Chapter 33
thirty-three
. . .
RORY
My hands grip the edge of the pool and I stand to yank off my goggles.
Keeping up with my workouts when I’m traveling is a must, so when the campaign was booked, Vivi made sure they put us up in a condo with a lap pool.
While I catch my breath, I look over at the lounger Summer had been sketching on earlier, but she’s gone. I pull my swim cap off, then climb out of the pool and grab a towel before making my way back up to the condo.
“Summer?” I call, toweling my hair off as I walk into the living room.
There’s no reply, so I move toward the bedroom.
As I get closer, there’s a faint moaning sound, and I wonder if she’s okay.
I make my way to the doorway. The bedside lamp is on, casting a warm glow across the room. That’s when I see her.
There, spread out on the bed in only a t-shirt, is Summer, with her hand between her legs.
At first, I think I must be seeing things.
What I want to see, not reality.
But the longer I stand there expecting the image of Summer pleasuring herself to disappear, the more I realize it’s not a mirage.
Her shirt is damp where her bikini used to be but she must have taken it off because beneath the soft, wet cotton, her nipples are stiff peaks. Her lips are parted. The bridge of her nose pinched and wrinkled in frustration.
I’m too enraptured to leave. I know I should give her privacy but everything about the sight of her is holding me to the spot. The tuft of light curls gathered at the apex of her thighs. Even from this distance I can see the glistening of her arousal.
“ Rory .” She moans, her eyes still shut. “Oh, please.”
Fuck. Hearing my name as a plea on her lips will forever be etched into my brain. It’ll haunt my dreams.
This woman, my wife, with her flushed cheeks and fiery soul, is touching herself to the thought of me. The knowledge sends a potent rush of chemicals through my veins. Drawing most of my blood supply south, my cock strains against the confines of my wet jammer. The surge of desire has my fingers gripping tighter on the towel around my neck. Even my balls ache at the sight of her.
Fuck.
I can’t look away. My hand reaches out to steady myself on the wall, but the wall isn’t there and my fingertips bump into a small anchor figurine on the upright dresser instead. As it skirts along the surface of the dresser, I try to catch it, but I’m too late and it hits the wooden floor with a clank. The disturbance has Summer’s eyes flying open, her body springing upwards. Before she sees me, I try to get behind the door, but it’s impossible to hide my large frame quick enough.
“Rory?” she calls out, my name on her lips trembling with uncertainty this time.
I’m caught, so I walk back in the room, with the towel draped casually over my shoulders.
“Sorry.” I reach to pick up the brass anchor figurine and put it back in its place. “I heard my name and thought you needed me.”
Giving her a moment to recover from my sudden appearance, I take my time, slowly dragging my eyes from the anchor figurine across the room to her. But she hasn’t moved to cover herself. She’s still spread out on the bed, her t-shirt barely concealing her sex. Beneath the hem, without her fingers blocking my view, I can see she’s swollen and so fucking slick.
The sight of her there is exhilarating. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life. Not because she’s wet and touching herself, but because of the way she’s raw and unabashedly sexy.
My eyes drop to the space between her thighs again.
Damn. She was close and I interrupted her.
I clear my throat, but my voice still comes out like gravel. “Do you need me, Wildflower?”
Her lust-filled gaze traces down the length of my body, stopping at what I know to be the large bulge in my jammer.
Jammers are good for streamlining but they’re shit at hiding erections. Not that I’m trying to hide it. I wouldn’t bother to deny my attraction to Summer. Clothes, no clothes. Smiling or scowling. I want her. It’s irrefutable.
But I’ve had to be careful with her. While I’m hanging by a thread with my desire for her, I know she needs to make this decision on her own.
She licks her lips. “I—” She hesitates, before her gaze meets mine again. “Will you talk to me?”
Her eyes fall to the spot on the bed beside her, then back to me.
“Yeah.” I’ll do anything you need me to. It’s the truth. In this moment, and all the ones after with her. But Summer isn’t ready to hear that. I wonder if she will ever be ready to hear the truth of how I feel about her. That my emotions already overstepped the line we figuratively drew when we came up with this arrangement. Each day with her is making me both thankful and regretful for our agreement. If this is as close to touching her as I’ll ever get, then I’ll take it.
