Touchstone

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Touchstone Page 14

by Karen Stivali


  I made my way to the tub, gaze trailing from his lusty eyes to his impressive erection and back. He was unfairly sexy. Kegel, Kegel, Kegel. I was so close to coming it took tremendous restraint not to just rub my clit and get it over with, but waiting made it hotter. Sam made it hotter. And I wanted his touch, not my own.

  When I got to the tub, I undid the tie of my robe, gave it a playful burlesque-y spin, then let the whole thing slither to the tile floor. Sam’s eyes darkened and the arm that had been lazily draped over the edge of the tub reached for me. The feel of his warm hand sliding up my thigh threatened to undo me, more so when he reached the apex and drew his fingers against me.

  “You’re so fucking wet.”

  I rocked against his hand. “Have you seen how sexy you look jerking off?”

  A devilish grin curved his lips. “I have. I just didn’t know you’d be so into it. Come here.”

  “In the tub?”

  “In the tub.”

  He took his hand off me, and I instantly missed his touch. My legs shook, but I stepped into the tub. The water was the perfect temperature, not too hot, not too cold. As I lowered myself, he stopped me.

  “Sit on the edge.” He took the rolled-up towel from behind his head and draped it on the curved porcelain rim.

  I sat, and he shifted in the tub so he was directly in front of me. His gaze locked on mine as he kissed my knees, then slowly spread them and kissed his way up my thigh.

  “Fuck.” My voice was barely a whisper.

  “Later. I’m busy.” He murmured the words against my skin, and I could feel the smile on his lips.

  I spread my legs wider, bracing myself against the cool tiled wall. Sam’s tongue flicked against my swollen clit, teasing me until I whined. I planted one hand in his soft hair and the other on my breast, circling my nipple in sync with his tongue’s spirals.

  “Sam…” I breathed his name, and he groaned, the vibration heightening…everything. “Oh god, don’t stop.”

  He licked and sucked and twirled, fingers sinking into my hip, warm water splattering my thigh, until I couldn’t hold out another second. Pleasure coursed through me, pulsing deep inside me with a hot rush. My scalp and fingers tingled.

  Sam kissed his way up my body, easing me into the warm bathwater with him.

  “You certainly know how to unwind a girl after a long day at work.”

  “Just one of the many services I happily provide.”

  “I am not getting myself banned from Yelp for mentioning that one.”

  He laughed, shifting so he was behind me. “Lie back.”

  “I can’t. My hair smells gross. Like chicken wings and grease.”

  I felt his heavy sigh against my shoulder. “You smell fine, but I’ll happily wash your hair if that’ll make you feel better.”

  “Are you serious?” I craned my neck to look at him.

  “What? You don’t like having someone wash your hair?”

  I shrugged. “Other than when I get a haircut, which is once in a blue moon, I’ve never had anyone wash my hair.”

  “Well then, I think it’s about time you had the full treatment.” His fingers worked at undoing my ponytail. “Yes?”

  “Okay.”

  “Tilt your head back.”

  I did, feeling my hair dip into the water. Sam reached for a ceramic cup alongside the glowing crystals. He filled it with water then gently poured it over the rest of my hair.

  “Temperature okay?”

  “Perfect.” I closed my eyes and the flickering candlelight danced behind my eyelids. The scent of sweet almond oil filled the air as Sam’s fingers began massaging my scalp. “That smells amazing.”

  “I love this stuff. It’s all natural and super gentle. Just relax and breathe it in.”

  He didn’t have to tell me to relax. The tension I’d felt earlier had been whisked away, first by that mind-numbing orgasm and now by his mesmerizing fingertips. He massaged, combing his fingers down my long tresses, somehow managing not to snag or pull a single hair.

  More warm water cascaded over me as he rinsed it all away. Then he eased me back so I reclined against him, his erection nuzzling my back. His arms curled around my ribs, and I linked my fingers through his. That feeling returned. The one I got whenever we made love. Like we were two parts of a whole. Puzzle pieces. Made to fit together. The thought should have panicked me, but I waited and the panic didn’t come. Only stillness and peace as the water licked around us.

