His Surrender

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His Surrender Page 12

by Jaclyn Osborn


  He breathed heavier. “I’d ask you to put one in your mouth.”

  “Anything you want, darlin’. I’d put my lips around your nipple and lightly flick my tongue. My hand would move down your body and grip your rock-hard cock. Are you touching yourself?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Show me.”

  Remi softly moaned in my ear, the sound like fuel to my lustful fire. “We could video chat.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  We hung up, and then I video called him. As his face appeared on my screen, my heart skipped a beat… and it had nothing to do with my arousal. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to see him until then—his dark hair and soulful eyes.

  “Privyet,” he said, smiling at me.

  “Wow. Look at you.” I raised my brows. “I’ll have you speaking Russian in no time. Now… you were supposed to show me something.”

  A sly grin touched his lips. “Was I?”

  “Have you ever done this before?” I asked, settling back against the pillows and propping the phone on my chest.

  “A few times,” he answered. The light from the lamp lit one side of his face while casting the other half in shadow. “I dated a guy who traveled for work and we’d do this sometimes.”

  “Oh.” Why did that bother me? “I haven’t.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “Never saw a point in it. Why have phone sex when I could go out and have the real thing?”

  “Yeah?” Remi placed his phone on what I assumed was his nightstand judging from the angle, and then he lifted an arm, resting it behind his head. It was so fucking sexy. I could see most of his body too. “Why waste your time doing it with me?”

  “Because I don’t want anyone else,” I said without thinking.

  “Prove it.” Remi caressed his neck and tilted his head back, exposing his throat. He liked when I kissed him there, and I enjoyed doing it. He was clearly teasing me.

  “Prove what?” I asked, surprised by the gruffness in my voice.

  “That you want me.” He moved his hand down his chest and to his belly button. “Tell me all the things you’d do to me if I was beside you.”

  “Put that hand on your cock, then, darlin’, and I’ll pick up where we left off.”

  With a grin, he slipped his hand farther down his body and gripped his shaft. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’d do.”

  “I’d kiss down your beautiful body,” I said, trailing a gaze down his chest and wishing I could touch him for real. “Once pushing your legs apart, I’d slip your cock into my mouth, licking your slit as I palmed your balls.”

  “Fuck, that gave me chills,” Remi said on a moan, fisting his tip—one that now glistened with precum. “You’re good at this.”

  “I’m glad you approve, Mr. Barnett.”

  I then described how I wanted to suck his cock and finger his ass. I touched myself, too, but was mostly holding off. My attention was on him—specifically on his parted lips and the soft grunts leaving them.

  Who knew words could be so sexy?

  “I’d then beg you to fuck me,” Remi stated, turning his head to the side and staring at me through heavy-lidded eyes. “I want to feel you pumping inside of me, Jay. Want to feel your body in mine.”

  That did it. My hand moved with more vigor, stroking my cock from root to tip.

  “How do you want me?” I asked. “Do you want me to fuck you into the mattress missionary-style or do you want me to get behind you, tug your head back by your hair, and take you hard and fast?”

  Remi panted. “Definitely the second one.”

  “Once you’re on your knees, I’d grip your hips and tug you against me before teasing your hole with my cock.”

  Remi fucking shuddered as his eyes closed. His hand slowed in his stroking, as if he wanted the moment to last longer. Good. Because I was nowhere near done.

  “Do you want this big cock?” I asked.

  “Y-yes. Fuck yes.”

  “Beg me for it.”

  “Please.”

  “I’d hold my cock with one hand and guide it inside while sliding the other up your back and tangling my fingers in your hair. Do you feel me?”

  “Mhm.” Remi arched his back and peered over at me. “I want to feel you more. Want to feel your balls slapping my ass as you pound into me.”

  “Why didn’t you say shit like this when I was actually inside you?” I asked with a mix between a laugh and moan.

