Rated M for language and explicit content.
Don't say I didn't warn ya.
"Chloe!"
Chloe looked up from the floor outside of the Fancy studio. She couldn't go far, because of the ad-libbing she might have to do, but she couldn't spend another second inside.
And she wasn't alone. Even Jessica had taken to filming TikToks from the other side of the "sound-proofed" glass.
Jesse was the one who had called to her, as he came across the hall, with a full-gait and open arms. Chloe saw her friends stiffen around her as she stood up.
"I have that phone number for you," he said, glancing around. "Why are you all out here? Is there something wrong with the studio?"
CR scoffed.
"Yeah, there's two crazy narcissists in there," she groaned, and the other women laughed sullenly.
Jesse looked through the window to see that Bumper and Fat Amy were engaged in a pillow fight, using couch cushions as shields as they squared off across the room. They were also screaming at each other.
"If I had a burrito, I'd throw it at you!" Bumper's muffled voice came through the glass.
"That doesn't even make any sense!" Amy roared as she charged.
"But now I'm hungry AND angry!"
"We should really get better glass, huh?" Jesse said to the group, most of whom hadn't even gotten up from their spots on the hallway floor.
Murmurs of assent were his only response.
"A phone number?" Chloe asked impatiently. She rolled up onto her tiptoes to look at Jesse's phone in his hand.
Jesse tore his gaze away from the studio.
"Yeah," he replied, scrolling through his phone. He pulled up the right number and handed it to Chloe so that she could copy it into her own phone. "She said, and I quote, 'whatever'."
"Thanks," Chloe said, saving the contact. She worried a lip between her teeth, avoiding pointed stares from every other person in the hallway.
"Can I get you all anything else?" Jesse asking, ever the host. He looked between them expectantly. "Food's good?"
"We're good, cutie," Stacie said with a wink. "I'll text you if we need anything."
With a coy smile, Jesse made his exit, and Chloe felt her friends still staring at her.
"It happened," Jessica said excitedly.
"We knew it would," CR replied, rolling her eyes. "You read the same 'producer' notes I did, didn't you?"
The remaining women nodded, except for Stacie, who was watching Chloe warily. The redhead's gaze was fixed on the phone, on the contact that was still pulled up.
"You have to text her," Stacie started to say, then stopped, adopting a gentler tone instead.
"Remember, we talked about this: it's about controlling the situation. You can't change her behavior, but you can change how you react to it. It's not going to go away, this thing between you two. Communication is key. Don't forget to tell her what you're feeling, because she seems to respond to that in a way that's almost human instead of her goblin-like, nasty little-"
"Legs," CR warned her, and Stacie cut off. The brunette shook her hair off her shoulders before she squared them.
"Slow, and communicative," she said with an air of finality. "That's what Aubrey said. That's the only way you could come out of this thing without extensive emotional scarring."
"I know," Chloe said quickly, too quickly, and she clicked on the message icon.
Hi, she wrote. It's Chloe.
Without thinking, she hit send.
Her friends heard the text-sending sound, and Chloe could've sworn she felt their collective inhale. Immediately, she was on edge.
Beale, she typed out and sent.
At the second whoosh, the whole group groaned.
"You double-texted?! On the first text?" Stacie groaned. "Chloe Beale you are down bad!"
"It's a joke!" Chloe pleaded. "It's, like, an inside joke between us!"
"That doesn't matter!" CR jumped in.
"It's a cardinal sin!" Ashley added.
"Even I am aware of the implications," Flo said softly, placing a hand on Chloe's elbow. "You have made a grave mistake."
"Grave is a relative term," Lilly whispered over Chloe's shoulder, and the redhead jumped at the quiet woman's apparent nearness.
The way they were acting, after everything they'd discussed last night - not to mention the lingering hangover - made Chloe nervous. What if they were right? What if Beca thought that this was some kind of-
Her phone buzzed in her hand.
lol, the message read. hey chlo
She heaved a sigh of relief as the women crowded around her to read over her shoulder.
"No no," Chloe shouted, moving across the hall, away from their prying eyes. "I'm going away. Call me if you need me."
Amongst various cries of disappointment, Chloe moved down the hallway. Past the bathroom, and around the corner, trying to figure out where to go.
I was going to go write, she wrote into the message with Beca. Where should I go?
