Chapter 25 Iridescent
Amity
A perk of living alone was being able to orgasm as loud as I wanted when I had an itch to scratch.
Lately, there have been a lot of itches and sordid secret sessions under the covers because Dad is right down the hall.
Tonight, though, he is out. He said he’ll most likely crash at Uncle Mark’s, which means I have all evening to make myself come to the memory of how Lincoln destroyed my pussy with his mouth.
But it isn’t just his award-winning oral skills that make me ache, but also his iridescent eyes and the way they smoulder when he looks at me. It’s his strong, hard body against me, the addictive jasmine scent that curls around me. The huskiness of his voice makes me shiver.
Bringing my Girls Get Off Missy clit vibrator out from my drawer, I sink into the fluffiness of my bed, stark naked. The whizzing sound comes to life, making my clit pulse with need.
I really need to have the orgasm of all orgasms to relax the jitteriness inside me.
It’s not like I’m overly fond of my body, but one part I do like to brag about is my breasts. Despite the trauma I’ve caused to my health, I never seemed to lose weight there—which is a blessing, as my job sort of depends on it.
I also remember Lincoln’s fascination with them when he squeezed his cock between the valley. He used to say titty fucks drove him wild, especially when he’d blow all over my face.
The evocative memory makes my horniness spike. I don’t need to feel in between my legs to know that I am ready. I can feel how wet I am by the dampness of my thighs.
As I pluck my nipples into stiff peaks, I place removable nipple clamps on each to stop blood from circulating. Just when I’m about to orgasm, I’ll pull them off to heighten my full-body climax.
Over the years, I’ve had to get creative, because the truth is, Lincoln is still the only one who can get me off like a rocket ship.
My fingers explore where my clit is hiding. Once I’ve located it, I place the sucking vibrator over it, grinding it down deep to feel an immeasurable pleasure. With my other hand, I stick two fingers inside me, searching for the holy grail. If I can summon up enough memories of Linc and I, I bet I’ll squirt, which lifts me to another plane.
As I flicker through my hottest experiences with Lincoln, I ascend higher and higher. Flickering videos flit through my mind, from him face fucking me in the toilet stall at lunch, making me drink his cum as the bell rung, to fingering me under the table at dinner one time when we were out with all our friends. The memories sound juvenile, but they are fucking exquisite. The thrill of stifling our moans and sounds, and being on the edge of almost getting caught intensified it for the both of us. Of course, the sex was amazing too. I might have only had him a handful of times, but the times we did it could have sent me to heaven and back. One particular time was in the back of his car as we waited for Jas’ ballet class to finish. We were parked in the very corner of the car park, where we had our very own Titanic moment. There was even a mighty fine handprint left on the window as he pounded into me. Just before he came, he pulled out and shoved his cock down my throat, forcing me to swallow. I could still taste the cum in my mouth when I got home.
Old memories mix with new as I think about how sexy Lincoln is now, with the lump that rests proudly on his throat, the outline of his rough jaw, the fullness of those lips that taste like me and eyes that penetrate my soul.
The dizzying memories of past and present make me fly, and for the first time since I arrived home, I let out a scream, feeling my body release all over my bed. The prolonged orgasm is made even better when I pull the nipple clamps off, which makes me squeal over the hot pain that blooms across my chest. When I finally stop shaking, I take several long moments to regain my breath. The whirring of my sex toy still infiltrates my room, so I reach for it and press down for three seconds to turn the hum off. Tossing it to the side, I decide I’ll clean it later.
I feel sated and exquisite. But I also feel like I could go again, or need more. It’s never been a problem, but since seeing Lincoln again, it’s like I need constant climaxes to stop me from combusting in his presence. I can hate him, love him, be mad at him, feel indifferent about him andstill feel this way.
Feeling around for my toy again, I’m eager to see if I can squeeze another orgasm out, but as I grasp it, a ping from my phone sounds. Someone’s at the door.
What fucking luck!
With Dad out at Uncle Jacob’s, the only guests that we’d be expecting would be Lily or Rome. Not that I know much about Dad’s personal life, but he’d never have a woman show up here. Our family lives out of town, and the rest of his friends wouldn’t just stop by.
Not wasting another second, I scramble to throw on a navy silk nightie and dart downstairs. On my way, I momentarily think it could be Lincoln, as if my sex mind somehow summoned him, but there’s no reason for him to visit me.
As I near the front door, I hesitate for a second, my hand hovering over the lock while my other hand dances on the knob. If it is him, I can’t promise I won’t have sex with him, which would be very, very, very bad, considering the tumultuous state of our relationship.
Mid-thought, my hand opens the door.
‘Hey, Hart.’
