I make sure she hasn’t noticed me. That her attention is still firmly on the screen in front of her and I slip past the door, and race to my bedroom, gently closing the door behind me.
Chapter 23
Felicity
Iheadstraightformybed, nearly tripping over my own feet as I try to remove my shoes. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I quickly remove my pants before reaching into my nightstand drawer and pull out my bullet vibrator. My body is thrumming, my clit pulsing, begging for me to touch and ease the burn.
The tiny device comes to life with the press of a button and I lay back on my bed, placing it firmly against my clit. It won’t take long, my body is already primed for a release from watching Roxy.
I run the vibrator in tiny circles around my clit, pulling my pillow over my face to stifle my moans. My legs fall apart, giving me better access to my tiny bundle of nerves, and I press the vibrator firmly against it as my orgasm takes over. I fight the urge to remove it, riding out the wave of my euphoria, not wanting it to end.
Tossing the pillow off my head, I lay there with my eyes closed, a heaving mess. Satisfied, yet not. Silently craving more. I needmore than just release. I need to understand what the hell is happening between us.
A click catches my attention and I jump up in the bed, my eyes shooting to the door. It’s closed just as I left it when I came in. I shake my head, quietly laughing at my paranoia. No one’s in the room. I’m alone.
I swing my legs off the bed, my toes touching the floor before my feet. I don’t think I’m ever going to hate the feeling of softness beneath my skin. A warm change from the cold floor. Reaching down, I pick up my panties and pull them on, before stepping over to my dresser and taking out a pair of leggings, not wanting to put my jeans back on.
My hand takes hold of the cold knob and I turn it slowly, carefully opening the door, unsure if Roxy is still recording and not wanting to interrupt her.
I’ve barely stepped into the hallway when I hear her.
“Felicity,” she calls, not from the studio room, but from her bedroom. And from how echoey her voice sounds, she’s deep inside her room. Maybe the bathroom?
“Yeah,” I shout back.
“Can you come here?”
Fuck!
“Uh… yeah.”
I push her cracked bedroom door open and step inside. A low hiss echoes from the bathroom—soft, steady. The shower’s running.
I gulp. Frozen in my spot.
Every few seconds, there's a slight change in the sound—a shift in pressure, the squeak of wet feet repositioning, the thud of a shampoo bottle being set down. It’s an intimate sound, private and ordinary, but in this moment, it feels amplified. Knowing that she’s just beyond that door, bare skin under hot water,steam curling around her like a veil, has my needy pussy amping up, craving another orgasm.
“Felicity,” she calls again.
“I’m here.”
I step into the bathroom and I don’t know why, but I close my eyes for a second, trying not to look at her directly.
She lets out a laugh, one that makes my heart warm because it’s so genuine.
“Open your eyes,” she orders.
“What do you need?” I ask her, pretending like I didn’t hear her previous statement.
The water stops, and she speaks up again. “I want you to open your eyes.”
I open them slowly, keeping my gaze down, her bare feet in my sight.
“Look at me.” Her sultry voice begs me to do her bidding.
My eyes rise slowly, taking in her long, bare, tan legs. Her hairless mound, voluptuous breasts, until they land on her soft, pink, pouty lips.
“Good girl, Bliss.” She steps over to me, water dripping from her body onto the tile floor. “Did you like watching me?”