The three dots popped up, signifying Beca's typing, and Chloe felt her breath catch. She was talking to Beca. One on one. She could text her anything, and the producer would see it. Respond, maybe, even.
The dots disappeared.
The dots reappeared for a long moment.
you can go in my office
Chloe flushed.
That's not weird, is it? she typed back, even as she was walking towards the producer's office. She nodded towards a few of the people she recognized before ducking down the hallway, stepping into Beca's space and pulling the door closed behind her.
idk, you tell me, the producer responded. I heard you were snooping yesterday
Snooping is a cruel word, Chloe sent back. …where should I sit?
in my chair
duh
Chloe stepped behind the desk, surveying the room from the new angle, before settling into the barely-worn leather. From this angle, Chloe realized, she couldn't see any of the awards behind her, or the fancy photos. All she could see was the empty furniture in front of her, where the artist would presumably be sitting. That felt better, at least, but it didn't completely absolve the nagging feeling that this space didn't feel like Beca.
She was about to text the producer her sentiments, but she changed her mind.
I read your notes, she typed out.
The dots appeared and disappeared again.
all of them?
Mmhm.
Dots, then no dots, then dots. Then nothing. For almost a minute, Chloe stared at the screen, willing something to appear but nothing did. She held back as long as she could before she added.
I'm not mad.
Dots again, and then a simple ok message popped up.
And Chloe couldn't help but be frustrated by the short response.
Especially after the producer had been so expressive in writing before.
I mean, you did ruin my notebook, she sent over, then added, There's a whole page I can't use now.
did you have any specific plans for page 53
Chloe bit back a laugh. Of course, of course the producer would not only know the specifics of the notebook, but also be kind of a jerk when teasing her about it.
I did, actually, she snapped back. It was intended to house my magnum opus.
Beca sent back a shocked face emoji, and this time Chloe let the laugh flow freely. This version of Beca - the one that was playful, without being demeaning - this was one that she liked.
Or, at least, that was how she was reading these.
Beca could've be behaving exactly the same, with the same amount of disrespect. Through texting, though, it was just more… something. What, Chloe didn't know.
Palatable?
Understood?
Cute?
She settled on palatable.
what were you doing in my office anyway? Beca asked. stealing industry secrets?
Chloe huffed and began typing back.
Conceited much? she replied. I was looking for you. I didn't read the notebook until yesterday afternoon, so I didn't see the last note.
I know
The message came quickly, and Chloe was puzzled. She was about to ask how the producer knew that when Beca responded again.
I figured you'd find me either way - to yell at me, or to talk about it
you seem like the type to *always* want to talk about it
so when you didn't show up, I guessed you hadn't read it yet
now I know that you were going to talk, not yell
… right?
Chloe giggled as the slew of texts came through. She knew she shouldn't - that she wasn't guarded enough, that she needed to be on alert, on defense. But she couldn't. She hadn't been with Beca since the beginning, and she was having trouble starting now.
She wondered if the producer had her thumb between her teeth, like she did when she was nervous. She wondered if she was tugging at the tough skin by her thumbnail, if her leg was bobbing up and down as she stared at her phone.
And then she thought about Beca's question, about how she was going to respond to Beca's notes.
What was she going to do yesterday, had she found Beca?
Yell? Demand an explanation?
I don't know what I was feeling, she answered honestly. I still don't.
but you're not mad
Chloe thought about it.
Was she mad, that Beca had made notes all over her notebook?
No, she replied. I'm not mad.
And before she let that thread pull any further, Chloe changed the subject.
Don't you have things that you're supposed to be doing? Are you being a jerk in a meeting?
Or are you on vacation?
Chloe watched as the dots appeared and disappeared again, and she wondered what Beca was actually up to.
It seemed the producer had a lot to say but loved to change her mind.
business, came the response. but the boat drives itself at this point
Chloe rolled her eyes, the snarky response flowing out of her before she could stopper it.
But not with The Bellas, right? We're "pretty green"? We need all the help that you so graciously give?
No dots this time, and Chloe wondered if she had hit a sore spot. Well, good, she thought sullenly. She deserves a taste of her own medicine.
I'm sorry, the message blipped onto her screen. that was rude to say about your friends
Chloe stared at the message for a full twenty seconds before responding.