  26

  Sam

  Lounging in the tub with Phoebe felt heavenly. Washing her hair, massaging her back, her legs, her breasts. The taste of her lingering on my tongue. I’d been hard nearly the entire time, and I didn’t even care if I got off or not. I just wanted to keep touching her.

  “I’m getting pruny.” She wiggled her wrinkled finger pads in front of me.

  “Be careful standing up. The oils can make the bottom of the tub a little slick.” I stood first and then held her hand as she rose, looking like a goddess, wet and glistening. I pulled the plug to drain the tub. “Want to shower the oils off?”

  “Sure.”

  I tugged the shower curtain around its track.

  “This whole bathroom is so amazing. I’ve never seen a rainfall showerhead coming out of the ceiling like that.”

  “You have to be a little creative when you’re remodeling these old houses, but you can make them exactly as you want them.”

  She wrapped her arms around my waist, grinding her slick body against mine as I turned on the shower. “It’ll warm up fast.”

  We stood just beyond the spray and she slipped her hand between us, stroking my cock. I pumped myself into her hand, more than happy to finish that way. But she stilled her fist, rubbing her thumb just below my head in a way that drove me wild.

  “It was awfully hot watching you touch yourself.”

  Precum pulsed out of my swollen tip. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Her eyes were dark and sultry as she chewed on her lower lip.

  “Are you saying you like to watch?”

  She nodded, her thumb slicking back and forth across my tip as she reached for my hand and brought it straight to my erection. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”

  A primal, growl-like sound rumbled out of me as she wrapped my hand around my dick. She stepped back, under the waterfall spray, tilting her head back to rinse her hair, causing water to cascade over her breasts. Fuck. I pumped into my fist, unable to take my eyes off her.

  “So hot.” She barely whispered the words, but they echoed through me, turning me on even more. I leaned back against the tiles, widening my stance, jacking faster, the heated look in her eyes propelling me toward oblivion.

  “Fuck. Phoebe.” I hadn’t jerked off in front of anyone in years. I’d forgotten how it felt to be watched. My fist twisted around my head, drawing out the last seconds of torture before I couldn’t take it anymore and went back to long, slow strokes until I busted. Thick, white spurts splattered my chest and my abs as Phoebe stepped toward me, snaking her fingers through my hair and pulling me down for a kiss, crushing herself against my mess.

  She walked us both under the spray, her tongue twirling around mine, keeping the delicious oblivion of my orgasm going. As my pulse slowed, I came up for air.

  Phoebe gave a sly smile. “That’s the most fun I’ve had in a tub since someone gave me soap crayons for my birthday when I was ten.”

  I chuckled. I’d had a set of those myself. “What did you draw?”

  “Rainbows. Flowers. I wasn’t a very creative kid.”

  I grabbed the bar of soap and lathered my hands, soaping us both. “Well, you’re a very creative adult.”

  “I’d probably still draw soap rainbows.”

  “Nothing wrong with that.” I wished I had soap crayons to draw on her. But it was probably for the best that I didn’t, because I’d do some dumbass thing like write “I heart U” or some shit. And I wasn’t sure how she’d take that.


  We rinsed off, dried off, and walked into the kitchen to find Puck attempting to open the garbage can. I picked him up. “Dude. Chicken bones will make you choke. You’ve gotta give up this obsession.”

  “Poor kitty. No one feeds him.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes. Poor deprived kitty. Bacon for breakfast, canned food twice a day, round the clock dry food, and all sorts of other treats. It’s a wonder he hasn’t perished under these harsh conditions.”

  She scratched behind Puck’s ears, and his motor roared louder. “I don’t know, Puck. He’s got a point there.”

  He rubbed his face on her hands, then started licking her arm. “He’s marking you.”

  “Jealous?” She rubbed under his chin.

  “No. Well, maybe. I mean, he’s a pretty cute dude.”

  Her lips curled into a ridiculously sexy smile. “He’s very cute.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  She kept a straight face and shrugged.

  “I guess I better up my game, then.” I set Puck down on the counter and pulled Phoebe into a kiss.