I find my place on the bed beside her. Lowering down to my side, I tuck my arm underneath the pillow, then rest my head on it.
She settles back down on the bed and the scent of her drifts over me. Coconut sunscreen and citrus shampoo with a hint of sweat and the muskiness of sex. Her sex. My gaze follows her hand as she inches up the hem of her t-shirt, and her fingers return to her center.
“What should I talk about, Summer?”
“Anything. I just need to hear your voice.”
The way her voice pitches on the word need makes my chest expand with pride. I need to stroke myself like I’ve never needed a release but I hold back, focusing on my beautiful wife.
“I have to admit I saw your pretty pussy from across the room. I bet you’re so soft and smooth.”
“Hmm.” She bites down on her lip, then slowly releases it. “Tell me what to do.”
“Be a good wife and show me how you like to finger-fuck yourself.”
She nods, letting her hand drop between her legs again.
“Slip a finger in.”
Her wrist arches with the movement.
“Now rub your clit with your other hand.”
“ Rory. Yes .”
Her hips lift, rocking in rhythm to her fingers. I can hear how wet she is and it’s taking everything in me to not slide a hand between her legs and feel her.
“That’s it, Wildflower. Fuck that pretty cunt until your fingers are soaked.”
Her soft pant indicates she likes what I’m saying.
My cock begs for me to join in on the action, but it’ll only distract me from watching her. And I fucking love watching her touch herself.
“You’re such a good wife, Summer. Letting me see you like this.”
“I wanted you to see me,” she admits on a gasp and I wonder if her pleasure is making her say things she wouldn’t normally.
“You did?”
She bites down on her lower lip and nods.
“I’m glad. I like the show, baby.”
And fuck, I do.
All I can do is stare as her chest rises and falls. Her nipples straining obscenely against the cotton of her shirt.
“You’re so god damn beautiful.”
Another cry and she comes hard, the soles of her feet pressing into the mattress while her hips lift off the bed. I’m entranced by the way her face pinches tightly before going slack.
Fuck. I haven’t even touched her and I already know I’ll never be the same man after witnessing Summer find her release.
We lie there for a moment, Summer’s breathing evening out while I commit every sound of her climax to memory.
Her hand drops from her center and onto the bed between us. My restraint is at its breaking point. I can’t fucking help myself. I reach for it and press her fingers into my mouth. She turns to me, her eyes wide, watching as I swirl my tongue over her digits, sucking every drop of her off.
She tastes even sweeter than I imagined.
“Fuck, Summer, you taste like wildflowers and sweet tea.”
She lets out a puff of laughter, throwing her other arm across her forehead as she giggles. Like she’s exasperated while also turned on.
Now that I’ve tasted her, I’m thoroughly fucked.
With Summer still in a daze, I press a kiss to her palm, then roll off the bed. There’s only so much a man can take, so I head for the bathroom to shower. Ultimately, I know I’ll be fucking my hand with the taste of my wife still on my tongue.
As the hot water beats down on my back, I brace one hand on the tile and try to steady my breathing. My other hand is wrapped around my cock, my hips thrusting into my tight fist to the memory of Summer pleasuring herself.
It’s not a new occurrence but now that every fantasy I’ve ever had about her has been permanently upgraded by the real thing, I can’t help myself.
I watch my climax rinse down the drain, then finish my shower.
By the time I return to the room, Summer’s curled beneath the covers, her peaceful face telling me she’s already drifting off to sleep. I want to climb in beside her, pull her against me, hold her all night. But I know myself too well.
So, instead, I grab an extra blanket from the closet and crash on the couch.
There are lines I won’t cross, not while she’s still sorting out what this marriage means to her. And while she let me in tonight, she trusted me. I’m not about to rush her past that.
She deserves everything, including my patience and the space to want more because she’s ready, not because the moment got the better of us.
Even if sleeping out here with a hard-on and the taste of her still on my tongue is its own kind of torture.
Because she’s worth every second of the wait.