Chapter 24 #2
A tiny smile pulls at her lips. “They really did. They couldn’t have kids, but they always wanted to. So in a way, I guess we kind of saved each other.” Her voice warms, a feeling of peace in her words. “They’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
I watch her profile in the flickering light—her soft smile, her steady breath, her quiet strength that I don’t think she even realizes she carries.
“What do you remember about her?” I ask.
She lets out a small breath, almost a laugh, almost a sigh.
“She used to sing ‘Moon River’ to me when I was falling asleep.” She tilts her head back against the couch, eyes shining just a little.
“I loved it. She always smelled like freshly cut flowers—probably because one of her jobs was working for a florist. Her dream was to be an actress, but it never worked out. Which is a shame, because she really was amazing. So talented. Beautiful. Life really isn’t fair sometimes, you know? ”
Her eyes soften, distant, like she’s looking at something only she can see.
“She named me Scotland because she always dreamed of going there,” she says quietly. “I don’t know if she ever had a real plan for it, or if it was just a dream she held onto. But I like that she named me after hope.”
My heart cracks open in my chest. Something warm. Something aching.
I don’t touch her.
I want to.
But I don’t.
“I’m glad you told me that,” I say, voice low.
She turns her head just enough to look at me—really look—and something passes between us. Weightless and heavy all at once.
She smiles. Small. Real.
We turn our eyes back to the screen.
When Holly Golightly sings Moon River, Scottie goes very still beside me.
I don’t watch the movie anymore.
I watch her.
The warmth of her body, the soft rhythm of her breathing, the faint scent of sweet citrus coming off her, it all blurs together. The room feels dim and slow and safe.
At some point, my head leans back against the couch.
Just for a second. Just to rest my eyes.
Just a second.
We fell asleep sometime during the movie.
When I wake up, the TV is on standby mode, casting a blue glow in the dark room.
Scottie is wrapped around me—arm around my waist, leg hooked over mine, the top of her head tickling my chin.
She smells like a creamsicle, and I fight the urge to run my nose along her and breathe her in.
I don’t know what time it is, and I’m not even fully awake, but it feels good to have her in my arms. I almost fall back asleep, but stop when she starts to stir.
Her hand rubs a slow circle over my stomach, delicate enough that I question whether it’s real. Then her fingers slip just under the waistband of my pants—not really going anywhere, but enough to feel like she’s teasing me. My awareness fully hits when her hips grind against my side.
I’m not sure if she’s still asleep, if she even knows what she’s doing. All I know is I’m too weak to stop her.
Her head tilts, eyes meeting mine, and they’re perfectly clear.
Neither one of us says anything. It’s like we’re existing between dreaming and waking, and if one of us breaks the illusion, then we have to stop.
But here, we’re safe. Safe from consequences.
Safe from reality. I give her a subtle, almost imperceptible nod—an understanding.
She does the same. After that, I’m not sure who moves first.
Our lips collide, almost frantic.
I palm her ass, sliding her up my body and moving her to straddle me.
She falls into place seamlessly, never tearing her lips from mine.
I plunge my tongue deeper, lift my hips to rub my hardening cock against the heat of her pussy, and she moans into my mouth, the vibration thrumming through me.
That single sound is enough to break me free of any restraint.
I push beneath her shirt, rougher than I mean to, and lift it off her, breaking our kiss just long enough to get it over her head.
Her bra quickly follows, tossed to the floor.
I’ve dreamt of what her tits might look like—if her nipples would be the same rosy shade as her lips, if her breasts would feel heavy in my hands.
Any fantasy I had doesn’t come close to reality.
They’re perfect—so full and heavy they don’t even fit in my palms. Before I can think to stop myself, I capture a peaked nipple in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it and giving it a teasing tug with my teeth.
Her back arches, feeding me more of her.
She tosses her head back, releasing a sigh filled with need. I tug her closer, my hands roaming up the curve of her spine. Her nails graze beneath my shirt, scratching up my abdomen, before it’s off, leaving my bare chest flush against hers.
She increases the pace of her grinding, her pussy sliding over my clothed cock. She needs relief, and she’s trying to take it for herself, when I would gladly give it to her—and more.
My hand shoves into her shorts, fingers finding her a slippery mess.
