Page 20 of Nemesis
Walking past the living room, I headed toward the side floating staircase, taking the steps two at a time. A few doors peppered the walls at the top of the stairs, and I headed for the one at the very end, slipping into my bedroom.
I stripped off my clothes and dropped them onto my bed, then walked farther into the en suite and turned the shower on.
Stepping into the gray-tiled stall, I let the icy water from the rainfall faucet spray my skin, but nothing seemed to quell the flaming bitterness raging inside of me.
Propping one hand on the wall next to the handle, I rested my forehead against the cold tile, droplets of water running down my nose, blurring my vision.
Suddenly, wide chocolate-brown eyes and dark curls framing her face replaced the cloudy image, while invisible tendrils of coconut and warm honey swarmed the shower. The sensation of her soft skin prickled my fingertips, making me ache to touch her again.
Despite all these years, Sofia remained seared so deep into my consciousness that I could still smell her. Stillfeelher. Memories of her body beneath mine, nails digging into my back, echoes of my name escaping her lips in a breathy moan.
My need for her pulsed harder, making my cock twitch at the memory of how good it felt to finally have her in my arms, even if it was just for one night.
Groaning, I shook my head to dispel the visions of her, pushing down my hard length, trying to temper my arousal at the thought of her, but more images forced themselves through.
Muttering a curse under my breath, I caved, fisting my angry swollen cock, the tip already dripping pre-cum. I leaned my weight into the wall, squeezing my eyes shut, letting my mind drift as I pumped slowly.
Flashes of soft lips parting for me, the tip of her tongue prodding my slit, teasing and tasting before wrapping them around my crown, sucking.
Oh. Fuck.
Any ounce of self-control I had evaporated instantly. My fingers curled against the cold tile as I picked up speed, moving faster, harsher, tugging while I imagined my length feeding into her. My movements were rough, angry, almost resentful that I still wanted her so much as I worked myself toward release.
I got lost in the fantasy that she was still mine.
Heat bloomed within my spine, coiling at the base, and my blood soared, rushing through my ears as it drowned out the sound of the cold water pelting my back.
I came into my fist with an illicit, deep groan, the sound vibrating through my chest, bouncing against the walls. My eyes popped open, and my body slumped from the exertion, waiting for my hammering heart to slow back to its normal pace.
All that was left when I came down from the high was the echo of my release mocking me.
When I finally stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist, I walked into my closet and dried myself off. I changed into a pair of sweatpants and grabbed my glasses before I headed back into the kitchen.
I grabbed a soda and carried the rest of the food from the counter to the living room, where files about my new assignment were waiting for me.
My hair was still damp as I sat on the couch to look over the files splayed in front of me. I studied the pictures Noah gave me last week as well as some information I’d gathered on my own.
I was probably fishing for more than there was, but something deep down told me there was more to this story. More to Olivia Morales.
Condensation dripped from the glass bottle onto one of the manila folders underneath. I grabbed it and took a sip before biting into one of the now cold meat-filledbatbout.
I was reviewing information about Victor’s businesses when my phone rang, breaking the silence I was working in. I ignored it, grabbing another file.
It rang again and I rummaged through the folders, looking for it. I flipped it to see who was calling, only to see Noah’s name on the screen.
Groaning, I swiped right to answer and put him on speaker, then placed my phone back on the glass table.
“What is it this time?” I huffed.
“Well, hello to you too, dear friend,” he replied, mocking me.
Ignoring the annoyance that bubbled right beneath the surface of my skin, I ran a hand through my hair, pushing the fallen wet stands out of my face, and leaned back onto the couch.
“Noah,” I replied through gritted teeth. “Last time you called, I ended up becoming a babysitter. Should I also be expecting another nightly visit from you?”
“Not tonight.” He chuckled. “How was it?”
“Fine,” I grumbled.
