Oceans Apart: Book 1

by Amanda Heartley

  “Mmm, you look amazing Gin, ” Tristan said, smiling and leaning even closer. “Now cup them. Both of them. Let me see how they look in your hands.”

  I did so, hefting them and breathing a bit harder. And without even being told, I let my fingers pinch my nipples, gasping softly at the sensation as I rolled them between my thumbs and index fingers.

  “Oh, very nice,” Tristan approved. “Pinch harder for me, twist them a little. Until you really feel it.”

  Oh, God, I was already feeling it. Between my hands on my breasts and the heat in his voice, my body was starting to heat up. The familiar ache between my legs was building …the ache I ignited with steamy erotica on my Kindle and then put out with my trusty Hitachi. Only this time, I was being watched. “Tristan…”

  I did as I was told, pinching my nipples harder and tugging them so I could give them a good twist, the sharp stab of pleasure making me moan and slide my hips forward a bit. I felt like I was on display for him, like a peep show, touching myself for his pleasure so I could have mine. Just the very idea of it made me wetter between my legs.

  “Good,” he said, and I could hear him unzip his pants where he sat. “Do you want more, Ginny? Do you wish I were there? Look, do you want this inside your beautiful, wet pussy?”

  I nodded eagerly. “God, yes… I would love it inside me… I wish you were here.”

  “Mmm, I know what you mean. I wish I were there, too.” He smiled into the camera and continued, “I’d have to kiss you first, long slow kisses until your toes curl. Then leave you breathless and panting while I trailed my lips down your neck, biting and nipping along the way. Would you like that?”

  “Oh, Tristan, yes. That sounds…yeah.” I let go of one of my breasts and slid my free hand down my stomach, heading for my hot, swollen pussy.

  “No, no. Not yet,” Tristan said, stopping me. “You’re mine right now. You can only play with that beautiful wet pussy when I say you can.”

  A grin slid across his face, I was about to explode. Brad had never tried any play like this with me, so it was very exciting. I moved my hand back up to my breasts and spread my thighs a little bit wider, giving him a better view of my pussy. From the moan that came from the speakers, he clearly liked what he saw.

  “Gin, you’re gorgeous. I want to lick you, taste you… God, I want to make you squirm and moan as you cum on my face. Would you like that, naughty girl?”

  “Mmm…yes, I’d love to be your naughty girl and cum on you.” I whispered into the microphone. My insides quivered when I heard those words, “naughty girl”. I had always wanted to be a “bad girl in bed”, but Brad was so vanilla, I just got used to being the proper “good girl”, missionary style. Brad wasn’t horrible at sex, not at all. He was just…boring. I wanted to try new ways to spice things up and he never wanted to, so although I still felt a bit nervous, this was very exciting to me and I hoped it was to him as well.

  “Slide your fingers down between your thighs and touch your pussy. Just touch it, feel how wet you are for me. Tell me how good it feels.”

  I tipped my head back against the wall and did as I was told, sliding my hand down further. I’d never been ticklish, but then, touching myself had never felt like this, either. Every movement of my hand caused a tingling sensation, and by the time it found its way between my thighs, I was panting softly and desperate for a touch, even if it was my own.

  I wanted to sink my fingers inside and imagine they were his cock, but I followed his instructions, letting one finger slide along my folds, playing in the wetness before going back up to circle my clit.

  “Tristan,” I moaned, closing my eyes and pretending it was him.

  “That’s good, dirty girl. Very good. What would you want me to do to you? Tell me.”

  “A-anything. Everything. Mmm, I want you to touch me, lick me, rub my clitty with your fingers and tongue. Get me hot for you, baby and make me take it…make me beg you for your delicious cock.” I was panting, surprised at my choice of words. I wasn’t usually that spontaneous.