  “Have you met you?” Remi responded, echoing my raspy laugh. “It’s hard to think with you around. You turn my brain to mush. Talking to you like this, where I can still see you but not be overwhelmed by your presence, is much easier.”

  “Overwhelmed by my presence? I can say the same about you. When you’re in front of me, I can’t think either. I just want to kiss you.”

  A smile I could only describe as bashful crossed his handsome face before he averted his eyes. “Put that mouth to good use, Jay, and continue what you were saying about fucking me.”

  “I start slow,” I said, watching his hand glide up and down his cock. “Sinking into your ass nice and slow, letting you get used to my size. Then when I’m sure you can handle more, I thrust deeper, my fingers tightening in your hair.”

  “God,” he panted, his hand moving faster. “More.”

  “I watch myself sink into you before yanking your head back and kissing your nape. I ask if you want it harder.”

  “I do,” he answered, breathless. “I press back against you, bouncing on your hard cock.”

  “That’s it. Take what you want.” I pumped into my closed fist, pretending it was his tight ass. A tingle went down my spine and warmth gathered in my groin. “Fuck, I’m close.”

  “Me too,” he moaned, his hand blurring as he sped up. And then he gasped. “Goddamn.” His stomach clenched before his release shot from his cock, coating his hand.

  That triggered mine. I groaned and jerked myself faster, my thighs tensing up as I neared that glorious finish line.

  “Come for me, Jay. I want to see you.”

  “Remi,” slipped from my lips right before my orgasm slammed into me.

  “I liked you saying my name when you came,” Remi rasped, his chest rising and falling with his quick breaths.

  “I…” I paused, not sure if I wanted to admit it or what it would mean if I did. “I’ve never said anyone’s name during sex before.”

  I hadn’t even done it with Andrew.

  “You know… you’re actually really good at this.” Remi disappeared from the camera’s view for a few moments before returning and sitting on the bed. He’d cleaned himself off. His cock hung soft between his legs.

  “Good at what?”

  “This.” He motioned from me back to him. “This thing between us, whatever it is.”

  “I don’t even know what to call this.”

  “Neither do I.”

  What I didn’t say? That even though I didn’t know what to call us, I didn’t want it to end. Not yet.

  Maybe not ever.

  “Be right back.” I went into the connecting bathroom to wash my hand and run a wet cloth over the mess on my lower stomach. I tried to steady my nerves. Remi had gotten much closer than I’d thought. When I returned to the bed and faced the phone propped up on a pillow beside me, Remi had both hands linked behind his head as he slumped forward a bit. “You okay?”

  He looked back up and lowered his arms. “Yeah. Just… I don’t know.”

  “Bullshit. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he said as his pretty blue eyes focused on me. “Far from it actually.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I think I’m happy.” He put a hand on his chest—whether intentionally or subconsciously.

  My heart beat heavily. I wondered if his did too.

  Me too, I wanted to say.

  But I couldn’t.

  “I should get to bed,” I said, as a sudden bout of exhaustion hit. The long days
were catching up to me, and the two orgasms hadn’t helped with that.

  “How do you say goodbye in Russian again?” Remi asked. “The one that means ’til we meet again?”

  “Do svidaniya,” I answered, lying down and pulling the blanket over me. But I held my phone closer, staring at him as long as I could. He looked too adorable when he was sleepy. It made his bedroom eyes even more endearing.

  “Do svidaniya,” he repeated with a smile. “I’ll text you in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.” He laid his head on his pillow, his eyes not leaving my face.

  Neither of us moved to disconnect the video.

  “You have to hit End,” I said.

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “You have to.”

  “Fine.” I grabbed my phone and my thumb hovered over the End button on the screen. Why was it so hard?

  Remi smiled and nuzzled his pillow, his sleepy eyes appearing even more tired. What I wouldn’t give to be beside him right then.

  “Good night,” I said.

  “Night.”

  I ended the video.

