Page 107 of The Slug Crystal
And I think he’s cataloging my every reaction to make sure I’m interested, too.
I’m definitely interested.
"You don't have to just watch," he offers, his breathing growing more ragged as his hand moves faster. "But I'll understand if you're... satisfied for now."
I find myself stepping closer, drawn to his display like a moth to flame. "Keep going," I instruct, enjoying the way his eyes darken at my command. "I want to see you finish."
His smile is triumphant as his movements become more urgent, his composure finally cracking as he approaches the edge. When he comes with a stifled groan, his eyes never leave mine, the connection between us purely carnal in that moment, but no less powerful for it.
I lean in, sealing my mouth to his, using his shoulders tobalance as I stand on my tiptoes. His hands move to my waist, pulling me flush against him and I can feel his cock continue to pulse, coating us both in the aftershocks of his orgasm.
He starts to harden again, but instead of trying to take it further, he releases me. We stand under the spray together. We’re not touching, just existing in the same steamy space. I find myself laughing softly at the absurdity of our situation.
"Something funny?" Luca asks, reaching past me for the shampoo.
"Just thinking that when I’ve wished for a vacation in Italy, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."
His answering smile is surprisingly genuine, lacking his usual performative charm. "Maybe you needed to expand your imagination, no?"
“I guess so,” I agree with a soft smile.
Luca nods. He lathers shampoo between his hands, then gestures at me. “Turn around. I want to do this for you.”
I turn and then smile to myself as Luca starts to gently massage my scalp. Outside, the rain continues its steady rhythm against the villa's windows, washing the world clean while inside, Luca and I wash each other.
24TIME TO FIND SARAH
Tuesday,9:12AM. Luca is draped over me, warm and solid, one arm slung possessively across my waist. The longer portion of his dark is messy and tickling my cheek as he shifts to nuzzle in closer. Our legs are a tangled knot under the sheets, the intimacy of it startling even in my sleep fogged brain.
The door bursts open with a bang, and I jolt upright, well, as upright as I can get with Luca groaning and refusing to relinquish his hold. Jake bursts in first, his expression so bright with excitement it's almost painful to look at. Ben follows half a step behind, making a beeline for the curtains and yanking them open with theatrical flair. Sunlight floods the room in a blinding wave.
"Emma, wake up!" Jake's hands find my shoulders, giving me a gentle shake that belies the urgency in his voice. "We found something. A real lead this time."
I squint, rubbing my eyes, still too groggy to follow. “What time is it?”
"Time to find Sarah," Ben announces, perching on the edge of my bed with none of Jake's restraint. His knee bounceswith barely contained energy, the mattress vibrating beneath us.
Luca makes a low, disgruntled noise, his face still pressed into the pillow. “Why is it always you two interrupting us?” He tightens his arm around me, eyes still closed. “She’s busy.”
Jake’s brows shoot up, his gaze flicking between us. “Busy? You can’t monopolize all her time. We literally had a conversation about this already.”
“Wait a minute,” Ben adds. “Since when did you start having sleepovers?” He eyes Luca and me, tangled up in the bed, like he didn’t even register the two of us together until now.
I push my knotted hair out of my face, forcing words through the haze of half-sleep still muddying my brain. I need espresso, immediately. “It wasn’t planned. We just fell asleep. There are no rules about sleepovers. I think they are just going to happen when they happen.”
“Correction,” Luca cuts in smoothly, finally lifting his head. His smile is lazy, smug. “I slept here because I’m her favorite.”
I turn my head toward him, narrowing my eyes. “I don’t have favorites.”
“Except me,” he counters without hesitation, the arrogance sharpened by that Italian lilt.
“Or maybe,” Ben drawls, leaning back on his hands, “you’re just the clingiest.”
Luca narrows his eyes, and Ben smirks. Before this conversation can devolve into an argument, I lift both hands in surrender. “Enough. We can discuss the sleepover policy later. Right now, I want to know why you’re in my room at—” I glance toward the clock, “—whatever ungodly hour this is.”
Jake leans closer, his grin softening into something steadier, serious. “It’s past nine. And we’re here because we think we finally know where Sarah went.”
From the adjoining room, I hear grumbling. Marco appears in the doorway, glasses askew and hair standing in scholarly disarray. He's wearing a wrinkled button-down that looks suspiciously like the one he wore yesterday. "I overslept," he mutters, tugging against his clothes. "I was having an exquisitely pleasant dream."