My heart stutters, leaping into my throat at those two words.
Gold Coast, in true form, is warm for this time of the evening, despite the sun starting to lower. My eyes trail up his body. He’s in the same sweatpants from earlier, which lower all my inhibitions entirely, and the same shirt, which is probably going to be ripped off his body in a matter of minutes. His hair is damp and his dimples pronounced as he gives me a megawatt smile. Unlike hours earlier, he also seems cooler and calmer. His relaxed posture leans towards the frame, and his hands are tucked safely into his pockets, which only pronounce his giant penis, which I am pretty sure is semi-hard.
The only hint of hesitation is in his eyes; he’s not confident how I’ll take his presence. When his eyes dash down to my chest, I suddenly realise how skimpy I must look. I forewent the panties and bra, and the fabric is barely covering my skin. It is not appropriate for any company, let alone that of my ex-boyfriend, who I just fantasised about.
Both his eyebrows lift as he hones in on my pebbled nipples. I wish I could blame it on the weather, but we both know that would be a big fat lie, so the only conclusion is that he is causing this effect. To hide my arousal, I cover my chest with my arms.
Diverting his gaze back to mine, I see the moment he snaps out of his trance. Swallowing hard, he takes in a shaky breath. ‘Is it okay that I’m here?’
Yes. No. Maybe? I don’t know? The options loop around in my mind.
My hand tightens on the door, indecision running through me. If he comes inside, I’ll definitely want to fuck him. I don’t trust my live wire hormones around him, especially with the way he’s looking.
Why am I so weak?
Why is it that all it takes for me to crumble like a cookie is for him to be in the same room as me?
Even when I hate him, I love him.
If I don’t invite him inside, I’m effectively telling him there’s never going to be any sort of future between us.
‘I swear, baby, I’m done hurting you,’ he punctuates with pleading eyes. ‘I just want to see what moving forward looks like with us. I don’t want to fight anymore.’
His impassioned plea breaks me, and I find myself widening the door, stepping back to allow him to enter.
Relief sweeps over his face as he brushes past me, causing the fine hairs on my skin to prickle. When his arm skims my chest, my nipples tingle at the touch.
‘I’m sick of fighting too.’ I close the door, making a conscious effort to slow down my steps so I don’t accidentally attack him with my mouth—or kill him. It’s going to be one or the other. ‘Living room.’ I nod towards where I want him to walk. I’d go first, but I’m afraid my nightie will cinch up and we’ll never get the chance to talk.
Lazily sitting on the end of one of the couches, he has both hands stretched along the back as if he owns the place. I should sit on the Victorian armchair, but I make the decision to be a bit more friendly and sit on the other end of the couch, placing pillows between us and on my lap.
Turning towards each other, we can feel the crackle of sexual tension, despite the space between us. There’s something so familiar about him, but a matureness at the same time that I don’t recognise. His distinguishably handsome face has an angle to it that is covered in delicious stubble, and his eyes have fine crinkles around them. I still get lost in the depths of his honey-coloured orbs, but they’re not as playful as they once were. Apart from the physical changes in his body—well, the ones I can see, anyway—even his scent is different. He used to smell like boyish Lynx, but now he wears an aftershave that isn’t woodsy or any of those other vague descriptions. It’s sharp, crisp, fresh and tangy. It smells expensive and makes me heady.
We take a moment to really settle in, neither of us really knowing where to begin. While my gaze roams his features, he does the same, taking in my bare face, my cheeks flushed rosy from my recent high. I’ve scrambled to twirl my hair into a messy bun, but pieces fall around my neck. I know my nipples are still hardened by being near him, but I’m just hoping he can’t smell sex on me.
‘Amity. I don’t even know where to start.’ Leaning his head back on the couch, he continues. ‘I acted like an asshole this afternoon.’ He shakes his head and lets out a humorous laugh. ‘The truth is, I’m fucking seething with jealousy over your relationship with Jagger.’
‘I don’t have a relationship with him,’ I firmly remind him.
‘You might not have an intimate relationship, but he knows this version of you. He has a part of you. I know I have no right to feel this way, especially after what I’ve done to you, but for the sake of being honest and open, I couldn’t let it fester.’ He cracks his knuckles. ‘It is completely unfair of me to say this, but thinking of him touching you—or any other man, for that matter—makes me deranged. I want to kill them.’
I frown because of how totally hypocritical he is being.
‘Need I remind you of the countless sluts you’ve fucked over the past seven years, not to mention the one you knocked up?’ I cross my arms over my chest.
He nods, his expression sad and tortured. ‘That’s fair. I know it makes zero sense in my head, but it’s how I feel. I’m aggressively territorial over you. No, not aggressively. Obsessively.’