  A meow came from the other side of the bedroom door. I had closed it before the phone sex so I wouldn’t have a pair of eyes watching me the entire time.

  “Coming.” I got out of bed and opened the door.

  Sputnik entered the room, brushing against my leg, and then sat on the floor beside the bed, waiting for me to pick him up.

  “You’re spoiled, you know that?” I put him on the bed and got back in it. He bumped my hand with his head and lay beside me. “Spoiled rotten.”

  I turned off the lamp. When I closed my eyes, I pictured Remi’s smile right before the video chat had ended, and my heart fluttered like crazy.

  He had asked me to try—and god, was I trying. Instead of continuing the back-and-forth bullshit of drawing each other in and pushing away, we were getting to know each other. Because I was tired of staying away from him.

  Was I ready for a relationship? No. Not really.

  But I wasn’t ready to walk away from him either.

  Chapter 12

  Remi

  Friday afternoon, I sat in the band room during my free period, sorting through the music for the spring concert. The class had voted on an “anything goes” theme where a variety of songs from different genres would be included. A few of them would be performed with Laura’s choir students.

  The solo that several of the students had tried out for that week was for “How Far I’ll Go” from Disney’s Moana. I had arranged the piece to either have a clarinet, bass clarinet, or flute to give more students an opportunity to try out for it.

  I had finally decided on who I wanted to have the part and would be announcing it during class that afternoon.

  My phone was on silent, but I saw the screen light up from the corner of my eye.

  Beautiful Bastard: Saw this and thought of you.

  He attached a picture of him holding a key chain of a piano surrounded by music notes.

  Me: …are you out shopping? I thought you were at work, Mr. Foley.

  Beautiful Bastard: I am working. But I also have to eat.

  Me: So you grabbed lunch at the mall food court?

  He called me.

  “Hello?”

  “Yes, I came to the mall,” he answered in a huff, though it sounded playful. “Ivan’s birthday is coming up, and I have no idea what to get his ass. Any suggestions?”

  “I don’t know your brother, so I don’t know what he likes.”

  “He likes sports, cars, camping, and working out.” Noise sounded from his side of the phone, a bunch of mingled voices. “Oh, what about cologne?”

  “It might be weird to get your brother cologne, Jay.”

  “Goddammit, you’re right.” He then mumbled something in Russian.

  “What did you get him for past birthdays?”

  “I sent him money,” Jay answered. “I want to get him a real gift this time. It’s the first birthday in years where I’ll actually get to see him. Our mother will probably throw him an ungodly huge party on top of it. I can already feel myself get fat. She makes so much food and doesn’t take no for an answer when she offers you seconds.”

  I laughed. “She sounds fun.”

  “She is,” he said, and then he got quiet. “Maybe y… never mind.”

  “What were you going to say?”

  “Nothing. It was dumb. Forget about it.”

  “Okay.” I clicked and unclicked my pen before leaning back in my chair. “I hope you find something for your brother.”

  “I still have two weeks,” he said. “My free time is a bit all over the place right now with this trial, so I wanted to take advantage while I could. I’m not interrupting your class, am I?”

  “I wouldn’t have answered the phone if I was teaching class.”

  “Good.” Static sounded before clearing. He must’ve been walking around. “I want to see you tonight. If you aren’t busy.”

  “I’d love to,” I said, perhaps a bit too quickly.

  I couldn’t help my eagerness. The last time I’d physically been with him had been Tuesday morning when he’d shown up at the school. Other than that, it had just been texts, phone calls, and a few video chats where things had gotten nice and steamy. I missed the feel of him. His smell. I missed the feel of his lips on mine.

  “I’ll call you when I’m done at the office,” Jay said.

  “Paka,” I responded. I had researched how to say “bye” in Russian after he’d taught me how to say hello.

  “That’s hot,” he said. “You even had the right enunciation too.”

  “I’m a fast learner.”

  “Bye, Remi.”