Not me?
no
The response was instantaneous, as was the follow-up message.
not you
Chloe could feel both of them staring at their screens. She was rereading the messages, and she could feel Beca holding, waiting to see what Chloe would ask or say or push. Waiting for Chloe's response, letting the redhead control what happened next.
But Chloe bailed out.
I really should get to writing, she sent.
Beca was typing, and then stopped again, and Chloe was about to blow up at her. Just say what you want to say! she thought. Just… ugh! Just talk like a normal human being!
we could talk about notes, if you want?
So Beca didn't want this conversation to end.
That was new.
Chloe thought about it for a moment. What was she going to write about, anyway? Did she have anything new to write? Maybe some, about her friends, but she knew that was getting repetitive. Maybe about how they helped her last night, but that would end up being about Beca again.
She'd end up writing about Beca in general.
And why should she do that when she could just talk to the producer instead?
Sure, she replied. Wanna explain why you ruined a perfect good metaphor with overtly sexual lyrics?
which time
The smile came back to Chloe's face, and it didn't leave for the rest of the day.
Nobody in-studio called her - either because they didn't need her, or because they wanted to give her privacy. Beca continued to text her, and, when Chloe started sending voice memos, the producer's notes got even more involved. Then Beca started sending some voice memos of her own, and Chloe was responding with voice memos where she defended herself or elucidated a point, and Beca was starting to talk on hers instead of just singing.
Eventually it got to the point where they couldn't work as fast as their messages allowed, but Beca said that she couldn't talk right then, so they decided to set up a call for later that evening.
A call for which Chloe was now incredibly nervous.
They had finished at the studio, and the other women wanted to go out to celebrate, but Chloe told them that she had planned to call Beca that evening and wouldn't be able to attend. Aubrey openly gasped, and CR just shook her head as Flo and Ashley ducked together, whispering fervently.
"We're just going to talk about music," Chloe explained, but she was met with a chorus of guffaws.
"And hell is just a sauna!" Aubrey shot back.
"They've been texting all day, babe," Stacie said softly, laying a hand on Aubrey's arm.
Aubrey's brow furrowed as she regarded Chloe.
"You're going to be upfront? You're going to establish boundaries, both professionally and personally?"
Chloe nodded, feeling an immense glowing of fondness for her best friend. Aubrey wasn't always the most approachable, or the most lovable or funny. But she was loyal, and that loyalty was unwavering. She was fierce, and defensive, and she wouldn't allow anything but top-notch respect for the people in her life that she held in high esteem. And to be considered among those few, from someone as discerning as Aubrey Posen, Chloe considered herself lucky. Very lucky, and at times, undeserving of the attention.
"I promise," Chloe replied solemnly. "I won't let you down."
Aubrey gave a true, open smile, followed by a determined nod as she turned down their street to drop Chloe off at their apartments.
And then Chloe was alone.
She climbed the stairs slowly, knowing that time was the only determinant in easing her anxiety.
Would Beca call, or should she? It was only ten til, but what time was it where Beca was? Was it later there, or earlier?
She read back through the end of their text messages. They had circled back around to talking about the song that started all of this, the one that they worked on in the Broom Closet studio. Beca had wanted to hear the bridge again, as she was already moving forward with some ideas, but Chloe said there were much better pieces they should explore first. So they had set up the call, idea being that Chloe could sing the ones that she liked better.
With the knowledge that she was going to sing, Chloe headed towards the kitchen and began pouring herself some water.
But she had barely pulled the Brita filter from the fridge when her phone started ringing.
She fumbled with the water jug, setting it on the counter next to her glass as she grabbed for her phone. She brushed a few strands of hair off her forward and clicked the green button.
"You're early," Chloe said, then cringed. Why was she so awkward when it came to Beca?
"By four minutes?" Beca's amused tone lilted through the phone. "I didn't realize your schedule was so tight."
Chloe cradled the phone between her shoulder and her ear, reaching out for the pitcher of water to continue her task.
"I didn't realize you were capable of being on-time," she teased, and Beca scoffed in response.
"I'll have you know, I am known for my perfect timing," the producer replied, affronted. Chloe could hear that smirk re-entering the conversation, though, when Beca added, "Just, not in the mornings."
