Page 81 of Worth Every Moment
Ignoring me, Amy steps back from the picture, eyes glinting as she looks around the large bathroom, all marble surfaces and chrome fittings. She paces towards the shower and walks into the huge glass chamber until she’s standing beneath the shower head. “Knew it,” she says, gazing straight at the enormous photo of me. “How many times has he jerked off in the shower staring at you? Fucking millions, I bet.”
It hadn’t occurred to me, but the image is placed in perfect view of the shower.Has he done that? Would I like it if he had done that?A coil of heat smoulders in my core, and I begrudgingly admit that part of me definitely likes the idea.
Amy steps back out. “It’s a bit weird. Is it weird?”
I shrug. “Kinda. But I masturbated on his bed earlier, so… maybe notthatweird?”
Amy guffaws. “You two are so fucked up.” She stares again at the picture. “This is from your big breakout shoot, isn’t it? How old is this photo?”
“Seven years.”
“Reckon it’s been here all that time?”
Goosebumps rush over my forearms. “We hadn’t met seven years ago.”
Amy tips her head to one side, still staring at the picture. “Doesn’t mean he didn’t know who you were.” She rests one hand on her hip. “It’s like a giant vision board. Manifestation 101. He wanted you in this room, and today, he got it. Shame he wasn’t here for it.” She glances at me, an amused reprimand in her tone. “You really did him dirty.”
I cup a hand over my eyes, wishing Amy wasn’t enjoying this quite as much as she is. Letting my hand fall,I check the time. Seb will be home any minute. I grab Amy’s hand, insisting we leave, and lead her back to the kitchen.
We only just make it before the clink of the front door unlocking has nerves spiralling through me.He’s home. Oh, dear Lord.My legs are shaking. Everything is different now. He’s had me on his bathroom wall for God knows how long and never fucking mentioned it. I masturbated on his bed, and he has no idea.
Unsteady on my feet, I drop onto a stool at the kitchen island.
It’s okay. He doesn’t know. He never needs to know what I did.Ever.
“Erica?” he calls.
My body boils like I’ve been dipped in molten lava. Guilt and arousal rage through my system; a toxic mix that makes me dizzy.I did a bad thing to a good man.
“In the kitchen,” I screech. Amy pulls a face at the sound and mouths, ‘calm down.’
Fuck, fuck, fuck. If I don’t keep my shit together, he’s going to know something up.
“Is it safe? Nothing boiling over in there?” he calls, and I can hear a hint of amusement in his tone.
I can’t imagine what’s funny. I want to sink through the floor and plunge into the downstairs neighbour’s flat rather than sit here and face him, pretending I didn’t orgasm while looking at apicture of him, hearing his voice, and watching my own fingers slide in and out of my wet pussy.
It was all such a turn on.
Amy is fanning her face, pretending to swoon, struggling to hold in her laughter.
“Don’t say a word,” I whisper.
Seb appears in the doorway, looking like a model from a Tom Ford shoot.I can’t breathe. He pauses, glances between us, and his gaze fills with suspicion. For a second, neither of us says anything, and he leans against the doorframe, so sexy that I have to look away before my pussy walks over there herself and attacks his face.
“Ladies,” he greets us, his voice deep.
I’m going to melt.
Amy rises from her seat. “Look at you, doing that sexy door lean.” She pretends to faint, swiping the back of her hand over her forehead. “I did like the tattoos though. Such a shame they washed off.”
“Sorry,” he says with an adorable smirk. “Come here, you.” Pushing off the frame, he paces towards her and gives her a kiss on both cheeks, but she loops her hands about his neck and hugs him fully.
Normally, he’d make eyes at me over her shoulder in gentle mockery of Amy’s enthusiasm, but today he doesn’t look at me. A chill works its way down my spine.Something’s off.The way he’s avoiding eye contact feels deliberate.
After a moment of polite chitchat, Amy excuses herself, grabs her bag and her gigantic faux fur coat, and bustles out.
In her absence, the silence stings. Seb stares at me, and in his gaze I read something unnervingly serious.Why do I feel like I’m choking?