She’s soaked, and I groan knowing it’s all for me.
My cock nearly jumps, wanting to slide between her swollen, soaking center.
Instead, I ignore my own needs and plunge two fingers inside her.
She cries out as her pussy grips around them like it never wants to let go.
I tease her—pumping them in and out, my thumb circling her clit. She gets even wetter. Needier.
“Gavin,” she moans.
It’s the only coherent thing she’s said, and I’m a fucking goner hearing my name slip past her lips in ecstasy.
In one motion, I rearrange us—moving her onto her back and settling my body over hers. Her thighs part for me. An invitation. A yes. And that’s when I know I’m going to fuck her on this couch. That I can’t stop. And I don’t want to.
She tugs at my sweats while I slide her shorts down, until we’re both completely free of any barriers.
Her hand wraps around my cock, stroking it, tracing up and down the length like she’s determining my size.
Then she’s guiding me, swiping my cock between her pussy lips, gathering her arousal until I’m covered in her, and I haven’t even made it inside yet.
I’ve wanted her for so long I worry I might come much faster than I’d like.
But I need her like I need to breathe. I push in—just the tip, just an inch—and the noise that forms in the back of my throat is so foreign I don’t recognize it.
She feels incredible. More than incredible.
Like I want nothing more than to feel her wrapped around my cock for the rest of my fucking life.
So tight and wet, her walls tightening around me perfectly.
I drop my forehead to hers, locking her eyes with mine—one last confirmation—before I sink into her completely. She nods quickly, thighs spreading wider, hands winding around my neck to draw me closer. I start to push in further, my eyes rolling back, the pleasure overwhelming—
My phone blares. Loud. Jarring. Freezing us in place.
The illusion shatters.
It’s Lily.
I set her calls to override Do Not Disturb.
Easing myself out—against every protest in my body—I can’t meet Scottie’s gaze.
“Lily’s calling,” I say quietly. As if that explains enough.
“Hi, bear. What’s wrong?”
It’s the middle of the night. She would only call if something was wrong.
Her voice is quiet, trembling. She sniffles as she tries to breathe through her tears.
Guilt sweeps over me.
My little girl is states away, crying, calling me in the middle of the night—and I was just about to fuck Scottie on the couch.
“I had a nightmare,” she hiccups.
“You’re okay,” I say gently, sparing a glance at Scottie, who’s already partially dressed and avoiding looking at me.
Fuck.
Lily tells me about her dream, guilt stewing low and heavy in my stomach the entire time. I reach for my clothes and pull them on quickly, trying not to think about how the moment we were just in evaporated into smoke.
Meanwhile, Scottie leaves. The door closing behind her echoes through the room.
By the time I’ve calmed Lily and gotten Shannon on the phone, almost thirty minutes have passed.
I sit there in the eerie silence of the house, unsure of what to do next.
At the very least, I need to apologize. Not only did we almost have sex, but we were about to do it recklessly.
No discussion of protection. No conversation about what it meant.
No responsibility. I was inside of her. I know what it feels like to have my cock sheathed within the tight walls of her pussy, one I’m certain was made just for me.
How we’re supposed to move on from that, I don’t know.
And worst of all—it was on some ratty old couch.
None of this is what she deserves. She deserves romance and foreplay and planning and a fucking bed.
I fucked up badly.
It’s late and she’s probably sleeping, but I can’t let the night pass without checking on her.
There’s a faint light glowing through the windows of the pool house. A small sign she’s likely still awake. At least I hope.
I’m about to knock when the sound of my name makes me pause.
At least, that’s what I think I heard.
My breathing stills as my ears strain to listen.
She says it again, this time followed by a moan. And I think there’s a faint buzzing noise.
Is she—
I think she’s—
“Gavin.”
I swallow. Holy fuck. She’s touching herself. Using her vibrator because I left her so unsatisfied she had to finish what I started.
It’s not sane or reasonable or appropriate, but I’m obviously not thinking with my head when I twist the doorknob and let myself inside.
She looks at me expectantly—like she knew I would come, or at least saw my shadow through the door before I entered.
She’s sprawled out on the bed, naked and tangled in sheets that conceal nothing. I had her naked and under me less than an hour ago, but now she’s on full display. I can see all of her at once, and my cock springs back to life. She’s a dream—a fantasy—every goddamn thing I’ve ever wanted and more.
