“Yeah?”

“It’s different with you. Not just better in terms of getting off and feeling good. Better in all ways. Fuller. I didn’t think it could get any better than that first night with you, but it does. Every time.”

“It’s the same for me.”

I’m still in love with you. I never stopped. I will always love you. The words stall on my tongue.

I hear water running on the other end of the phone. “Are you taking a bath?”

“Yep. I have a big glass of wine, plenty of hot water, and no plans for the rest of the day. A bath sounds like as good a plan as any.”

“George isn’t coming over to keep you company?”

“He’s just a friend.”

I force my jaw to unlock. I’m the one who brought him up. It’s not fair for me to get pissed. “He wants more.”

Water sloshes on the other end of the line. She’s climbing into the tub. “I know, but he also knows that I’m still hung up on someone else.”

I want her to be more than hung up on me. I want her to be so hopelessly in love that she’ll give this a chance, despite the odds being stacked against us. Maybe with time. “Are you in the tub?”

“I even have bubbles,” she says.

“I miss taking baths with you. What exactly do you do when you’re in the water alone?”

“Are you asking me if I’m about to touch myself?”

My cock strains against the fly of my pants. It’s so easy to imagine her in a bath of bubbles, her hand between her legs. “No, I’m telling you I want you to touch yourself.”

She draws in a breath. “Oh.”

“You’d be doing me a big favor. See, I’d do it myself if I wasn’t seven hundred miles away.”

“So, it’d be more like a favor for a friend?”

“The best kind of favor.”

“If you put it that way . . .”

“Start at your breasts. I want you to touch your nipples. Are they hard?”

She draws in a breath. “Yeah.”

“Play with them for me. Roll them between your fingers.” The sound of her gasp has me shifting uncomfortably again. I check the bathroom door, but it’s still closed and the jets are still going.

“God,” she moans, dragging out the word. “Are you sure you can’t fly home tonight? I’d pick you up at the airport, maybe find a dark alley so we didn’t have to wait until we got back to my place.”

“Don’t distract me,” I growl. “Are you ready for more?”

“More than I can have with you in New York City.”

I close my eyes. Flying home and being with Liz is so much more appealing than sleeping on this couch. “Put your hand between your legs and find your clit.” She inhales, then slowly releases her breath. Just the sound of her breathing over the phone is enough to make my dick ache. “Good girl. Now slide a finger inside yourself while you rub your clit with your palm.”

“Sam.” There’s a desperate pitch to her voice, and I know my words are doing as much for her as her touch.

“Keep going. I need to hear you breathe. I want to hear you moan.”

I hear the sound of sloshing water, then her moan. Her breathing changes, shallows, becomes more labored.

“Add a second finger.”

“But—”

“Imagine I’m there watching you. Imagine I’m standing by the tub and I’m watching you finger-fuck yourself. Put on a show for me, Rowdy.”

She moans. “I . . . God . . .”

“Move slowly. You don’t want it to end. Imagine I’m watching you and you want to make it last.” That’s where I want to be. Right there, watching her get herself off, watching the pleasure on her face as I whisper dirty words in her ear. She’d fist my dick in her hand and—

My ears fill with the sounds of her orgasm, sweet little pants and moans that about make me come in my jeans without even touching my dick. I’m gonna need to do something about this soon, but the idea of jacking off with Sabrina in the same room doesn’t sit well.

“Wow.” She releases a long, relaxed sigh. “Well, and to think I was prepared to be sexless until I saw you again.”

“No need for that,” I murmur, refilling my scotch.

“You can use the bathroom now,” Sabrina says.

I lift my head. Sabrina is standing in front of me in a robe, a towel wrapped around her head. I’m surprised I didn’t notice the jets turn off. Then again, I was more than a little distracted.

“Who’s that?” Liz asks.

I swallow. The whole roommate situation would have been better addressed in the first half of this conversation. “It’s Sabrina.”

* * *

Liz

I feel as if he’s punched me, but I force myself to take a breath and stay calm. “What is Sabrina doing in your room?”

“Can I call you back?” Sam asks.

I flinch and bite down on my bottom lip to keep from speaking. He’s not mine. I have no claim to him. This is just . . . I don’t even know what this is, other than hopeless. “No need.”

“I will call you back,” he says firmly.

Say my name. I wish he would say my name. “Sure. Whatever works is fine.” I hang up before he can, but being the one to end the call doesn’t provide me with the satisfaction I’m looking for.

I toss my phone across the room and drain the tub then my wine. So much for a relaxing evening.