Chapter 13
She asked if we could go home. She called my house her home.
That shit made my heart palpitate in my chest, because after tasting her pussy off my fingers, she was my fucking home.
We barely made it into the house before we were kissing and groping each other.
That wasn’t surprising after I’d spent the entire ride from Londynville playing inside her, while she palmed my dick.
In the bedroom, we quickly stripped. The same dick that had been flaccid since the day my wife took her last breath was now standing at attention.
I didn’t examine the fact that I wanted Eastley; I just allowed myself to have her.
She was on the bed, her back to the mattress.
I hoisted her thighs over my shoulders and spanked her clit with my tongue, before pulling it into my mouth.
I swirled my tongue around her center, making it even more creamy than it already was.
And she tasted so fucking good. The little sample that I got at the museum was nothing compared to having her pussy in my mouth.
I licked and sucked. Licked and sucked. Licked and sucked, trying to devour her until she started to writhe under my attack.
When she started to wiggle against my tongue, I inserted it and tongue-fucked her.
Her back arched, and her hips rolled against my face. I pushed my tongue further inside her.
My name floated from her lips and out into the bedroom, sounding like a plea. Like begging. Like a request. And I loved that shit. It caused me to go harder, to lick her more slowly, to curl my tongue, and to nibble her clit.
Her hands went to the back of my head and pressed me deeper into her pussy.
She opened her legs wider, moaned more loudly, and rode my face while I tongue kissed her sensitive bud.
We stayed like that—with me pleasuring her in the most intimate way.
But soon enough, her moans picked up and grew louder.
Her body noticeably tensed, then she relaxed and flooded my mouth with the sweetest nectar I’d ever tasted.
I licked her clean while she trembled and rode the waves of ecstasy until they subsided.
“Q,” she crooned.
I didn’t give her any words in return. I simply climbed up on the bed, positioned myself between her thighs, and inserted myself into her pussy.
The feeling of penetration was always a heady moment, but with Eastley, the moment was on steroids.
Her juiciness combined with her tightness threatened to make me release my load before I even really got started.
I pounded into her, working her middle relentlessly.
“Ooh.” She sounded so sweet, moaning my name, her small hands gripping my biceps tightly.
“You feel so fucking good!” I gritted out the words through clenched teeth.
“Same.” She panted, her voice raspy with pleasure ascending in octaves as she came undone underneath me. She visibly quaked as her orgasm overtook her, and waves of satisfaction moved through her body.
I continued to stroke her until I caught up to my own orgasm, cursing loudly as a tidal wave of rapture threatened to drown me.
Loads of cum raced from my dick and saturated her womb in spurts.
When my balls were finally empty, we lay side by side on the bed.
After a few minutes, once I’d caught my breath, I rolled on top of her and started round two. I was already addicted.
Sunday morning, Eastley and I got up for church. She didn’t say much once we offered each other a “good morning.” She moved around my bedroom noiselessly, shooting me secret smiles every now and again that made my heart start to sprint in my chest.
This woman had me feeling things I didn’t think were possible for me to feel. Warmth. And . . . I didn’t know, maybe hope. She made me feel good. She had me wanting to keep that smile on her kissable ass lips.
I watched her walk to the bedroom door, covering her breasts with her hands and wearing the panties she’d worn the day before.
Apparently, she found them this morning.
I should’ve thrown those things out the damn window, because I wanted to see her naked.
I wanted her body on display for me. But it was better that she was covered.
Otherwise, I would probably end up fucking her again, and we wouldn’t make it to church.
I watched her go, taking in everything about her body like a pervert.
Then I made my way to the closet and grabbed something to wear.
I showered, dressed, and then made my way to the kitchen.
Eastley was already there, fixing us something to eat.
So, I made my way to the French doors and went out to the small flower garden.
I gathered pink and purple dahlias. After carrying them to the sink, I began the process of stripping the leaves and trimming the stems.
“Are those for Teagan?” Eastley’s voice was soft and a little bit unsure.
