“All my photos and messages?” My eyes go wide at the prospect of having all of my memories back.
“All of them. Your videos and recordings too,” he muses. “Restored just the way you had everything. Well, I might have added a few things.”
“Like?”
“The recording of me you liked so much. Another I made for you. I know you’re trying to be good. To make up for everything with the abbess. But just in case you get too lonely at night. There's something for you to listen to.” A grin teases at his lips, and I can feel my cheeks heat.
“Can I listen to it now? I don’t think I can wait for the convent to hear the new one.” I give him my best pout, and he shakes his head.
“I suppose, if it means I get to watch your reaction.” His eyes rake over me.
“Deal!” I pop up and hold my hand out for him. He barely uses it for leverage now that he’s almost fully healed, but I want him to have the help if he needs it. “My headphones are in thebedroom. Now I see why you got me the new ones.” I look back at him with a conspiratorial grin.
“I might have been thinking ahead a little,” he admits.
We move to the bedroom, and I climb into his lap, my dress spread out around us as I turn the phone on and put my headphones over my ears. He settles under me, his hands on my hips as he studies me. I thumb my way down to the playlist and find one called “Z’s Late-Night Playlist” and hold it up to show him. He nods, and I click to open it. There’s a series of tracks he's put together. Some songs I recognize, some I don’t. Then tracks that are labeled with our names or his. I click one and it starts to play.
The sounds of my moaning in the background start, and soon I hear him in the foreground. A low rumble of a groan. The sound of a zip and the rustle of fabric. I can hear the creak of a chair like he’s leaning back.
“Fuck, you sound so sweet like this. I bet that pretty little pussy could use a tongue like mine. I’d make you moan for hours.”
My eyes meet his, and the blush that was just beginning to bloom earlier floods my cheeks. But it’s not embarrassment anymore. Now it’s just pure anticipation. I nibble my lower lip as I wait to hear what happens next.
He groans through the speakers, and I hear the sound of his hand on his dick, slowly at first, just barely brushing over his skin. Then a little faster, a low moan, and the sound of him spitting into his palm before he resumes working himself over. The slick sound of the movement sets me on edge and makes me shift in Levi’s lap.
“Wish this was you, sweetheart. Your mouth on me. Those pretty blue eyes staring up into mine. Just the thought of it… Fuck.”
I bite my lip, and I feel Levi’s hands dig into my hips, his face tightening into a half scowl as he looks at me like I’m torturing him. I push one of the earphones back from my ear and look at him in question.
“What?” I ask.
He grabs my hips and pulls me forward, centering me on his lap, and I feel how hard he is.
“You’re grinding away on my thigh while you listen there, sweetheart.”
“Oh. Sorry!” I give him a sheepish look, but then I jump up, setting my headphones to the side. “I have an idea!”
“What’s that?” he asks, clearly confused by my sudden abandonment.
“I want to make one for you.” I walk to the door, making sure it’s locked. Aspen and her daughter are out for the day, and Grant and Dakota are likely busy having their own listening session wherever they are. But I don't want to risk any family trauma.
“Right now?”
“When else will I be able to suck you off without company in earshot?” I ask, and his face crumples with amusement. “We have to be a little loud, right? To make sure the mic catches it?”
“A little, but it picks up a lot. I really didn’t mean to make the original recording you heard. I just forgot it was still on from when I was making notes earlier.”
“All right. So can you do it again? Set it to listen while we do this?”
“Are we doing this?” He looks at me thoughtfully. “Because we don’t have to. I appreciate the thought, but?—”
“You don’t want a recording of me?”
“Of course I fucking do.” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind if I think he’d say anything else.
“Then take your pants off and hit record.”
FIFTY-ONE