  The call ended, and I put my phone on the desk as a—probably stupid-looking—smile crossed my face. The bell rang, ending my free period. Students would file into my class any moment. From outside in the hall, I heard sneakers on the squeaky floor, kids talking, and locker doors slamming.

  “Hey, Mr. Barnett!” Dillon said as he barreled into the band room, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He went to the back room to grab his tuba. I allowed him to keep it there so he didn’t have to haul it around school all day.

  Lacey and Whitney entered the room next, talking about some new pop star and their hit song. They started singing it and bouncing around each other before plopping down into their seats. Others came in behind them, some extroverted and talking ninety-to-nothing while others kept to themselves.

  When Foster arrived, he was beaming with a smile. The group of friends he’d found beginning of January stood outside the band room door, waving at him before leaving. He held his instrument case to his chest and sat down at the end of his row.

  “Good afternoon,” I said once the tardy bell rang. “So… I’m ready to announce who will get the solo for the Moana piece.” All heads turned my way, and some of the students shifted in their seats with the anticipation. My gaze moved to Foster. “Congratulations, Foster. The solo’s yours if you still want it.”

  His eyes bugged out, and he smiled through his shock as people clapped him on the back and congratulated him. Though he’d been nervous during his audition, I’d seen how much passion he had while playing—something I could relate to.

  “For those of you who wanted a solo, you’ll still get a chance, so please don’t be upset,” I said, glancing at a few of the girls who were visibly pouting.

  “Foster deserves it,” Lacy said, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck from behind.

  Foster’s cheeks turned bright pink, and he adjusted his glasses.

  “You all have done amazing with the Disney medley,” I said, grabbing the stack of sheet music from the top of the piano and placing it on my podium. “Let’s start from the top and work our way through. I’d like to get it down more before moving on to the next group of songs.”

  They readied their instruments and watched for my signal. When I instructed them to, they started pl
aying. It wasn’t perfect, but they were working hard, and that’s all I could ask of them. Judging from their smiles, they were having a great time.

  And that’s what mattered.

  After class, I was packing my things and getting ready to leave when I sensed someone behind me.

  “Mr. Barnett?”

  “Yes, Foster?” I asked, turning to him. He looked… upset. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I think so.” He held his arm in an awkward stance, his gaze flickering from me to the floor. “Can I ask a question?”

  “Of course.”

  Finally, his eyes lifted. “Did you pick me for the solo just because of my uncle? I don’t want special treatment or anything.”

  I shouldn’t have been shocked he asked the question, but I was kind of taken aback by it. Jay hadn’t played into my decision at all.

  “No,” I told him. “I chose you for the part because I thought you were the best. Jay had nothing to do with it. Watching you play is a gift, and I want everyone else to see it too.”

  He smiled, and his tense shoulders relaxed. “Thank you. Sorry I asked. I just didn’t know if Uncle Jay bribed you or anything.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Your uncle is a smooth talker for sure, but he didn’t bribe me at all. No worries. He did tell me that he believes in you, though. So remember that.”

  “I will.” Foster held his head higher before bending to grab his backpack from the floor. He then grabbed his bass clarinet and headed for the door. “Have a good weekend, Mr. Barnett!”

  Smiling, I grabbed my messenger bag and locked the band room before walking toward my car. I saw Foster get into the truck with his dad, and I waved at them before they left the parking lot. I turned my phone on vibrate and put it in the cupholder once in my car and left the school. Moments later, it buzzed. I expected it to be Jay, but it wasn’t.

  “Hey, Johnny,” I answered.

  “Hey, kid. Any plans tonight?”

  “Yeah, I do actually.” I stopped at a red light. People walked across the road, some moving briskly while others took their sweet time. “Do you need me for a gig?”

  “Nah,” he said. “I wanted to invite you to one. Big Mike is feelin’ better and wants to do the show at the cigar bar.”

 

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