Page 46 of After Midnight

A beautiful moan drifts out of my phone.

“And then I’d fuck you again. I’d ram that pussy until you fell asleep, then leave my dick in you all night, just so I could fuck you again in the morning.”

Remi’s breath hitches, her body going still.

Then she arches her back in the tub and groans, probably cumming around her own fingers buried inside her cunt. And it’s enough to make me hit my peak, to make me spurt hot cum all over my hand and low stomach. I moan as I spew ropes of heat all over my own skin, and I fucking wish it were her skin I was painting right now. I’d fuck her so good. And I’d take my time, as much time as she needed. She wouldn’t have to do a thing but take my dick and moan.

One last spasm sends a final burst of heat across my hand, and then I’m left lying there in bed, breathing hard, covered in lotion and cum and a light sheen of sweat. Now I’m the one who needs to bathe. Badly.

Slowly, Remi opens her eyes, and as she turns her head to look at me, her lips lift into a sleepy satisfied smile. “You’d do all that?” she whispers.

“I’d do anything you want,” I say back, and I mean it. I’ll give her anything I can, anything within my power to give.

Slouching over the side of her tub, looking exhausted now, she says, “I want you to come see me, Seb. I just . . . I want to see you.”

Her words—soft and vulnerable—make my heart palpitate. She has no idea how badly I want that too, how I try to rush through every day here just to get one day closer to seeing her again.

“I’ll be there,” I whisper, voice low as tiredness tugs at me. “Three days, Rem. Then I’ll be there.”

chapter 21

Remi

IT’S MONDAY. AND THIS WEEKEND, I felt like this day would never come. Every hour at the club dragged by, and I tossed and turned for the last two nights, caught up in dreams of Sebastian and then waking moments where I yearned for him so badly that it made my muscles ache.

But when I wake up in the early afternoon, having gotten home sometime around five a.m. from Caliber, I realize what day it is and immediately smile. And that smile just gets bigger when I grab my phone from my bedside table and see a new text from him.

Six and a half hours until I see you.

He sends a little countdown into our text thread, and for a moment, I watch the seconds tick away, wishing they’d move faster.

Until I remember how much I need to get done before I pick him up from the airport.

That gets my ass out of bed.

I shove my bare feet into a pair of slippers, pull my hair into a messy ponytail, and then shuffle into the kitchen for coffee. As it brews, I type a message to him.

I was thinking I could cook for you tonight. Any requests?

Three dots appear under my message, and when his response comes in, it gives me a tingling of heat between my legs.

Are you on the menu?

Smiling, I respond quickly.

I’m dessert.

While waiting for him to reply, I pour my cup of coffee and add oat milk and a pump of vanilla, then froth it. I’ve just taken my first sip when my phone chimes.

Then I’ll eat literally anything for dinner just to get to you.

I smile again before realizing I pretty much just invited him over to my condo. Now I look at everything through fresh eyes. I need to vacuum, clean the stovetop, wash my—

Wash my sheets.

Because Seb might actually be in them tonight. And since I bought this condo, I’ve never let a man come over here; we always either hook up at his place or at a hotel. My condo is my sacred space.

Yet I feel okay with inviting him into it. And I don’t want to read too deep into what that means.