“Okay, can you float?” he asks.

Giggling, I tip my head back, and, I find I am blinded by the sun as it warms my face.

That’s when the dream shifts. It changes mood and alters its course. As I focus once again, Phillipe is by me in the middle of the river, but I can’t see him. Everything is dark, and my vision is gone. I can feel him beside me, holding my head between his palms, while the music continues to float around us.

I can still feel the sun on my face as I inquire softly, “Phillipe?”

His hands tighten in my hair as he mumbles something.

“Phillipe?” I call again, feeling my heart start to flutter in my chest. I can feel myself becoming frightened.

Then, I hear him reassure me, attempting to calm me. “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 in the tub 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.

Standing, I quickly 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.

Sliding farther down into the tub, the water laps gently against my ears as it surrounds my head, making my hair float down 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 Air by Johann Sebastian 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.

“Gemma.”

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 envelopes my ears and starts to creep up onto my cheeks as I struggle to remind myself that I am in control. I can sit up at any time, I think to myself, but my heart is choosing to ignore my common sense as it starts to pound anxiously.

“Gemma.”

My name is called again.

“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 bring up my hand and 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. Quickly, he releases me and steps back to lean against the counter.

He explains, “You were calling out.”

Belatedly, I remember that I am sitting in a bathtub, and haphazardly, I try to cover myself.

“I was?”

Nodding slowly, he remains silent.

“What was I calling?”

His eyes move to my hands that are now cupping my breasts. As he takes a step toward me, I scramble back in the tub to the wall, making the water slosh around me where I land, not an inch away from where I was just sitting.

As he looks down at me, I’m aware of the hard bulge that has formed behind his zipper. My eyes move to his hands as he reaches down to unbutton and unzip his pants.

Shaking my head, I tell him softly, “No, Phillipe.”

He doesn’t heed my request though because he quickly pushes his pants and underwear down and off his hips. He reaches for the hem of his sweater, tugging it up over his head. My traitorous pussy clenches 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.

He asks, “No?”

My breathing increases and the water I am sitting in now feels like it’s starting to boil because looking at him has me overheating.

“What was I calling?” I ask him again. I’m determined that if he wants something, wants this from me, then he needs to give me something in return.

Reaching around to the front of his body, 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. With a large palm, he cups the back of my wet hair, drawing me forward. Licking my lips, I look up at him.

One more time, I ask again, “What was I calling?”

Gritting his teeth, he finally replies, “Chantel. You were calling out her name.”

His hand tightens in my hair as he brings my lips closer to his pulsating shaft. With eyes raised to him, I let out a deep breath, teasing his sensitive skin.

“That’s because I was thinking about her.”

His head falls back, and the muscles and veins in his neck start to strain as his taut body trembles. His pleasure at just my breath on his flesh is intoxicating. He’s making me feel like a queen as I kneel before him.

Finally, he releases his grip on his cock, and I replace his hand with my own, grasping at the base of his shaft. Leaning forward, I lick the wet tip of his desire, and I delight at the deep groan that rumbles from his throat. Encouraged by the hand fisting in my hair, I part my lips and take him inside my mouth.

He might have had a problem admitting his feelings for me earlier, but when it comes to physical action, I own Phillipe Tibideau right now, just like he owns me.

Rubbing my tongue against the underside of his cock, I suck him between my lips and drag my mouth up his throbbing length. He’s not letting me get away that quick though. His second hand grips my hair, and his hips thrust as he slides in deep. He’s so deep that I have to concentrate on not choking from his sheer size. Grunting softly, he starts to move, fucking my mouth over and over, as my free hand holds on to the edge of the tub.

I can feel my core clenching with each sensuous stroke he makes into my mouth, and this time, as I raise my eyes, I see him looking down at me. He’s watching his cock, glistening with a combination of my saliva and his pre-cum, as it pulls out from between my wet lips. It’s messy and dirty, and I love every minute of it.

He clenches his jaw, and I see it twitch. As I feel his fingers tighten in my hair, I watch as his eyes dilate. He’s gone, and he’s lost. This time, it’s in me, and I bask in the high I get from that. Tears start to leak out of the corner of my eyes from the sheer force of his thrusts and the raw emotions that are riding me hard. I’m shocked when his hands leave my head, reaching down to grab my shoulders.

As his cock slips free of my mouth, he pulls me from the tub, and a gasp emerges from my throat. My wet body is hauled out, and I’m turned around to be propped up on the bathroom counter.

Leaning back against the cool mirror, I stare into the eyes of a man who looks like he’s about to crack, and I want to be the one who pushes him. Smiling seductively, I run my eyes over him as I slowly part my legs and reach down between my wet thighs, running my fingers over my clit. His eyes follow the move, and his mouth parts as he unconsciously licks his lips.

“Wider,” he instructs gruffly, reaching down to fist his cock.

Spreading my legs more, I notice when his hand starts to move faster.

“I’m going to fuck you in a minute, Gemma, and it’s going to be hard.” He punctuates his sentence with another rough stroke. “If you don’t want that, then shut those sexy thighs and get the fuck out of here.”

I take my bottom lip between my teeth, and instead of leaving, I push my finger inside myself in invitation. His nostrils flare as his fisting quickens. Bringing my hand to my mouth, I suck my finger between my lips, and before I know it, he snaps.

His hand leaves his cock to grab my wrist tightly. His other hand wraps around my waist and tugs me to the edge of the counter as he wedges his naked body between my thighs.

“Do it again,” he insists roughly.

While he watches intently, I reach down between our very close bodies and push my finger back inside myself. I arch forward, bringing me only an inch away from his mouth, and my lips open on a sigh.

Opening my eyes, I smirk as I move my hand. My now wet finger traces up his cock that’s pulsating between my splayed thighs before I bring up my hand to tap it against his lower lip.