Chapter 19 #2
Her hair was messy and pulled into a bun, her cheeks a little flushed, eyes a little puffy—but to Quinn, she looked stupidly beautiful. Soft. Human. Real.
Quinn let herself stare a beat longer than she should’ve.
“What?” Avery asked, her voice quieter now.
“Nothing,” Quinn said, though the corner of her mouth curved just slightly. “Just looking.”
Avery rolled her eyes, but Quinn caught the faint pink tint on her cheeks. “You’re the one who didn’t want me to send any drunk voicemails last night, remember?” she said.
“Oh, I’m sure I’d have saved them forever,” Quinn replied. “But no promises I wouldn’t have teased you relentlessly for them.”
“Fair,” Avery said with a grin.
There was a knock in the background on Avery’s side. Her head popped up.
“Hang on,” Avery said, shifting the phone. “I think the bagels are here.”
Quinn smiled as she watched Avery shuffle offscreen in her robe, the camera jostling slightly until it showed Henrietta stretching and hopping off the couch. A minute later, Avery returned, triumphant, holding a brown paper bag in one hand and a coffee cup in the other.
“Quinn. This is absurd,” she said, her voice full of joy. “Avocado slices? You went bougie for me.”
“I told them to treat you like the queen you are,” Quinn replied.
Avery dramatically placed a hand on her chest and bowed her head. “Honored,” she said.
They ate together, trading quiet commentary on the food. Quinn with her reheated Pad Thai from the night before, Avery with her bagel stacked high with tomato and avocado. It was the most mundane thing in the world, and Quinn didn’t want it to end.
After a while, Avery slouched lower into the couch, Henrietta returning to her lap like a heat-seeking missile.
“I should probably shower at some point,” Avery mumbled, eyes fluttering closed.
“You should,” Quinn said lightly. “I am sure you reek of tequila and rebellion.”
Avery cracked one eye open. “You’d still make out with me,” she said.
“In a heartbeat,” Quinn replied before she could even second-guess it.
Avery blinked. Then smiled slowly. “Okay, you’re not allowed to say shit like that and then expect me to get up and function like a normal person,” she told her.
“Then don’t be a normal person,” Quinn said, her voice softer now. “Stay on with me.”
Avery tilted the phone up until only her face filled the screen again. “I was going to ask if you’d come with me,” she said.
“To the shower?” Quinn asked.
“Mmhmm,” Avery said, wiggling her brows again. “Figured you’d be into the idea.”
“I am a very serious woman, Avery,” Quinn said as she set her coffee down. “I run a company.”
“And I expensive body wash and a loofa,” Avery replied. “It balances out.”
Quinn snorted softly. “Go start the water,” she said. “I’ll wait.”
Quinn stayed on the couch as Avery disappeared from view, picking her up and walking down the hallway, then the faint sound of the shower turning on in the background. Steam began to blur the edges of the screen as Avery reappeared briefly, close to the camera, grinning.
“You still there?” she asked, her voice echoing slightly off tile.
Quinn raised a brow at the screen. “Still here. Not going anywhere.”
Avery gave the camera a sly little smile. “Good,” she said, and then the image shifted abruptly.
For a second, the screen went dark as Avery repositioned the phone somewhere out of view.
There was the muted thud of something pressing against tile.
A small adjustment. Then the angle steadied.
And then—The image cleared into steam and soft light and Avery, already stepping into the shower. Backlit. Unhurried.
Her pajamas were gone. Her skin was kissed with goosebumps, her hair piled on top of her head with loose tendrils curling at her temples. Water streamed over her collarbone, down the gentle curve of her breasts, and lower.
Quinn sat up. Heart pounding, suddenly very, very alert. “I thought you were joking,” she said, her voice low, rough around the edges.
Avery looked straight into the camera, water cascading down her chest. “You know I don’t bluff.”
Quinn swallowed. “Apparently not.”
Avery turned under the spray, eyes fluttering shut as she tilted her head back into the water, letting it run down her neck and across her shoulder blades. She reached for her shampoo, flipped the cap, and poured a generous dollop into her palm. Then looked directly into the camera again.
“You gonna watch or talk me through it?” she teased, lathering the shampoo into her loose curls.
Quinn blinked. She wasn’t sure what part of her brain was still functional.
“I—” Her voice broke. She cleared it. “Jesus, Avery.”
Avery smirked, curls now rich with lather. “You said you wanted to stay on FaceTime all day.”
“Not like this,” Quinn rasped.
“Oh, but you like this,” Avery said softly. “Don’t you?”
Quinn was silent for a beat too long. “Yes.” She said finally, firm, honest. The word hit the air like a confession.
Avery turned again, letting the suds rinse from her hair as she trailed her hand slowly down her own arm. Her movements weren’t exaggerated, weren’t over-the-top. They were sensual in their simplicity. Fluid. Confident. Comfortable. She wasn’t putting on a show. She was just letting Quinn in.
She leaned forward slightly, phone clutched tighter in her hand, pulse hammering in her throat.
Avery’s gaze dropped slightly as she reached for her loofah, pouring a bit of body wash into it, and then started working it over her skin.
Shoulders, arms, across her chest, down her stomach.
She wasn’t being lewd. It was worse. It was intimate.
Quinn couldn’t tear her eyes away. “You’re ruining me,” she murmured, more to herself than anything.
Avery looked back at the camera, playful. “Hmm?”
“You’re ruining me,” Quinn repeated, this time louder. “That shower. That smirk. You.”
Avery’s lips curved as she rinsed the soap from her body. “Good.”
Quinn dragged a hand through her hair, sitting back against the couch but unable to look away. Her voice came softer now, like her restraint was barely holding. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“Oh, I think I do.” Avery smirked.
