Chapter 30
EMILIA
Oh God oh God oh God oh God.
I make a mad dash to the adjoining bathroom to check myself in the mirror.
I can barely focus my eyes, but I can see that I look insane.
My glasses are on crooked. I didn’t wash my hair today, and I’m wearing a wrinkled blouse over an old camisole.
I didn’t bring any of my cute things because I’ve been wearing them for Alex and they’re in my laundry basket back in LA.
I could just not answer the call. Tell him the Wi-Fi isn’t working.
No cell phone reception all of a sudden.
But I want to see him. I want to hear his voice. I want him I want him I want him.
I can do this.
I hear the FaceTime ringtone and run back to my bed, kicking my Christmas sweater under the bed so he doesn’t see it and instantly lose his boner.
I tilt my laptop screen back, comb my fingers through my hair, and make my lips all pouty. And then I accept the video call, catching my breath as soon as I see Alex’s face on my screen. He’s so handsome. He looks so concerned.
“Are you okay?”
“Hi.”
“Hi. You look sad.”
“Oh. I was making a pouty face. Trying to look all sexy-like.”
He’s grinning. “Emilia. You don’t have to try. Look at yourself. Look at yourself on the screen. Do you see what I see?”
“I’d rather look at you.”
“Why are you so nervous tonight?”
I shake my head. “It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Tell me. Get it off your chest.”
“My ex came by the house tonight. Uninvited. By me, anyway. I told him to leave after a couple of minutes.”
His jaw has tightened, and I think he’s feeling possessive, and I know I like it.
“It wasn’t a big deal, really. It’s just…being home. You know. I felt like I’d changed so much when I moved to LA, but as soon as I got to my parents’ house, I just felt like the old me again.”
“Was old you really so bad?”
I shrug. “No. I just didn’t feel as good as I usually do now. To be honest, seeing Brent just made me realize how much I like you.”
And there it is. Saying it somehow makes me feel less nervous.
He puts his beautiful hand over his beautiful heart, but not in a cheesy or ironic way. In an Alex Vega way. “I like you so much too.” His face gets up closer to the camera and he whispers, “Are your parents anywhere nearby?”
“No. I’m upstairs. They moved their stuff downstairs because my dad has a bad knee… Hang on, let me see if I can think of an even less sexy sentence to say to you.” I shake my head, rolling my eyes.
“Take that top off,” he says, not even acknowledging what I just said. “Not the camisole, just the shirt.”
“Do you want me to take off my glasses?”
“Only if you don’t want to see me take off my shirt.”
I leave my glasses on as I unbutton my blouse. “And when will I have the pleasure of seeing you take off your shirt?”
“You first, Miss Stiles.”
I shrug and reveal one bare shoulder and then tug on the sleeves and hold the blouse up in front of the camera, tossing it aside. I’m just in an old white cotton camisole and panties now, but if Alex is disappointed, his bedroom eyes aren’t showing it.
He reaches up to grab the back of his dark T-shirt and pulls it over his head.
Why is it so hot when guys remove their shirts that way?
He looks down at the camera, lips parted, eyes hooded.
That square chin. He drags his hand across his chest. His nostrils flare.
My entire body is aching to touch him and kiss him all over.
I caress my breast with one hand and run my fingers through my hair with the other. “God, I wish you were here with me.”
I can’t see his hands anymore, but I know exactly where they are.
I touch my fingers to my lips and drag them down my neck. I know how much he loves to kiss my neck. I sweep my hand across my collarbone. I know how much he loves to touch my skin.
He groans quietly. “Baby.”
And without him asking, I pull my camisole off, covering my breasts with both hands and squeezing. My nipples are pointing directly at him, as always. I let him have a peek at one of them before covering it up again.
The guttural sound he makes is excruciatingly sexy. He’s stroking himself slowly. Like a man. Like a man who has all night for this. “Little tease.”
“Yep. That’s me.”
“I want to see you drag your fingers down the center of you. Slowly. Don’t put your hand inside your panties. You’re gonna trace light circles around the inside of your thigh. That’s good, right?”
“Yes.”
“Now touch yourself between your legs. Through the fabric.”
“The fabric is completely soaked through. I wasn’t lying about that.”
“Good.”
“It’s not good, Alex. It hurts. I want you inside me.”