“Yeah. I change the bouquet for her every Sunday.” It felt weird to talk about Teagan with Eastley. Maybe not weird, but I felt a little prick of guilt knowing I was balls deep inside her last night while putting together flowers for another woman this morning. That was weird as hell.
“You told me.” She took a deep breath then huffed it out with a sigh. “Q, are you okay with what happened last night?”
Was I okay? Physically, I felt good as hell.
Busting all those nuts had me feeling light on my feet, but I knew that wasn’t what she meant.
“If you’re asking if I have any regrets about having sex with you .
. . nah, I don’t. But I will be honest and say that I need to process the .
. . I’m not sure if guilt is the right word.
” I felt frustration rise up inside me at my lack of being able to express myself.
“It’s complicated. I’m saying, I don’t feel like I cheated on Teagan.
I . . . I’m into you, E. I dig the shit outta you.
I just have this irrational fear that my interest for you is gonna block out space for Teagan.
” I sighed. “I’m fucking this up. I don’t know how to explain it.
Like, if I can only concentrate on one person, it’s you.
But where does that leave her? I don’t want to lose her.
I already lost her once. I want to figure out how to have space for both of y’all.
She’s my past, but she’s with me every day.
” I put the flowers down, made my way to the stove, and stood in front of her. “You’re my future.”
“You feel like I’m your future?”
“Hell yeah.”
“I wanna co-exist with Teagan. I don’t expect you to stop loving her. I don’t wanna compete with her memory, though.”
I tapped my chest. “I feel that. You shouldn’t have to.”
She nodded. “Okay. Just so you know, I’m driving myself to church.”
“Because I need to stop at the cemetery?”
“Well, that. I’m not trying to come in between the time you dedicate to her. But also, because one of my clients is requesting a wellness check. I’m heading to Londynville right after church.”
“Cool,” I agreed, even though it made me feel some type of way.
After I put the flowers into a bouquet and E and I had breakfast, we headed to church.
I felt so much peace sitting next to her in service.
Not gonna lie, though. It was kinda hypocritical how I sat in church praising Big G after the way I spent the night before, putting his daughter Eastley through the mattress.
After service, I walked her out to her vehicle.
I wanted to kiss her pink painted lips before she left me, but she kept looking around at the congregants around us.
Sweet Jackson was a small town. If I’d kissed her the way I wanted to, we would’ve been the topic of conversation for all the motormouths.
I let her make it, choosing to give her a hug instead.
“So, when you get home tonight, you’re moving into my bedroom, right?” I asked her before I released her.
She looked up at me with a small smirk. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I pulled her body into mine. “Don’t have me let the whole church know that I had you folded up like a pretzel, engaging in sexual sin all night. Then you come in here looking all prim and proper like you don’t take dick like a champ.”
She giggled before whacking me on the chest. “Shut up.” She looked around and found several sets of eyes on us. “These nosy Christians are watching us.”
“And I’m ’bout to give ’em a show if you don’t give me the answer I’m tryna hear.”
“Yes, Q. Yes. I’ll move into your bedroom tonight.”
“Good.” I kissed her lips, then let her climb into her truck.
I felt the burn of all the holier than thou members’ gazes as I walked to my truck. Little did they know, I didn’t give a fuck about them gossiping about me. I would try harder not to give them any reason to gossip about Eastley, though.
I got into my truck and made my way to the cemetery. Teagan’s headstone was pretty clean. I still brushed away what little debris there was before removing the week-old flowers and replacing them with fresh ones.
My visits to Teagan’s gravesite were usually a formality.
Something I did to make sure that I honored her memory.
I had watched plenty of people bury their loved ones in the cemetery and never go visit them.
Never step foot in the graveyard after the pronouncement of “ashes to ashes and dust to dust.”
Originally, I didn’t even want to bury Teagan, because I didn’t want her to suffer the same fate.
I wanted to cremate her and keep her in an urn at the house.
That way I could have her near me, not decomposing alone in a field with a bunch of other forgotten people.
But her mother had been adamant that she didn’t want Teagan cremated.
I didn’t have the strength or the conviction to fight her on it.
So, we picked out a plot, a headstone, and a casket.
I came every week to visit, but I never lingered.