Quinn let out a breath. “You’re naked. Wet. In the shower. And you invited me in,” she said, her voice tight.
Avery stepped forward, close enough that water droplets clung to the camera case, and the view was all flushed skin and half-lidded eyes.
Her voice was a whisper, sultry and just a little drunk on power.
“I want you to think about this later,” she said softly.
“When I’m not on FaceTime. When you’re alone.
I want you to think about me like this. Remember how much I wanted you to see me. ”
Quinn’s jaw flexed. “Avery,” she warned under her breath.
“Hmm?” Avery murmured, tilting her head.
“You’re playing with fire,” Quinn said, her tone low.
Avery smiled, slow and devastating. “Maybe I want to burn,” she replied.
Quinn clenched her hand around the edge of the couch. Fuck.
“I have meetings Monday,” she said hoarsely. “I was going to try to come back next Friday, but—Jesus, baby, you keep this up and I’m booking a red-eye.”
Avery blinked at the screen. “I love when you call me baby.” Avery moaned.
Quinn couldn’t breathe for a second.
Then Avery tilted her head, eyes flicking toward the water still streaming behind her.
She leaned back against the tile wall, purposefully, easily positioning herself so that her whole body was in view again.
Fully nude. Fully open. Water dripping down every curve.
Her breath was steady, but there was a flush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat.
She held Quinn’s gaze through the screen. And then, without a word, she trailed her hand between her thighs.
Quinn froze. Her breath caught, her body already keyed up and suddenly motionless.
Avery parted her legs just slightly, fingers gliding over her slick skin, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest second before landing on the screen again—right on Quinn, watching her like she knew what this was doing.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Quinn whispered, her voice breaking.
Her hand tightened reflexively around the phone, the other slipping lower, unthinking. She hadn’t planned this. She’d just wanted to see Avery, to talk to her, maybe to flirt a little, pass the morning in bed. But now…
Now she was watching the woman she couldn’t stop thinking about touch herself in the shower. For her.
“Touch yourself too,” Avery said quietly, her tone firm, not even a question.
Quinn didn’t hesitate. Her sweatpants were already loose, easy to push down, her hand already there, need pulsing hot and sharp in her gut. She braced her phone up against her knees and leaned back on the couch, eyes never leaving the screen.
Avery let out the softest moan, her breath hitching as the pads of her fingers worked in slow circles. She was still leaning back, one hand gripping the edge of the tile for balance, the other lost between her thighs.
“You look so good,” Quinn rasped, her voice thick with desire. “So, fucking good. I wish I was there.”
Avery’s lips parted. Her head tilted to the side. “What would you do if you were?” she asked, her voice unsteady.
Quinn swallowed hard. “Get on my knees,” she said, her tone dark. “Start with my mouth.”
Avery whimpered softly.
“I’d make you fall apart against that wall,” Quinn continued, her voice low and deliberate. “I wouldn’t stop until you begged.”
Avery’s fingers moved faster, her body starting to tremble, her breath ragged through the steam. “Quinn, fuck—” she gasped.
“I love hearing you say my name like that,” Quinn murmured.
Avery’s eyes locked onto the camera, her other hand sliding up to press against the tile for support. “Say more,” she pleaded.
“I’d eat you until you were begging,” Quinn whispered, her hand moving harder now, hips rising into it. “You’d be shaking. Writhing. I’d hold your legs open while you came on my tongue.”
Avery let out a helpless sound, her head falling back, neck arching beautifully under the water. She was close. Quinn could see it, feel it.
“You’re mine,” Quinn said, her voice gravelly. “Even from here.”
That was all it took. Avery gasped, sharp and broken, her legs trembling as she came against her own hand, a rush of heat and water and release as she moaned Quinn’s name into the steam-filled space.
Her body shuddered once, twice, before she slumped slightly against the wall, chest rising and falling like she’d just run a mile.
Quinn followed seconds later, her own orgasm rushing through her like a snap of lightning, low and guttural and deep. Her head dropped back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut, breath escaping her in one long, wrecked exhale.
The line was silent for a few seconds, nothing but the sound of Avery’s shower and their shared breathing. Then Avery laughed softly, a little breathless. “I can’t feel my legs,” She laughed.
Quinn blinked her eyes open, smiling lazily at the screen. “Worth it,” she replied.
Avery tilted the camera back to her flushed face. “Yeah definitely.” she asked softly.
“Yeah,” Quinn confirmed.
They stayed like that for a while, both quiet, both blissed-out, the space between them somehow feeling smaller now. Like even with thousands of miles and three time zones, they were tangled up in the same moment. Eventually, Avery said, “I don’t want to hang up.”
“Then don’t,” Quinn murmured, voice warm. “We’ve got all day.”
After the shower they both made themselves comfortable, Avery bundled up on the couch under a blanket with Henrietta at her feet, Quinn tucked into bed with her laptop propped on her legs. They picked up Killing Eve right where they’d left off, letting it play in the background of their afternoon.
They paused occasionally to talk—about the show, about stupid work drama, about Quinn’s favorite obscure wine shop and the office romance that was starting between Bryan and Sophie.
They ordered lunch at the same time, laughed when their food arrived five minutes apart.
Quinn had pasta; Avery had fries and a chicken sandwich, she ate cross-legged on the couch.
Sometimes they didn’t talk at all they just stayed on FaceTime with the sound of the show humming in the background, not even looking at each other, just there. Present. Quiet. Comfortable.
By evening, Quinn was stretched out in bed wearing her reading glasses, still refusing to hang up.
Avery was curled sideways on the couch, dozing off with the screen propped beside her.
The last thing Quinn saw before she turned off the lamp was Avery murmuring something soft, barely audible, before the screen went black.
And even with three hours and 2,800 miles between them, it didn’t feel like they were really apart.
* * *