  From the sounds I could hear, he was stroking his dick. As I opened my eyes to watch him, I moaned at the sight of it, full, hard, and flushed a darker pink with his need. “God, Tristan, you’re beautiful,” I breathed. I wanted to wrap my lips around it and taste it, lick it, take it deep in my mouth and feel the hardness at the back of my throat. I watched him stroke himself, as I pressed that one finger to my clit and flicked it like a wanton nymph. My body needed him. I needed him.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “You know, I could do that. Make you beg. Tie your hands to the headboard so I could kiss and taste you as much as I wanted. All you could do is take it, baby. Take it and beg me for more. Would you like that? If you were good for me, I’d give you as much as you could stand.” He looked up and nodded, gesturing for me to move my finger. “Put your finger inside you baby. I wanna see.”

  I whimpered, working my finger into my dripping sex, arching my back. “Yes, please. Tristan. I’d be so good for you. So good. I’d do whatever you want, baby. Just keep touching me.”

  “I know you would. You wouldn’t be able to resist.” His breathing was getting more ragged as he stroked himself, and his eyes never left the screen.

  I was doing all of this to myself, but it was just as intense as if he were here. It wasn’t hard to imagine what his hands would feel like on my body, and I pushed my finger deeper inside and squeezed my breast a little harder at the thought.

  “Oh, fuck, please, please,” I babbled, swallowing hard and breathing through my nose.

  “Please what? Tell me what you want.”

  “I want more, Tristan...I need more. Please.”

  The little growl of pleasure that slipped out of him made my stomach turn somersaults, and he nodded, holding his gaze right there; looking into my eyes. “You want more, dirty girl — go ahead, slide another finger in, and work it. Fuck yourself for me, baby girl.”

  I mewled softly at hearing his tawdry words as I worked a second finger in, wasting no time in pushing it deeper inside of me. I had never felt so much pleasure from my own fingers. The heat, the sex, the passion, it was all because of Tristan. His instruction, his eyes on me, the tone of his voice, and the way he made sure I could see him stroking his fabulous cock while telling me what to do. I honestly never felt as sexy as I did knowing he was watching.

  “Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, somewhat breathlessly.

  “Yes! Wish…wish it was you.”

  “Fuck, me too. I’d fuck you so good, Gin. You’d feel it for days afterwards. You’d think of me whenever you took a breath. Even if you were just in the shower or washing your hair, you’d be thinking about my lips on your neck and my hands on your breasts, my cock moving inside you. You’d beg me to let you cum, wouldn’t you?”

  My mouth was open, and the best I could manage was a shaky nod. That all sounded so fucking good. I wanted it. I wanted him to do those things to me, and I rode my own fingers thinking of what he would feel like. Yes, I would beg, I would plead, I would do anything and everything he told me to.

  “I could take you in the shower. Tie your hands to the rail and take you from behind. Pulling those big ass hips hard into me.”

  His hand was moving faster on his cock, and his voice had gone low and raspy with his approaching orgasm. I wasn’t far behind, either. I pinched one nipple and then the other, the sound of my fingers slipping in and out of my wet pussy filled my otherwise quiet room.

  I didn’t think I had ever been this wet before. Definitely not when I was doing this on my own, “Tristan. So close, I’m so close. Please. I wanna cum.”

  “You wanna cum for me, baby?”

  “Yes! Just for you. Please!”

  He laughed low and heavy and nodded, keeping those entrancing blue eyes locked on me. “Cum for me, Gin. Say my name.”

  As if I would have said anything else. I worked my fingers in and on my wet pussy back and forth with such a rhythm, the white-hotne
ss built like a fire under my skin. Tristan moaned and I heard him call my name as his cock spewed out the first stream of sticky cum and that was all it took for me to find my own.

  I arched sharply and cried out his name, no longer caring who might hear. My chest heaved as I fought for breath. “Fuck, Tristan…” My body trembled with the force of it as the pleasure rose and fell in waves that left me sated and panting against the wall.

  It was quiet for a few long moments while we both came back to ourselves and caught our breath, but it only took a few seconds for the reality of what we’d done to wash over me. I’d never been an exhibitionist or voyeur, preferring to keep my private things private. But I had cum so hard on this performance. I was already thinking about the next time.

  “That was…bloody… fucking…brilliant,” Tristan said, slumped against the couch on his end.

  “Y-yeah, it was. I need a shower. Or a nap.”

