Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
STONE
Hazel sits cross legged on the couch in the living room of our suite, balancing her fruit plate on one bent knee while her laptop is open and balanced on the other.
She traps her lower lip between her teeth while she looks over something Sierra sent her.
It’s actually wild how normal this all feels.
The thought of being separated from her, even by walls, makes my skin itch. I want her near me all the time.
She picks up a piece of watermelon and slips it into her mouth. After she finishes chewing she sucks the juice off her fingers absentmindedly. My mind immediately goes to the memory of her on her knees sucking on something a lot more enjoyable.
I have to shift in my chair to hide myself adjusting my dick.
I’m so obsessed with her it’s not even funny.
I should be concerned about our age difference.
But I just don’t see the nine year age gap as a problem.
I’m sure she doesn’t either, especially when the other douchebag she’s been seeing is even older than me.
Speaking of him. I have some thoughts that I think she should consider. Hopefully she’ll be receptive.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask quietly.
She looks up and gives me a smile. “Yes.”
“Have you sent what you have written to your editor to check through?”
Her smile falls. “No. I think I need to rework it before I do a check-in with her.”
“Can I read what you have so far?”
Her lips part to say no, but I cut her off with a raised hand.
“Hear me out.” I wait until she closes her mouth to continue. “I just think you need more of an opinion before you abandon the work you’ve already put in on it. Especially on the word of someone who is likely a bit envious.”
By likely I mean is for sure. You’ll never convince me otherwise. He may have Hazel fooled, but I guarantee he’s planting seeds of doubt purposefully. Why else would he have torn her work apart like that? There’s no doubt in my mind.
“I’m not ready to send it to my editor. That’s not really how it works anyway. I usually just send the entire manuscript at a deadline they give me.”
“Let me read it then.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t bullshitting you when I said I loved your first book. I ate it up so fast I didn’t even leave my kitchen island until I finished it.”
“I don’t know if I trust you to be honest.”
“That’s understandable.” Even if it stings. “But as a fellow creative, I think I could provide sound advice and feedback. I might just write music, but it is still writing.”
“What you do is amazing, Stone. I have nothing but absolute respect for your talent. I’m just nervous about letting anyone see my work. It’s not a reflection of how I feel about you.”
I’d love to slip down that line of questioning right now, but her career is more important.
“I’ll be gentle.” My lips tilt upward in a slow smile. “Please.”
I see the moment she relents. Her shoulders loosen, and she sets the plate on the coffee table. She walks over with her laptop open and hands it to me after pressing a few keys.
“Here you go. I can’t watch people read my work, so I’m going to go take a shower. Come find me once you finish reading.”
I take the laptop in one hand and grab her wrist in the other, stopping her hasty retreat. “Thank you for trusting me.”
She leans down willingly when I tug on her arm. I press my lips to hers in a lingering but relatively chaste kiss. If I don’t keep it PG, I’ll end up buried nine inches inside her and then I may lose ground on being able to read what she’s got so far. I’m not going to risk it, so I pull away first.
I do watch her go though, her full hips and ass sway as she navigates through the room and disappears into the bedroom. As she shuts the door, I turn my attention to the document in front of me.
I’m hooked from literally the first page. The way she’s woven this story with threads that are just similar enough to the last one yet also stand completely on their own is incredible. The more I read the more angry I become at her mentor. I don’t see how any of his criticism is valid.
This is good.
Better than good.
I always thought he must be envious, but now that I’ve read this, I know it. He gives her the harshest feedback because he’s jealous. He wants to be as good as she is, but he’s not. I don’t need to read a single word he’s written to know that. There’s no other explanation.
I’m finished reading by the time she comes out of the bathroom. Her hair is wrapped in a towel, and she’s just wearing one of the plush, terrycloth bathrobes provided by the hotel. She glances nervously at me as she walks past.
“Did you finish already?” she asks.
I close her laptop and nod. “I did.”
“And?” I can hear the tension in her voice.
“And it’s so fucking good. I’m in awe of you.”
“Really?” Her breath whooshes of her along with the question.