"Could've fooled me," Chloe said, bringing her glass up to her lips. The water was nice and cold, but it did nothing to soothe her nerves.
It was going to be excruciating, she realized, talking to Beca on the phone. They had such a weird amount of history already - and so much of it was heavy with subtext and outright sexual text - and she was just supposed to be normal? Just talk on the phone, with that husky yet mellifluous voice purring right into her ear?
Even though they were miles away, Chloe knew that Beca could make it feel like she was right there, if she wanted to, right up against the shell of Chloe's ear.
She took in a breath suddenly, and Beca started to say something, but Chloe cut her off.
"So music?"
Beca faltered, pulling her words back harshly, then let out a deep breath.
"Sure," she replied, and Chloe couldn't place the tone. Maybe there was a sigh, maybe of relief? If she could only see the brunette-
"So obviously we're doing Flex, and then I was thinking-"
"Hold on," Chloe cut her off, her frustration overwhelming her empathy for a moment. "That's not the name of the song. And since when are you naming my songs?"
She heard the producer give a frustrated huff.
"I'm guessing you want to name it All in My Head?"
Chloe gave her own huff back before saying, "Only because it's the real name of the song."
Something shifted over the phone's microphone, and Chloe could hear Beca adjusting something. Then pencil on paper, as Beca started writing something down.
"And I still don't think it's the best one," Chloe went on. "What about the one about moving? Or the one that's like Wannabe by Spice Girls, you said you loved that one."
"Girlfriends? Yeah, the lyrics were good," Beca agreed. "But the melody needs work."
"Stop naming my songs! And I only sang a tiny piece earlier!"
"Well then sing more!"
So Chloe started going through the melody which, to Beca's credit, was a bit monotonous. But with Beca's help, they were able to bring out some cool octave intervals in the first verse. By the end, Chloe was sure that Beca could be convinced to keep the song in rotation.
"We need a song about us. About The Bellas," Chloe insisted as they came to an end, and Beca hummed noncommittally.
"They don't sell as well," she pushed back. Chloe could hear papers shuffling around as Beca added, "Consumers like drama. They want passion."
Chloe huffed.
"Well, our fans like that we're all actually friends," she replied. "They like that we sing about that kind of thing."
"Fine," Beca relented. "You can have Girlfriends. But I want to hear Eating Me Up."
Chloe pushed her tongue against her cheek as she flipped to the song. The song that Beca was referring to - the one that didn't have a name yet - was one of the more obvious Beca songs. One for which she had only had a single verse, and one that Beca had added a second verse to.
There were homages to the helplessness Chloe felt in regards to Beca, especially physically. Beca had doubled down on the imagery, placing the singer (presumably Chloe) on her knees like she "prayed" to the object of her affections.
But there were also outright accusations that the producer was lying to her, which Beca had conveniently ignored in her verse.
"I only have the melody for my part," she hedged, and she heard Beca breathing evenly on the other end of the line. But she could hear it, which meant that maybe Beca was breathing harder than normal.
"That's fine," Beca said carefully. "I kept the same meter, we'll see if it works."
Chloe ran a finger through the condensation on her glass, then pressed the liquid into her notebook page.
"But there isn't a bridge."
"So we'll write one," Beca gritted out impatiently. "I want to hear the song, Beale."
"Okay, okay," Chloe sighed. She tested a few notes to see what key she liked best.
Beca sighed into the phone.
"Quit stalling."
"I'm not stalling," Chloe shot back defensively, even though she totally was. "Why do you want to hear it so bad anyway?"
She waited for an answer, but Beca didn't give it, so Chloe took a deep breath and began to sing. She sang through a trial type of melody; nothing fancy, as she stayed high for most of the verse, lifting up at some of the phrases and falling down on the others. When she got to the pre-chorus, she dropped low, then popped back up as she flew into the chorus.
She got to Beca's words and stopped. Neither of them said anything until Beca broke the silence with a cough.
"Can you sing the verse again? Slower?"
Chloe fought the urge to bite through her lip as she started again. Again, she rounded out the words and stopped, waiting for Beca to say something.
"Now the whole thing?"
Chloe thought about stopping her, about pushing back, but she held her tongue. It was hard to sing anything to Beca - much less songs about her - but at least this was better than having to do it in person.
And it was a normal, professional conversation.