  Tristan laughed warmly, a smile on his face. I could even see the twinkle in his eyes. “Have both, naughty girl. You deserve it.”

  Chapter 12 — Tristan

  I had expected that virtual sex with Ginny would make things better. And it did. A lot better. It was like something real opened up inside both of us. I couldn’t pretend she was just a friend anymore, someone I enjoyed talking to and didn’t have any feelings for. Not after watching her cum through the webcam. My name on her lips. That was so fucking hot. Sensual. We definitely weren’t just friends anymore.

  The problem was, I had no idea how I was supposed to proceed. There were almost five and a half thousand miles between us, and no matter how much we wanted things to work out (if she even wanted them to work out as much as I did), it was going to be extremely hard to maintain a worthwhile relationship with that kind of distance. Especially since there was no guarantee that it would ever change. I had even hinted to my dad that we should go back to LA and see if there were any more investment opportunities. He was a little curious why I was asking, but I just blew it off as growing the company.

  So for the rest of the weekend and into the next week, I found myself a little down in the dumps, wanting to do something and couldn’t. I sat there, contemplating what I could do.

  And the fact that her arsehole boyfriend had been lurking around didn’t help. She’d mentioned seeing him at least four times after the encounter at the club, and I knew she was afraid. Who knew what that idiot might do to her if he was determined enough to get her back?

  I wanted to protect her, be her knight in shining armor, but there wasn’t a lot I could do from London. Fuck.

  Apparently my thoughts weren’t as private as I’d hoped, because Mike thumped down on the stool next to mine and slid a pint in front of me.

  “You need to lighten up,” he said, a sheepish grin on his face.

  The thing about Mike was he was a great friend. We didn’t spend a lot of time talking about feelings or anything like that because we always managed to just “get” each other. I’d known him for over half my life, and he didn’t need me to say anything when it came down to this.

  “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, man,” I hedged because it was easier than admitting I was obsessing. I hadn’t done that since right after Vanessa left me, and it didn’t feel good.

  “Yeah, you do,” he replied. “You’ve got those lines on your forehead and I can hear you thinking from the pool table. Where I just got my ass kicked because you’re not over there helping me, by the way.”

  I laughed and gulped down the drink. “Sorry, mate. Things on my mind.”

  “No kidding. American girl?”

  “She has a name.”

  “Ginny, then. What’s going on with that?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. We’re…together, I guess. Feels like we are, anyway. But I don’t know how it’ll work out. Or even if it will. She’s amazing.”

  Mike laughed. “Look at you, Mr. International. Too bad your dick isn’t five thousand miles long, huh?” He waggled his eyebrows, and I couldn’t help but snort.

  “Yeah, so far that hasn’t been the problem.” Even though I hadn’t touched her at all, I couldn’t get the image of her out of my head. Her thick thighs spread, fingers plunging in and out of her pussy, calling out my name. I’d wanked to it in the shower more than once that week already.

  “Whoa, really? I would’ve thought you’d need to at least fuck her before you could even consider anything else.”

  Yeah, that sounded like me. Except apparently it wasn’t an issue this time. Not being able to touch her or kiss her was definitely one of the drawbacks, but it was hardly the thing that made it so difficult.

  “I don’t know, Mike,” I said, looking over at him. “I like her a lot, and I’m pretty certain the feeling’s mutual, but…she deserves better than some guy who can’t even be there for her when she needs it. She has some creepy fucker following her around over there, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t protect her. Hell, I can’t even hold her when she’s scared.”

  For once Mike looked serious. It made sense. I was sure that he’d never heard me talk like that before. “You’re really into this girl, aren’t you? I dunno, man. Maybe you shouldn’t give up. You’ve been a lot happier lately than I’ve seen you in a while, and after Vanessa…”

  “Yeah. But maybe it’s selfish to make her think something can happen here. It’s not like I can leave England. My dad would come close to killing me if I tried to leave the company.”

  “Maybe he’ll make an American branch you could run or something. I dunno. Just seems a shame if you’re both so into each other.”

