Chapter 1: Hot and Heavy Goodbye
The fluorescent light in the on-call room buzzed like a trapped insect. Natalie’s back ached from twelve hours in the rig, a familiar throb deep in her muscles, but a different, deeper ache was blooming between her legs. She toed off her boots, the smell of antiseptic and stale coffee clinging to her uniform. Her eyes, usually fierce and assessing, were soft as they found the photo on the desk: her and Zebby, squeezed into a diner booth, Zebby’s auburn head thrown back in a laugh that was almost audible.
The phone in her hand vibrated. A FaceTime request. Zebby.
A smirk touched Nat’s lips. Right on time. She hit accept, propping the phone against the sticky notes on her desk. She didn’t say hello. Instead, she let her head fall back against the wall of lockers with a dull thud, her free hand already pushing beneath the waistband of her navy-blue tactical trousers.
“Happy anniversary, you dirty girl,” Nat breathed, the words a husky promise.
Zebby’s pixelated face filled the screen, her eyes wide, the Missouri afternoon sun streaking through a window behind her. “Nat? What are you—oh, fuck.”
Nat had her trousers and briefs bunched around her ankles. Her fingers were already sliding through slick heat, circling her clit with a pressure that made her hips jerk. She watched Zebby’s expression shift from surprise to hungry focus. Zebby’s throat worked as she swallowed.
“See something you like?” Nat murmured, her breath hitching as she pushed two fingers inside herself, a low moan escaping her. The room was too bright, too clinical, but the image of Zebby’s wanting face made it feel dark and secret.
“Jesus, Nat. You’re at work.”
“And you’re six thousand miles away. This is what you get. Now, don’t just stare.” Nat’s voice dropped, taking on the calm, commanding tone she used on a critical scene. “Pull it out for me. That big, beautiful cock. I want to see it.”
Zebby hesitated, a flash of that familiar vulnerability in her eyes. Then she fumbled with her jeans, the camera angle dipping before rising again. And there it was, springing free from its confines, thick and full in her hand. Seven inches of smooth, flushed arousal.
“That’s it,” Nat coaxed, fucking herself slowly with her fingers, the wet sound obscene in the quiet room. “Now fuck your fist. Pretend it’s me. Show me how you’d ride me, Zeb. How you’d fucking ruin me.”
Zebby’s grip tightened, a bead of precum welling at the tip. She began to stroke, a slow, tentative rhythm at first, her eyes locked on Natalie’s working hand.
“Talk to me,” Zebby whispered, her voice rough. “Tell me what you’d do.”
“I’d get on my knees right here on this shitty linoleum,” Nat said, her words coming faster, matching the increasing pace of her fingers. “I’d taste you first. Lick you from your balls to that sweet tip until you were shaking. Then I’d swallow you down until you hit the back of my throat. You’d fuck my face while my puty’s dripping, just like it is now. Soaked for you.”
Zebby’s strokes became urgent, her breath panting. “I’d bend you over that desk. Push all those manuals on the floor.”
“Yes.”
“I’d spank that perfect little ass of yours until it was pink. Then I’d spread you open and eat your cunt until you came screaming. Then, only then, would I let you feel me.” Zebby’s words were a guttural stream, her fist a blur. “I’d slide into that tight, wet heat and I wouldn’t be gentle. I’d pound into you, Nat. Make you take every inch. Make you feel me for days.”
Nat’s orgasm ripped through her, sharp and shocking. Her back arched off the sagging mattress, a ragged scream tearing from her lungs as her cunt clenched around her fingers. Pleasure, white-hot and electric, radiated outwards, melting the persistent ache in her spine. Her juices spilled onto the sterile white sheet beneath her.
She rode the waves, gasping, coming down to the sight of Zebby working herself furiously, desperately, on the tiny screen.
“Come for me, baby,” Nat whispered, her voice shattered. “Come all over yourself for me. Let me see it.”
Zebby’s face contorted, a beautiful, broken mask of release. Her body tensed, her stomach muscles clenching, and with a choked-off cry, stripes of cum shot across her own torso, glistening under the afternoon light. She shuddered, her grip going slack, her head lolling forward.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of their shared, ragged breathing, bridging the continents between them. The hum of the lockers. The distant, garbled crackle of a dispatch radio from the hallway.
Nat slowly pulled her fingers from herself, bringing them to her lips without breaking eye contact. She tasted herself, salt and musk, and saw Zebby’s spent cock give a feeble twitch at the sight.
“Happy anniversary,” Nat said again, softly this time.
Zebby managed a weak, sated smile. “We’re disgusting. I love it. I love you.”
“Love you more.” Nat reached for a towel, cleaning herself up with clumsy, post-orgasm lethargy. “How was clinicals?”
“Stop. Don’t be romantic and then ask about IV sticks.” Zebby laughed, using a discarded t-shirt to wipe her stomach. “It was fine. I missed three. Felt like an idiot. Kept thinking about what you’d say.”
“I’d say find a better vein. You’re thinking too much.” Nat pulled her trousers up, the coarse fabric uncomfortable against her sensitive skin. She missed Zebby’s sweatpants. She missed her warmth. The high from the climax was already fading, leaving the hollow space beneath her ribs feeling vast and cold. “I got you a present. It’s… en route.”
“Nat, you didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to. Six months is something. Even with all this fucking distance.” She lay back, the phone on her chest, staring at the water-stained ceiling tiles. “I recorded another sunset for you. The water was like crushed diamonds today.”
Zebby’s smile was tender, full of a longing that mirrored her own. “Can’t wait to hear it. I’m just… sitting here in my mess, missing you like a limb.”
The door to the on-call room rattled, a fist pounding twice. “Osta-Beeby! We’ve got a priority one. MVA on the Great Ocean Road. Five minutes.”
Nat was upright in an instant, the paramedic slamming back into place, sealing the raw, open woman away. “Copy. Rolling now.” She looked at the phone, at Zebby’s fallen expression. “I have to go.”
“Go. Save lives. Be brilliant.” Zebby blew her a kiss. “Call me after.”
“Always.”
The call ended. Natalie’s screen went black, reflecting her own flushed, suddenly lonely face. The adrenaline for the job was starting to prickle, but it couldn’t quite fill the space where Zebby’s voice had been. She tugged on her boots, laced them with efficient tugs, and grabbed her kit.
She paused at the door, glancing back at the rumpled bed, at the damp spot on the sheet. A secret in the sterile room. Her body still hummed. Her heart ached.
She headed for the bay, the echo of Zebby’s command still in her ears. Pound into you. Make you feel me for days. It would have to last. It would have to be enough. For now.