Billionaires Dollar Series

No worrying about the future allowed.

The water is heavenly against my skin, dissolving both my worries and my sense. Cole is my release. My escape. My chance to do something I absolutely shouldn’t. He makes me feel wanted and alive, accepted on my own terms.

My phone is lying next to the bathtub, and before I lose my nerve, I dial his number.

“Skye?” His voice on the other line is surprised, but undeniably pleased, too. It gives me strength.

“Hey.”

“Is anything wrong?”

“No, not at all,” I say, bending a knee in the tub. Some water splashes out. “Does something need to be wrong for me to call you?”

“Of course not. Are you swimming?”

“I’m taking a bath.”

There’s a pause, and then his voice is back, dark and hoarse. “You’re calling me while you’re in the bathtub?”

“Yes. I was feeling a little out of sorts, but then I realized why. I haven’t told you that I hate you yet today.”

“Ah,” he murmurs. “You haven’t had your daily dose.”

“Exactly.”

I hear a door close, and then footsteps quickening. “Where are you?”

“Hotel,” he says. “I was in the lobby, but I’m heading to my room now.”

There’s a faint electric beep, and then another door closing. “Tell me more about what you’re doing.”

“In the bath?”

I slide deeper into the hot water, until only my shoulders and head are above the surface. “I’m almost entirely submerged.”

“Submerged, huh. That’s a good word.”

“It is. I’m your thesaurus with curves, remember?”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“Oh yes,” he says. “I remember.”

“Plus I’ve taken creative writing classes.”

“Mhm.” His voice sounds faintly strained. “Put them to good use for me and paint me a picture. Make me wish you were in my hotel bathtub.”

My cheeks are burning, and not just from the heat of the bathwater. Are we doing this? “All right,” I say. “My bathtub isn’t big, but it’s enough for me. My hair is up in a bun, but it’s slowly coming undone. I have a few candles lit.”

“Yeah. The water smells like lavender. I added some oil. But no… well, there are no bubbles. None at all.”

Fabric rustles on the other end. I imagine him undoing a tie, lying back on the bed, his phone to his ear as he listens to me.

“Damn it, Skye. All I can think about is you naked in the bath right now.”

“Well, that would be a pretty accurate picture.”

“I want you to pinch your nipple.”

My breath catches in my throat, but I obey, sliding my hand down to do as he says. It rises between my fingers. “I wish it was your hand.”

His voice is heated. “It would be my teeth.”

“You know, nobody has played with my breasts as much as you do.”

“A crime,” he says, “that I very much enjoy correcting.”

My hand drifts lower, empowered by his words. “Are you in your room now?”

“Yes. I’m on my bed.”

I find the spot between my legs and circle. The water is oily and the motion practiced, need already pulsing. A soft moan slips out.

“Fuck. Put the phone on speaker, Skye. Touch yourself for me.”

And his voice… I circle faster, my breath quickening. “If you do the same?”

“It’s always a negotiation with you, isn’t it?”

“Always.”

Through the phone, I hear the distinct sound of a zipper being undone. My hand moves faster, circling, the pressure building. His breathing is heavy on the other end, the phone on speaker next to the tub.

“Talk to me,” I say. “I like your voice.”

It sounds like he’s smiling when he replies. “So you keep saying. All right. Are you touching your clit for me?”

“Good girl. Slide your fingers further down, slip one inside for me.”

Dear God. I do what he says, a moan escaping me at the sensation. “I wish it was you.”

“My hand?” he asks. “Or my cock?” I sink deeper into the bathwater without responding, and a throaty laugh comes through the phone. “You’re blushing now. I can tell.”

“Maybe.”

“I’m so hard for you here, Skye. I want to fuck you so bad.”

My fingers are circling faster now, my breath coming in gasps and moans. It’s his voice. His words. The picture of him on his hotel bed, stroking himself, hard because of me.

“You are,” I say.