you to fuck yourself with it. Fuck yourself like you would want me to fuck you if I were there.” My voice is heavy with arousal, with the need to watch her fuck herself.
Rowan’s stomach rises fast with her breathing. Her eyes glued to the phone's camera, sliding the wet handle down her chest, over her stomach and to her clit, hissing when she rubs it in a circle.
“Fuck.” I sigh. “Look at me,” I tell her, and her blue eyes focus on me.
“You want me to fuck myself with this brush handle, Luca. Hard and fast, like I want you to fuck me,” she moans out, coming out more like a whine.
My eyes widen when she flips the brush over to the hard, square, burgundy plastic and slaps her splayed open pussy.
It’s loud and fuck, I’m about to come. Repeatedly, she slaps her pussy with it, moaning and wincing from the pain she’s inflicting on herself…
all for me. “You don’t have to be soft with me.
I need you to be rough, loving, but rough.
Because it’s you, Luca. I trust with my very being. ” She slaps her clit.
“Fuck, Rowan.” I watching her pretty pussy blossom crimson from the hits she just gave it, turning me on even more. My hand strangles my cock, wishing it was her tight pussy clamped around it.
In a smooth motion, she switches the brush around so now she’s holding the square plastic before she runs the circular brush handle down her clit to her opening, watching me the whole time.
“Oh, my God,” she mewls out as she enters herself. Her back is coming off the mattress. “Like this, Luca?”
“Yes, baby, just like that,” I praise her as she fuck's herself faster, stroking my dick. My ears fill with the sound of her wetness each time she pulls the handle out and sinks back into herself. Her body shakes with each thrust of the handle. Her pussy takes it so easily. She sinks it in deeper, to where only the square brush hangs out of her pussy fucking herself so beautifully with it. So deep. She’s perfect.
Her tits bounce from the force of her thrusting.
Hard and unapologetic. Rowan’s other hand glides up to her bouncing breast, pulling her nipple, stretching and twisting it.
Biting my lip, I’m trying to hold off my orgasm so I can soak in this moment of pure magic. I’m entranced by her. Her willingness to please me. Her devotion to my words and the way her face transforms with pleasure.
For a split second, I look to the mirror in front of me, seeing myself as she sees me on the other side of her phone, swollen, tattooed body, beard disheveled, hair wet, and in love with a woman who can undo me without even trying.
“I’m going to come, baby,” she says so seductively, I wish I could have recorded those words.
“Not yet,” I plead with her.
Her mouth falls open, her pink little tongue peeking out, wetting her lips dried out from her panting.
“You enjoy seeing me fucking myself for you, Luca?” she wails out to me, her words clipped.
I watch her, hypnotized, as she brings the handle out of her pussy, slamming it back in over and over.
Her legs spread as wide as they can open.
She pulls the handle all the way out, showing me her dripping wetness.
My eyes half-mast from the pressure on my dick and watching her.
She brings it to her mouth, opening wide and sucking it clean.
“Fuck,” I whimper with need.
“If only you could taste it,” she says while she trails it down her body, leaving a river of wetness behind on her skin.
Needing no prep, she slams the handle back into her wet pussy.
“Oh, God,” she worships out loud. Fucking herself faster and harder than before, if even possible.
Showing me I don’t need to be easy with her.
Telling me, through her movements, what she needs from me. Pure, raw sex.
Groaning, my balls draw up. “Come with me,” I beg her. My grip becomes tighter around my dick. My hand moves faster.
She pushes her body more up on the headboard, to where she’s now sitting, fixing the phone to give me a better look at what she’s doing, as she pulls the handle back out and pops her clit with it, trailing down, entering her pussy once more.
Her free hand grabs the headboard, holding on as she fucks herself.
She screams my name; it’s pure music. Rowan’s hand keeps up the tempo, with each pull of the handle, the sounds from her pussy become louder, knowing she’s coming right along with me, “I love you,” she sings to me before she slows her pounding.
My hand speeds up, the sensation becoming too much, and I cum, shooting it on the towel below me, catching every drop I pump out.
She pulls the handle out of her. Her juices linger on it, dripping down her thigh and onto the bed sheet. Wishing I could lick it off her, cleaning up her mess.
We both pant heavily, sated, just staring at the other through the camera.
When in the silence, her giggle breaks the void. “Holy shit.” She sits up higher, pulling her nightshirt to her body, covering up her tits.
“Don’t. I want to see them.”
She downcast her eyes and let the silk fabric fall away. “I hope I didn’t wake the dead.” A cocky smile upturns her face.
“Baby, if I was dead in my coffin, that cinematics you just put on would have woken me right up.” I keep watch of her while I wipe my dick off, hastily pulling on my basketball shorts from the hamper.
“Don’t you dare. Put on some clean ones.”
I laugh and nod at her. “Yes, ma’am.” Throwing over my shoulder, going to the closet, pulling out a clean pair. Tucking my dick in, I saunter back to the phone. “I’m coming tomorrow.”
She bends closer to the phone, her tits swaying heavily. “Yeah? Why?” Worry marks her face.
My eyes watch them. “Because I want to be where you are,” I tell her honestly. “And we need to talk.”
I blow out a breath. “Okay.” Yawning, “I love you, Luca.”
“I love you too, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I push the red end button, cutting off our FaceTime. A smile marring my face, knowing I’ll forever have those images seared into my memory.
Leaning on the vanity, I look at my face, seeing the slight crow's lines forming around my eyes, hoping I’ll be able to see them fully take over my face, one day. I’ve learned from
This life, getting old, is a privilege that many don’t get to have.