“I’m right here.”
“What’s going on? What happened?”
The water gently laps against my temples, trickling into my ears a little. I start to realize the rest of my body is submerged. My arms are floating, and my legs…my legs feel as though they are being pulled down. My legs are?—
“Stuck,” his voice confirms. “You’re stuck.”
Shaking my head, I get up from my bed and put the journal aside. I don’t know if I can finish this. I don’t know if I can read whatever it is she wrote next.
Making my way into the bathroom, I sit on the edge of the tub as I fill it. Maybe a soothing soak and some relaxation will help to get my mind where it needs to be, so I can finish what I feel will be a disturbing precursor to her final moments.
I undress and climb into the tub, lying back in the fragrant, warm water. Closing my eyes, I start to picture Chantel as she saw herself in her dream, with a long white dress floating around her ankles and her hair left down, like mine is now.
I slide farther down into the tub, and the water laps gently against my ears as it surrounds my head, making my hair float around my cheeks. Slowly, I lower my hands to my sides and close my eyes, letting the dark take me under. There is no sound in the bathroom, no Bach floating around me. I hear only the rush of blood that is pumping through my ears as I lie still and silent in the tub.
“Gemma.”
I hear my name spoken softly as though whispered directly in my ear.
I ignore it, knowing I am imagining things. Once again, I’m trying to get inside her mind, while she is trying to get inside of mine.
I hear my name again, a little louder this time.
Taking a breath, I lower my head deeper into the tub. I’m determined to block her out. I’m determined to feel as she felt. The warm water completely envelops my ears and starts tocreep up onto my cheeks as I struggle to remind myself that I am in control.I can sit up at any time,I think, but my heart is choosing to ignore my common sense and starts to pound anxiously.
“Gemma.”
“Go away,” I reply, feeling the water touch my chin.
Not a minute later, a hand grasps my shoulder. My eyes snap open, and I see gray eyes staring down at me and a face curtained by raven-black hair. My heart viciously thumps inside my chest, making my head spin as I try to clear my addled brain. As my vision clears, the image above me morphs until Phillipe is standing there, shaking my shoulder.
“Gemma,” he calls desperately.
I swallow, sitting up abruptly, and find myself returning to the present. Blinking rapidly, I swipe away the water from my cheeks.
“What are you doing in here?” I demand.
Now that I am finally coherent, I can see he is in a panic. His eyes are wide. His hand, still gripping my shoulder, is shaking. He releases me and steps back to lean against the counter.
“You were calling out.”
Belatedly, I remember that I am sitting in a bathtub and haphazardly try to cover myself. “I was?”
He nods slowly.
“What was I calling?”
As he takes a step toward me, I scramble back in the tub to the wall, making the water slosh around me. He looks down at me, and I’m aware of the hard bulge that has formed behind his zipper. He reaches down to unbutton and unzip.
Shaking my head, I tell him softly, “No, Phillipe.”
He doesn’t heed my request, though, because he pushes his pants and underwear down and off. He reaches for the hem of his sweater and tugs it up over his head. My traitorous pussyclenches at the sight of him naked and hard before me. Lowering my arm from my breasts, I sit in awe of the body he has just put on display for me.
Looking down at where I am seated, he lets his arms come to rest by his sides, palms facing me. “No?”
My breathing increases and the water feels like it’s starting to boil because looking at him has me overheating. “What was I calling?” I ask him again. If he wants something, wantsthisfrom me, then he needs to give me something in return.
He takes his cock in his hand and starts to stroke himself. My mouth parts as I watch the decadent act taking place not more than a few feet from me. Unable to resist the seductive allure of him, I find myself moving to kneel before him in the tub. He cups the back of my wet hair, drawing me forward. Licking my lips, I look up at him.