  Her lips parted instantly, her tongue in perfect rhythm with mine as we breathed each other’s breaths. I closed with two soft kisses before pulling back to look at her.

  She smoothed her fingers against my scruff, brow furrowed. “Hmmm…I don’t know. He’s definitely softer, but you’re much better with your tongue.”

  Laughter poured out of me, and she giggled too, vibrating against me, her eyes sparkling. The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I love you, Phoebe.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes almost comically wide, then she closed the gap between us, kissing me with enough passion I nearly lost my balance. She hadn’t said it back, but the kiss said enough. For now.

  27

  Phoebe

  It was one thing to freak out over the fact that I’d realized I loved Sam. It was an entirely different thing to freak out over the fact that, holy fucking hell, he loved me too. And he’d said it out loud.

  But I hadn’t said it back.

  I cringed every time I thought about it. I’d kissed him. I’d gone up to bed with him. I’d fallen asleep in his arms. But I hadn’t managed to say those three little words to him, even though they were repeating in my mind like a goddamn earworm.

  Why am I like this?

  Sam got up at the crack of dawn to drive down to Boston to pick up some sort of specialty shipment. He’d told me what it was, but I’d only half listened because all I could think about was how I was probably screwing up the best relationship—the only real relationship—I’d ever had. Potentially ever would have.

  Now I was due at his grandmother’s house for a lesson in making pie crust. I could have driven over, but I thought maybe the fresh air and walk would help clear my mind. It wasn’t working.

  That didn’t stop me from noticing how beautiful everything looked. I’d been in Vermont over a month and not a day went by that I didn’t stop at least once in awe of how beautiful everything was. The majestic trees. The charming rock walls. The colorful cloth spinners in people’s yards. Metal garden art, flower gardens, creative uses of gnome statues…

  Every day I noticed something I hadn’t noticed before. I’d gone from feeling like I didn’t fit in at all to wondering how I’d lived my whole life without knowing how wonderful it was here.

  I plodded up Rose’s driveway, trying to get my head in cooking mode. I seriously did want to learn her pie crust secrets. I had an idea for pot pie stuffed with Barclay stout-braised pot roast and root vegetables that worked great with a filo crust, but I wanted a real classic pie crust for desserts and maybe some seasonal quiches, or even Iris’s tourtière if she’d give me the recipe.

  Rose greeted me at her side door with a smile and a hug, and although the smile was still in place when she let go, I could tell she sensed something was up with me. Sam had told me she was an empath, and I hoped like hell that didn’t make her a mind reader too. I didn’t know her well, but it was crystal clear how much she loved Sam, and I didn’t want her worrying that I was going to break his heart.

  Please don’t let me break his heart.

  Even thinking those words made my own heart clench and ache, as if it wouldn’t be possible for me to hurt him without hurting myself. The thought absolutely terrified me.

  I followed Rose into her massive kitchen. A giant cluster of hydrangeas sat on the counter. “So beautiful.”

  “Sam mentioned they’re your favorites. I’ve always loved them too.”

  She had a canister of flour and a pitcher of ice water on her counter, clearly ready to start the pastry lesson, but she seemed to be in no rush to begin. She eyed me and then smiled again. “Would you like some tea? I have sun tea or I can put on the kettle.”

  “Sun tea would be great, thank you. Oh, and I brought you something.” I fished around in my oversize purse and pulled out a Mason jar I’d wrapped with a blue ribbon. “Sam told me you had a thing for ginger and I candied some the other day.”

  Her eyes lit up, making her resemblance to Sam more noticeable. “I’ll be hiding that from Iris or she’ll eat it all.”

  I laughed. “I’d be happy to bring a jar for her too.”

  “I will never say no to candied ginger.” She unscrewed the lid, plucked out a piece and popped it into her mouth. “Delicious. Were you making it for something at Speakeasy?”

  “I’m using it in my ginger-plum sauce and probably in some of the desserts, but I haven’t quite settled on the dessert menu yet.”

  “Some of the gals Iris and I play cards with said they were at the bar the other night and they got to try some sort of mini burgers. They couldn’t stop raving about them.”