I knock my head back on the couch as well, exhausted from this merry go round we seem to find ourselves in.
‘Why did you keep going back to Billie?’ It’s the one lingering question I still have in my head.
‘It was a comfort thing. Please don’t think I’m defending her,’ he prefaces. ‘I’m so beyond mad at how she blurted all that stuff out the other day, but despite how much she can be a bitch, she does have some redeeming qualities. She was good to me. She loved me.’
If looks could kill, he’d be ten feet underground for admitting that to me.
Putting his hands up in defence, he knows he’s crossed a line.
‘Hey. Hey. I’m not saying the way she treated you was in any way acceptable. It’s part of the reason why I broke up with her. All I’m saying is, when it came to me and her, she was a good girlfriend. I think she has always felt extremely threatened by you, which is why she…acted the way she did.’ I’m not impressed. ‘Does,’ he corrects.
‘There was nothing to be threatened about. She got you. She won. She’s won for eight years.’
‘That’s the problem, though. You said the other day that you thought you were the other woman, but Hart, don’t you see there was never any other woman for me but you?’ He leans forward. ‘That is and has always been Billie’s greatest fear. She could never compete against you and what we have. That’s why it didn’t and would never work. I go back there, or I went back there because she was my consolation prize.’
The word ‘consolation’ blisters me.
I baulk. ‘So, what you’re saying is, you’re giving me pretty much an ultimatum that if we don’t stand a chance, then you’ll just pick her and spend your life with her?’ My mind reels at the revelation.
‘No. I’m definitely not going back. I knew I’ll never love anyone else other than you, but she was familiar, so it was better than being alone sometimes.’
My eyes widen in shock and my mouth drops open as his words penetrate through me.
‘I know I’m going all in here with my feelings, but I’ve been broken since the day you walked out of my life. I miss you so goddamn much and I want you back. I’ll do anything to prove to you that you’re it for me. In this life, and every life.’
I heave at his words, my eyes blinking rapidly as if I’m not sure I heard him correctly.
He quirks at my response. ‘I didn’t mean to just blurt it all out.’ He shrugs. ‘But I have nothing to lose when I’ve already lost you.’
‘Oh my God.’ I close my eyes to steady myself, feeling a shuffling movement on the couch.
When I reopen them, he’s slid over to me, his knee now touching mine. I swallow visibly at the contact, the pulse at the base of my neck thumping erratically. I press my hands to it, trying to will myself to calm down, but it comes off in a sexual way, causing Lincoln’s eyes to follow the movement and flare.
‘Okay.’
‘Okay, what?’
‘We can’t undo the past. You can’t undo the years of hurt and betrayal, but I do accept your apologies. While I don’t know how to understand all of your reasons, I’m grateful that you’ve tried to explain. The truth is, I don’t know where we go from here either. It’s like I know you…but I don’t. There is so much about my life you have no idea about.’ I stretch my neck, trying to release the tension I’ve been holding.
He looks sheepish, and I don’t know why.
‘What? Spill it.’
‘You might have been a million kilometres away, but I’ve always been obsessed with you.’
I give him a quizzical look. ‘Explain.’
‘Google won’t let me add any more alerts relating to you. That’s the level of stalkerish I’ve become.’ His face reddens in humiliation. I almost piss myself laughing at his confession.
‘Shut the fuck up.’ I smack him in a fit of giggles.
‘You…You…You…have set up Google alerts?’
He rolls his eyes as if it’s no big deal, but it’s monumental. ‘You’re just a sucker for punishment, aren’t ya? What in the hell would you do that for? God, I blocked you on just about everything.’
‘Gee, thanks.’
‘Linc.’ I use his nickname affectionately to soften the blow. ‘I wanted you pretty much dead. I couldn’t stand anything to do with you apart from your dad and Jas, and even then, I made sure they never uttered a word about you.’ I shrug, giving him total and complete honesty.
The buzz of the air conditioner fills the silence as he contemplates my words. I can see in his eyes that my words pain him as if he is now only really starting to realise how wounded I really was…and maybe still am.
‘Do you think your life has been better without me in it?’
That’s a trap question if I ever heard one. It’s not a simple yes or no answer, that’s for sure.
‘I don’t regret the turn of direction or trajectory of the past seven years. I know I’m incredibly lucky to have real friends, a career I love, a legacy and most of all, the means to help others. I do…’ I suck in a breath to unjumble the words in my mind, ‘regret some of the decisions I made, and the pain I tried to conceal.’
‘What decisions?’
I’m not ready to tell him that he nearly killed me.
Shaking my head, I decide to brush it off. ‘It doesn’t matter.’