Even if it wasn't.
She sang through the verse again, and through to the chorus, only dimly aware that Beca had started humming underneath. Tonal, low notes - like an upright bass - and the way the phone was positioned, the way the humming shot straight through her…
Maybe this isn't better than in-person.
Just as Chloe was finishing the chorus, Beca started singing the next verse.
About being on her knees.
About ending up in her hands.
A full-body shiver shook through Chloe as she realized they would never have a normal, healthy working relationship. That even if Beca stopped flirting - or doing whatever she was doing - Chloe was never going to react to her in a way that could be construed as professional.
She gripped the countertop, tilting forward on the stool underneath her. She hoped she didn't make a noise.
Beca finished her rendition of the pre-chorus on a ragged breath.
"-and then we'd just go back to the chorus," she said, her voice quieter, almost a whisper. Chloe forced her fingers to relax, her arms thrumming with potential energy.
"I don't know if I can sing that one," she said softly, more-so to herself than to the producer on the phone. It was too much. All in My Head was about implication, and it was playful. But this one was explicit in the imagery. Incredibly potent imagery, when Beca was singing it to her, deep in her ear, when she was in her apartment alone.
She didn't think she'd ever hear it without thinking of the little break in Beca's voice, over the third line.
No music, no audience.
Just Beca.
Beca, singing Beca's words, about being on her knees…
"Hey- Chloe, are you there?"
Chloe blinked rapidly, coming back to the present moment.
"If it's too much, if you don't want to sing it - we won't do it," Beca said gently. "I'm serious. You're the one who calls the shots around here, not me. I'm just trying to- to help you. Help the Bellas. I'm trying to give you guys the best chance for success. Because that is a good ass song."
The coil of arousal that had spiraled tight in her gut blossomed into butterflies as the producer spoke.
"I knew you were a good person under all that snark," she giggled before she could stop herself.
Beca guffawed, but Chloe wasn't having it. She pushed away from the counter, abandoning the instability of a stool in favor of the worn, college couch that came from their old apartment.
"No, really," she claimed. "You're patient, and attentive, and smart. It's… refreshing. To see this side of you."
That sweet laugh came back down the line, and Chloe felt herself smiling again as her stomach flipped over itself.
"Oh, so you don't just want me for my body?" Beca teased, and Chloe returned her laugh.
"Because I read those lyrics, Beale. I knew you were hot for me."
Chloe rolled her eyes, but her stomach wasn't done somersaulting. It could probably compete in the summer Olympics, if it kept up the way it was going.
"Well, when we met the way we did…"
Chloe trailed off as Beca inhaled sharply. Even over the phone, Chloe could tell the tone shifted. Her stomach dropped, lower, sitting deep in her abdomen, against sensitive parts of herself that had been on high alert all day.
She sat up a little straighter on the couch, bracing herself.
"You mean when I pinned you against that sound board?"
It was Chloe's turn to inhale sharply, replaying the moment in her head. Beca, pressed up against her. Her breath on her neck.
From the corner of her conscious, she remembered that this was a professional call, but she banished the thought away as her core pulsed.
"Yeah," she breathed, and she knew what it sounded like. She knew Beca could hear the bated anticipation, the breathless excitement.
"When I held my body against yours," Beca hummed. Her voice had dropped so low that it rumbled through Chloe through the small phone speaker, like she was humming directly into her ear.
"When I dropped my head to your neck, like I was going to taste you."
Stop, a little voice that sounded like Aubrey said to her. Turn it off.
But things had been turned on for a while now.
She laid back against the couch, keenly aware of every nerve on her body where it connected to something else. She switched her phone to her off hand as ran her dominant hand over her stomach.
What did Beca say earlier, that the boat drove itself at this point?
Her hand passed a particularly sensitive spot at the bottom of her ribs, and Chloe gave Beca an affirmative noise, a cross between a hum and a moan, and Beca chuckled.
"I wanted to, you know," she continued. "I wanted to capture your pulse, under my lips. I wanted to suck my mark into your skin."
The flirting, the innuendos, the singing... Chloe let herself succumb. Like a current, it took Chloe under, and she let herself tell Beca the truth.
"I wanted you to," she whispered, hand skipping up her side, over her shirt.
"What else did you want me to do?"