“You’re gonna touch yourself for me. Make a V with your fingers and slide them down and up along the sides of your clit.”
That’s a great idea, so I do it.
“You’re so wet, aren’t you?”
“So slippery.”
“Feel better?”
“A little.”
I’m on my knees, and I start rocking back and forth. My other hand is cradling my breast.
“Move your fingers faster. Harder.”
I do just that, but I can’t help saying, “I thought you said it’s not your job to tell people what to do.”
“It’s my job to make you come, Emilia. And it’s your job to do as I say right now.”
“Roger that.”
Easiest job in the world, even when I’m at my parents’ house.
“Did I tell you to use your whole hand?”
I look down at the screen. He can’t even see my hand down there. “How could you tell?”
“I can tell.”
“I need to use my whole hand. I need the pressure.”
“And I think your clit needs to be teased a little more. Smooth the palm of your hand over your nipple. Very lightly. You like how that feels?”
“Yeah.”
“I like watching you do that. God, I want to kiss you there. I want you to think about the tip of my tongue gliding over your nipple. Can you feel that?”
It feels so good. My body jerks and I moan. “Alex…”
I can hear him trying to control his breathing. He wants to come, and I want to come, and this is absolute torture.
“You can rub your clit with your hand now. Slow circles. Lots of pressure.”
I shudder. I want to open my eyes and watch him, but I can’t. All I can do is make slow circles with my hand. Lots of pressure. I whisper his name again, trembling. My body begins to undulate.
“That’s my girl,” he says. His voice is so deep. I can hear him fisting himself now, harder and faster. “Now slide your fingers inside. Two of them. In and out. Use your other hand to massage your clit.”
I’m breathing so hard and fast. Everything is rising and falling and swaying to the sound of his voice and the picture of him in my mind.
“Stick your fingers all the way in and then curl them toward me.”
“Huh?”
I do what he says and clench up around my fingers and Oh. God. Oh God oh God oh God.
A slow-motion explosion of tingles and warmth and deep, electrifying pleasure.
I’m vaguely aware of Alex making that sound, that gorgeous sound, but oh so quietly.
Is he really not here?
I feel so close to him, surrounded by him. I just wish I could feel the weight of his body on mine. The slick warmth of his skin, the hairs on his chest. His tensed-up legs against mine, toes curling. Exhaling into my ear.
How can I still miss him so much when we just came together online?
I slowly remove my wet, wet hands from my panties and open my eyes, returning to the room.
Alex’s eyes are still closed, his head tilted forward.
I want to kiss those eyelids.
I want to kiss that mouth.
He raises his head and looks at the camera, one corner of his mouth curling upwards.
I look up at myself, in the little square above him. My blonde hair is tousled, my eyes barely open. I have a dumb, lazy smile on my face. And I look beautiful.
I see what he means. For this moment, anyway, I can see how he sees me. And I like it.
He’s wiping himself up. “I brought a towel,” he says.
“You came prepared.”
He laughs at me. “You came pretty hard.”
“I did. I think I’m still coming a little bit.”
“Overachiever. When are you back in LA?”
“Day after tomorrow. I’ll leave after breakfast.”
“Come over to my house. I’ll bring Ryder here to my parents’ house.”
“I have to take Atticus to the library in the afternoon. Maybe after that?”
He drops his head back and groans. “Your passion for teaching kids to read is very inconvenient.”
“It’s not me, it’s my dog. Trust me, I’d definitely prioritize having sex with you over encouraging literacy any day.”
“That’s comforting.”
“Alex…”
“Yes?”
“The next time I see you, I want you to come inside me.”
“Yes.”
“I mean without a condom. We can do that, right? I mean, I can.”
“Yes, ma’am. We can do that.”
“Because I don’t want anything between me and your hot, pulsing cock.”
His eyes widen, and I realize what I just said.
I cover my mouth. “Oh God.”
“Oh, baby. Did Franklin tell you to say that?”
“No. That was all me. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, baby. I can’t wait to see you again.”
We’re silent for many seconds, just smiling at each other. I want to fill the silence with I love you, and it seems like he does too. But it’s there. The feeling’s there, even if the words aren’t yet.
“Good night, Emilia.”
“Good night, Alex. I’ll see you in my dreams.”