  I perked up hearing that. “Oh, wonderful. I have a whole array of sliders. I wonder if they tried the pulled pork or the lamb burgers.”

  “Lamb. That’s what she said. Something about whipped feta?”

  I nodded. “I’m glad they were a hit.”

  “According to Sam, everything you make is amazing.”

  Sam. He loves me, so of course he’d say that. He loves me. Oh god. “Sam may be a teensy bit biased.”

  She patted my hand. “Sam adores you, no doubt, but he’s also incapable of lying. And he raves about your cooking.”

  Incapable of lying. Good to know. Scary as fuck. He loves me. Rose took two glasses from her cupboard and filled them with ice and sun tea. Sugar and quartered lemons were already on the counter, but I opted to drink it straight.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, dear.” She squinted at me. “If you don’t mind my asking, are you all right? You can absolutely tell me to mind my own business, but I’m sensing something’s bothering you. I’m a good listener.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure you are. Sam’s told me so many times how wonderful you’ve always been to him.”

  She waved her hand. “Raising Sam was as easy as breathing. He’s a gentle soul. Stubborn at times, but I can’t hold traits he gets from me against him, now can I?”

  I chuckled, but my heart wasn’t in it. My heart was frozen. Stuck inside my chest, scared to even beat normally.

  Rose’s hand returned to mine. “Dear, you’re radiating so much tension, I’m surprised you’re able to sit still. It’s vibrating all around you. You don’t have to say a word if you don’t want to, but can I teach you a simple technique that might help you feel better?”

  I was willing to try pretty much whatever she had in mind. “Okay.”

  “Good.” She stroked the top of my hand with her soft, delicate fingers. “Let’s start with a good cleansing breath. In through your nose.”

  I watched as she breathed in, trying to copy her.

  “Then out through your mouth.” She made a little “ahhhh” sound as she exhaled.

  I breathed out in silence.

  “Oh my. We’re going to have to do a little better than that. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Here.” She held out her
hands, palms up, and I tentatively placed my hands on hers. Warmth tingled up my arms and she smiled. “Relax.”

  Her eyes closed and a stillness came over her. I swore the calm radiated into my body. My thoughts stopped racing. My shoulders dropped.

  “Good.” She opened her eyes with a smile, the same silver as Sam’s eyes twinkling at me from beneath her wrinkled lids. “When was the last time you let yourself just feel?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have tremendous energy, but you’re using so much of it to create a force field around yourself. What are you trying so hard to protect yourself from?”

  Whoa. “Uhh...I don’t know. I guess I just don’t like being hurt, so I’ve learned to try to avoid feeling too much.” Not that it’s working.

  Her lips twitched into another smile as if she’d heard my unspoken words. Had she?

  “It’s fine to protect yourself. Self-preservation is necessary. But when you block yourself from feeling, you don’t just block out the pain, you block out all the good things too.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes so quickly, I gasped, swallowing and blinking rapidly to keep them at bay.

  “Why are you trying not to cry?”

  Damn, lady. “I’m not. I mean, I am. It’s just… I don’t cry, or I try not to.”

  “Good heavens, why not?”

  “I don’t know. It’s pointless. It doesn’t help anything.”

  She sighed and shook her head, her long white waves swishing across her chest. “That’s not true at all. Crying has many purposes. It’s a natural reaction to all sorts of things. It’s energy being stirred up and leaving your body. When did you learn that it was pointless? Who taught you that?”

  Good question. I had no idea. “I guess I learned when I was a kid. Which is funny, because I remember being told I was childish for crying but I was a kid at the time, and aren’t kids supposed to be childish?”

  “The whole notion of being childish is so misguided. Children are open to everything. No one is born with judgment or prejudice or fears. Children see and hear and feel everything around them, taking it all in. They’re pure and honest. I wish more adults would strive to remember what that feels like. You don’t need to answer me, but think back, Phoebe. Remember a time when you could just feel, even if it felt bad. You’re still here. You survived. Let yourself feel more. You may find you enjoy it.”

 

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