An out, just like before. Beca's breaths were coming out in subtle pants, but Chloe could hear it.
Take the out!
She laughed - a dark, low noise, one she swore she'd never made before - and then she sighed.
"I wanted you to take me," she admitted quietly. "I wanted to know what gave all those other women, what made them want to come back."
Beca groaned at Chloe's confession before she asked, "And now?"
Now?
Chloe wanted everything.
"I still want to know," she said. "I want to hear the noises you make when you're turned on, and I want- I want to feel your fingers on my skin."
Another dark chuckle from Beca, and she let out a tortured, short moan.
"Well I can only help with one of those right now," she groaned. She sucked in a breath, like she was going to add something else, and Chloe waited.
And waited.
Suspended on the crisp edge of her arousal, finger against her breast bone, tracing a delicate, familiar circle into the sensitive skin.
And just when she was about to break the tension, to cut off this god-awful suspension, Beca blew out her breath.
"But you can use your own fingers."
"I could," Chloe breathed in relief, even though her body ratcheted up three more gears. A momentary lapse, but like a manual transmission, it lurched forward - higher, faster, harder.
More more more.
"You could," Beca sighed, and Chloe could hear the smirk in Beca's voice. For once, she didn't care.
"And I could," the brunette added. "I'd like to, I mean. I plan to, unless…?"
Chloe answered Beca's plea with a breathy, gasping moan as she slipped her hand down her front, releasing the button on her jeans. She groaned out a "yes" as she pushed further, past her pubic bone, crowded against her the fabric of her pants.
"I thought of you that night, when I was with her," Beca sighed, her voice hitching as she did something on the other end of the line, and as Chloe finally pushed a finger down onto her clit, she stopped. Suddenly she needed to know what was happening, what Beca was doing. What they were doing, together.
"I don't care about her," she grunted. "Where are you hands?"
Beca laughed breathlessly.
"You first, Chloe Beale."
At the sound of her name, Chloe rolled her hips against her stagnant finger.
"You're such a brat," she jeered somewhat playfully. She wriggled uncomfortably, attempting to push her jeans down just a little, just beyond her hips, barely succeeding in creating just a little bit of space at the apex of her thighs.
"Tell me," Beca pleaded desperately, a far cry away from where she was just a moment ago. Maybe she was as turned on as Chloe was.
"Please."
Finally, Chloe had maneuvered her pants off of her hips, keeping them wrapped around her thighs as she laid out long-ways on the old couch. She giggled triumphantly, at last feeling the slightest bit of power as Beca groaned down the phone connection. She repeated her plea, and Chloe smiled broadly as she brought fingers back to herself, over her soaked underwear.
"Such good manners," she teased, but her voice broke as she pressed harder, faster.
More more more.
"Where's this version of Beca when we're in the studio?"
"She clutching the edge of the table, trying not to come at the sound of your voice," Beca moaned, and Chloe reached up, pushed her fingers into her panties instead as a fresh wave of arousal coated her fingers.
"Fuck, Beale, I can't- I can't-"
"I'm laying on the couch," Chloe stated hurriedly, feeling her own climax building rapidly now that she had cleared the obstacles. "My jeans are pushed down, and the only thing keeping my panties from sticking to me is the fact that I have my fingers in the way."
Beca moaned loudly into the phone.
"You're wet?" she asked, and Chloe barked out a laugh in response.
"Incredibly," she answered, even though Beca could probably hear how wet she was. Chloe dipped a finger into her opening and felt the way her hips chased the sensation. It wouldn't be long now, and yet-
"I wish I was there," Beca panted. If Chloe could, she'd try to listen harder, to hear Beca pleasure herself, but she couldn't focus on anything other than the way her body began to tense.
"I'd have two fingers pressed deep, deep inside-"
Chloe pressed two fingers into herself, moaning at the sensation.
"And I'd have my mouth against your neck, like I did that first night, like I've wanted to do every day since," Beca went on. Through the groans and moans, Chloe could hear Beca smiling, and she tried to savor it as she ground up against her hand, seeking friction, seeking more.
"You're so- fucking- precious when you smile," Beca groaned, and her voice - Chloe knew Beca was about to come, that she was at the precipice, that it wouldn't take much for the brunette to follow her over, if she could just-
"I bet you smile when you come," she whined. "I bet you- fuck - I bet you moan- in key. I bet you-"
But Beca didn't have to bet anymore.