And she’s not stopping on my account. The pink silicone disappears inside her, and my heart rate skyrockets to dangerous levels.
“What are you doing?” I rasp.
It’s a dumb question, but the synapses in my brain aren’t exactly firing.
She smiles—a wicked, sexy little smile that makes me want to bite my fist.
“Taking care of myself since my husband couldn’t finish the job.”
I like it when she calls me husband, even when she’s trying to insult me.
“Sounds like a real jackass,” I tell her, trying not to get completely transfixed by the way her swollen pussy takes that thick vibrator.
“He got me all worked up, and I’ve been trying to come ever since, but I can’t seem to get there.” She pouts, and the sight goes straight to my cock.
“Want some help?” I croak, barely holding on to what little control I have left.
“Please,” she says through a sigh as she presses the head of the vibrator to her clit. “Make me come, Gav. Please.”
It would take an act of God to make me say no.
I set my glasses down, and in three strides I’m at the foot of her bed, dropping a knee onto the mattress, earning a perfect view of her glistening pussy.
“Tell me what you want.”
Her gaze connects with mine—so full of lust and want and something more. Something I’m afraid to let myself hope for.
“Touch me,” she says.
My mouth is salivating—her scent consuming, drawing me in. I want to bury my tongue inside her, lap up her pooling arousal, get lost between her thighs until my beard is soaked in her cum.
Keeping my eyes on hers, I press a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh, causing her hips to buck.
“Whatever my wife wants, she gets.”
I press another kiss—this time to her other thigh, lower. She still has the vibrator pressed to her clit, but I gently take it from her, and she gives it up easily.
“If you don’t like something, just tell me,” I say.
She nods, breathing quick and uneven.
Before I slide the vibrator back inside her, I bring it to my nose and inhale. My eyes roll back at the scent of her. I lick and suck the wetness she left behind clean off it. Her mouth falls open—surprised, turned on, maybe both.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a man licking a woman’s vibrator,” she breathes.
Smirking, I settle between her thighs and plunge the vibrating silicone almost all the way in.
“Good thing I’m not just any man, starlet” I say, before sealing my mouth around her clit.
She cries out, incoherent sounds floating past her lips, back arching off the bed, head thrown back, lost in her building orgasm. I’m relentless, determined to make her come like my life depends on it, all the while ignoring the painful erection straining against my briefs, leaking with pre-cum.
I set a rhythm—going between stimulating her clit with the vibrator while I tease her with my tongue, and pumping the vibrator in and out of her rapidly as I lick and suck all the pleasure pouring out of her.
Scottie’s hips twist and lift and I do my best to control them, to keep her body from denying her relief.
Soon she’s tugging on my hair, unraveling my bun, clamping her thighs on either side of my head, suffocating me in the best way possible.
Her orgasm floods my mouth at the same time my cock pulses and jerks, spilling into my briefs.
I sit up, taking in the sight before me. Scottie is a fucking vision. Flushed skin, wild hair, hooded, satisfied eyes. She curls against the mattress, practically purring, wearing the most stunning smile I’ve ever seen.
“That was incredible,” she says quietly, almost to herself.
As I’m enjoying the view, struggling to take my eyes off her, she starts to move toward me.
It takes me a moment to realize her intentions. She wants to touch me, please me, return the favor.
I stop her before she makes it any closer. “I already came.”
Her eyes go wide. “Like…before you got here?”
My head shakes slowly. I should be embarrassed or self-conscious, but I can’t find it in me to care. I’d gladly come in my pants a thousand times if it meant tasting her while doing it.
“No.” I smile. “During.”
She looks confused for a moment—until her eyes land on the wet spot coming through on my sweatpants.
Her hand goes to cover her mouth, a mix of shock and satisfaction crossing over her face. “You seriously came while you were eating me out?”
I nod, because it’s the truth.
She sits back on her heels, and I can tell by the look on her face that what we just did is starting to settle in.
The last thing I want is for her to regret this—to wish it never happened. Especially when it’s meant so much to me.
Moving to stand, I throw my hair back up and adjust my clothing. Before she can speak or try to take it all back, I cup her face in my hands and place a featherlight kiss to her lips.
“Get some sleep.”