“Yes.” I cross the room and yank her toward me with the belt. “I love the way you wove the characters from the first book into this story without it feeling like they’re the main characters again.”
She smiles up at me. “Thank you.”
“I’m not done yet.” I pull at the belt until the robe falls open down the center of her body. Her skin is still flushed pink from the scalding shower she took. “I wish I had the rest of the book to sit here and binge read. Your mind is the most incredible place.”
As I trail a fingertip from upwards from her belly button, the skin pebbles in its wake.
The way her body is so responsive to every touch drives me wild with need.
Her eyes turn heavy lidded as I slip my palm under her breast, gently grazing her piqued nipple with the pad of my thumb.
I turn myself in the chair and tug her down onto my lap.
She leans forward and presses her lips to mine.
I push the robe off her shoulders until it falls in a heap at my feet.
She tenses, and it kills me to know she feels uncomfortable.
I lift her wrist and break our kiss only to gently press my lips to her scar.
I want her to know how achingly beautiful she is.
Every scar is proof of her resilience. Her will to keep living even through the most dire of moments.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, Hazel Archer. From the inside out.”
The corner of her mouth quirks up, and I know her first instinct is to say something sarcastic.
To distract her I lean down and take her nipple into my mouth.
Her fingers glide through my hair as she arches into my touch.
The bow of her back thrusts her tits up to me like some sort of carnal offering.
I release the rosy tip with a pop, intent on focusing the same attention on another when another scar comes into view.
It’s white against her skin and just below the swell of her breast. There’s a matching one under her other one.
I’m distracted by her palm slipping beneath my shorts and pulling my cock out.
She wraps her fist around my length and tugs gently.
Every single touch she gives me feels better than the last. As she works my length, I lean back and take advantage of her open thighs.
I run my fingers over the small, neatly trimmed patch of curls and along her slit.
She’s already so wet my fingers glide effortlessly over her hot skin.
Her grip on me tightens when I find her clit with my thumb. She shifts her body closer to mine, and I remember that we’re out of condoms. Fuck.
“Hazel, baby,” my voice is hoarse as she continues to stroke me. “I’m out of condoms.”
She goes still over me. I swear I can nearly hear her thoughts as she looks at me through a haze of lust.
“I have an IUD, and I’ve always used condoms with,” she trails off thankfully.
The last thing I want to hear is his name while she’s naked on my lap.
“I get tested regularly. I have the results from my last one on my phone. I’m all clear.” I reach toward my phone, intent on showing her when she rocks her hips forward. The heat of her pussy near my cock makes me lose my grip on my sanity.
“I trust you.” She lines me up and slides down my length, sheathing me in the wet, hot heat of her cunt.
The feel of her mixed with those three words sends me into feral fucking need.
Her pussy clenches around me as if she can’t get enough of the feeling of me raw inside her.
She rocks back and forth in a wave like motion, grinding her clit against me every time she takes me all the way deep inside.
It’s been years since I’ve fucked without a condom, and I almost forgot how good it feels.
I can’t take it. I lift her by the hips until my cock falls from her center. If she keeps doing what she has been, I’m going to come embarrassingly fast. I push her laptop to the side and guide her face down onto the table. This angle of her body is a new level of carnal.
Her legs part revealing her slick, pink flesh ready for me. I drop to my knees, needing her to come first because that’s just the kind of man I am. She cries out when my tongue slips between her folds. I’ve already memorized her body so reaching her clit is second nature.
“Fuck, yes,” she whispers on a shaky breath. She lifts one thigh onto the table, completely opening herself to me.
She’s. Fucking. Perfect.
I slip two fingers inside her, curling them along her front wall until they find the perfect spot.
I fist my cock, squeezing it, as she rocks back against my face.
She grips the edge of the table and tilts her hips, so I have access to any part of her that I want.
My lips pull her pulsing nub between them and suck.
She comes with a cry. Her walls clench around my fingers in unsteady tremors. I can’t hold back any longer. Before she’s even fully come down from her orgasm I shoot to my feet, line my cock up and thrust inside her.
“Fuuuccckk,” I groan as I bottom out inside her, watching the way her pussy swallows every inch of my length.