Because Chloe broke apart roughly, loudly, groaning out a rough curse.
The idea that Beca had thought about her, was currently and possibly often thinking about the way she came, picturing Chloe breaking apart under her…
Yeah.
That was enough to send her over.
Chloe's release had Beca breaking too, as her moan trailing up- up, higher than Chloe's, and she gasped at the top before swearing back down.
"Fuck, I mean fuck Chloe," Beca breathed, and Chloe rasped out a breathless laugh.
"I didn't think you'd be so vocal," she sighed as she sucked in a deep breath, holding her fingers against herself as her clit thudded rapidly.
"My mouth is usually occupied," Beca groaned. Chloe flushed at the thought as she heard Beca sit back, adjusting something around her.
They sat in silence together, listening to each other breath for a minute as they both came down from their highs. Chloe began to move her fingers slowly, carefully - just enough to keep the good feeling, and she melted into the touch.
"So I didn't get the full treatment?" Chloe asked playfully, and she heard Beca laugh.
"No, not yet," she warned, and Chloe heated at the suggestion in her tone. "In fact, I'd say you got shafted. You didn't even get the part you lust after - this smokin' hot bod."
Chloe giggled, and she heard Beca laugh too. Their post-coital bliss held a shared vulnerability, and Chloe felt herself leaning into it.
"It's not about that," she said seriously. "Not really. It's about the power you have over me. The respect I have for your work. Even in the songs about sex, it's not really about sex. It's the pull. It's magnetic. It's the way I can't help myself."
Beca was quiet for a few seconds, and Chloe let her eyes close as she pulled her fingers off of herself. She was content to just lay there, listening to Beca breath.
"Yeah," Beca said finally. There was an edge to her voice, something darker, but not in the way Chloe had heard before. Chloe's eyes flew open.
"What's-"
"It's not fair," Beca said quickly, and that tone - Chloe could recognize it now.
Regret.
"Beca-"
"I gotta go, Chlo," she said sharply, her voice distant, wavering. "I'm sorry, we shouldn't-"
"Beca, wait!"
"I'm sorry," the producer cut her off. "I'm really sorry."
Chloe continued to shout at her phone, but when she finally looked at it, she saw that Beca had ended the call.
They'd been on the phone for nearly two hours.
Two hours, with the best connection she'd had in years.
She lay there, on the couch, the apartment's cold air finally permeating her blanket of arousal. She felt it against her exposed stomach, against her underwear and the cooling wetness that was pooled there.
Cold, and alone.
She stared at her phone.
And a terrible, vast loneliness swept over her, so much so that she curled into herself, tugging her knees against her chest as she turned on her side. She laid there for an hour before she finally got up, peeled off her soiled clothes, and went to bed.
"Well somebody has to wake her up and tell her!"
Chloe blinked against harsh light streaming in from her open window. Why didn't she close the blinds last night? And why did she feel so hungover? Her eyes were heavy as she forced them closed, then open, struggling against dreams of dark hair and sly smirks and-
Oh.
Right.
A soft knock came at her door, and she mumbled something at it.
Stacie came in first, followed by Aubrey. The brunette perched on the edge of Chloe's bed as Aubrey moved to stand by the window.
"Hey," Stacie said gently. "We think you need to see something."
Chloe flashed back to yesterday - to her phone call with Beca, to the phone sex - and she sat up.
"What happened? Did I do something?"
"It's not you, it's…"
Aubrey thrust a phone in front of Chloe's face as Stacie protested.
"Bree-"
But Chloe was already reading.
Rumored Oscar-nom Kalina Val and superstar producer girlfriend take on the surf at private beach - see exclusive photos!
Chloe didn't have to click the photos. The one that they had on the article - of Kalina and Beca, embracing in the shallow waves - that was enough.
She was on vacation.
With Kalina Val.
Chloe felt a sadness so potent that she wretched forward. But instead of throwing up, the woman let out a single, broken sob as she dropped her head between her knees.
And her friends tried to help, but she didn't tell them what had happened.
She couldn't do it.
Not this time.
I swore I wouldn't fucking do this this time but the song is called "Eating Me Up" by Four of Diamonds there are you happy because I'm not.