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Sam: AGAIN, I hit send too fast.
Sam: I want you.
Jules: You have me
I toss the phone on the counter and step into the shower. Hot water cascades over my head and my shoulders, my cock already hard from thinking about Sam and his gorgeous, peach-like arse that he showcases in perfectly tailored trousers. And his kind smile. I would like to do a lot of things with and to that smile.
I like his elegant fingers and efficient movements. I like the way he bites his lower lip when he thinks. And when he tries not to smile or show his emotions. And even more when he ends up showing them to me anyway.
I spread a dab of shower gel in my hands and start shuttling up and down my hard cock, enjoying the slick lather and scent.
Fuck, that feels good. It makes my abs tighten and my arse clench.
Will I ever be able to enjoy a shower with him?
Will Sam ever send me a sexy pic? Or video call?
That makes me harder, thinking of Sam jostling the phone, slowly letting it pan down, down, down his body until I get to see his hard dick.
I want that.
Even though it’s dangerous, because someone could hack my photos.
Sometimes I just want a normal life. Is that too much to ask for?
At the Fly by Night show, I got dizzy seeing him shirtless, his shorts low on his narrow hips. He says he does yoga, and you can tell—his body is toned and lean.
Does that mean he’s flexible?
I grimace from pleasure.
The waterfall shower casts a wide spray over my body. It’s an extravagance in drought-ridden California, so I installed a rainwater recapture system along with the solar panels. That makes me feel better about taking my time in here, but I’m still lonely. I want someone next to me. I want to live my life with the kind of passion Sam ignites in me.
My hand moves faster. With the one that was propping me up against the wall, I start fondling my balls, then press a finger under my taint.
Sodding hell.
I come, fast, whispering “Sam” into the shower’s spray.
After a few pulsing pumps of release, I’m quivering but relaxed.
What we’re doing is all normal.
I can handle it.
I hope I’m telling the truth.
CHAPTER28
Sam
My heart is beating fast—in a bad way.
I’m reading an email from an attorney representing the other side of a transaction, and it’s like he goes through life trying to be a professional pain in the ass instead of solving problems.
When I get shit like this, I have to process. If I snap back with my emotions, it will escalate, and I prefer to solve problems, not cause them.
I need a distraction.