  I was still thinking about Ginny when I left the pub a couple hours later. It was still early, just after eleven, but I wanted to get home and check in with her. When we texted earlier, she had mentioned a strange van parked down the street from her house, and it had been sitting there all day. Apparently, strange vehicles in her neighborhood were uncommon and she was worried it might be her ex, because he had been bothering her a lot more lately.

  “Fucking time zones,” I muttered to myself as I made the walk back to my apartment in the dark. If that fucker hurt her, I didn’t know what I would do. But there was a feeling in my gut that told me that arsehole wasn’t anywhere near as innocent as she thought he was.

  My phone vibrated with a new message. I started to pull it out of my pocket when I heard a familiar female voice.

  “Do I really look that different?”

  I turned and stared. She did look different, actually. When we were together, she’d had full, wavy dark hair that fell down to her waist, but now it was short in some trendy cut or something. It was definitely her, though. Same posture, same dark eyes, same wry twist to her mouth. She was still beautiful, too, and the dress she was wearing only emphasized her tiny waist and slim figure.

  The Mercedes was more expensive than anything she could have afforded on her teacher’s salary, and it left a bitter taste in my mouth. She lived within walking distance of her job and pretty much all the places that she usually went, so it was just for show, of course. She had always loved having things to show off. “Gift from the billionaire?” I asked, nodding at it. Sleek and black, it was something a rich person would love.

  Vanessa smiled, flashing that dimple on her left cheek that I had always loved. “It was, yeah. But we’re done now. This was just something I kept to remember him by.”

  “Right.” My hands clenched into fists, and I really didn’t want to deal with her right then. “Well, if you looking for someone to buy you a new wardrobe to go along with it, then you’re shit out of luck, Vanessa. I’m not interested.”

  She pushed off from the car and walked closer to me on the sidewalk, heels clicking against the concrete. “Oh, come on, Tristan. Aren’t you at least a little happy to see me?”

  I shook my head and took a step back. She had always known just how to play me. How to bat her eyes and slide her hand down my chest. I’d bought her plenty of gift
s before I’d finally put my foot down, and she’d pouted and tried to seduce me into changing my mind until she had finally left.

  “No. I’m not. You don’t get to leave someone and then just show back up expecting them to roll out the bloody welcome mat, Vanessa! What happened with you and that guy anyway? Did he finally get tired of you caring more about his wallet than him? Did you suck his bank account dry?”

  She actually had the fucking nerve to look like I’d hurt her feelings. “I actually cared about him, you know.”

  “Oh, please,” I laughed. “No, you didn’t. You didn’t even know who he was until you met him at the charity dinner my father hosted, and you didn’t look twice at him until I made it clear I wasn’t going to cater to your bullshit.”

  “Why is it so hard to believe that I made a mistake?” Vanessa snapped. “Do you think I didn’t miss you? Or that it was easy for me to leave?”

  “Yes! Because it was. You were here one day and gone the next; and at the next dinner party at the house, there you were, wrapped around him wearing fur and diamonds. At my parents’ house. How could you be so cold? Whatever it is you’re trying to get me to do, the answer is no. Good night.”

  I turned back to the door, ready to open it.

  “Tristan, wait. Just…can you hear me out, please? I miss you. I miss lying around with you on Saturday mornings and surprising you in the shower. I miss going to dinner at your parents’ place on Sundays and meeting up after work for drinks. Don’t you miss any of that?”

  Yes, I did miss all those things. Rather, I had missed them — before. Now the only thing I missed was talking to Ginny and seeing her face when she came. And I wasn’t stupid enough to believe Vanessa wanted me. She was looking for her next meal ticket. And I had something better, someone better. I just needed to find the way to make it happen.

  Ginny.

  As soon as her name came to mind I stopped imagining those things with Vanessa and started picturing Ginny in her place. Lying on my bed on the weekend, wearing my pajama bottoms, and eating eggs, sliding open my shower door and stepping in. I could see her in a lovely dress, standing next to me on my parents’ porch while she waited to meet them for the first time, soon swapping recipes with my mother and maybe even inspiring her to start cooking again. My father would be impressed with her law knowledge, and I knew that Ginny would charm them both.