Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-Five
Alistair
Often when you think you’re at the end of something, you’re at the beginning of something else.
—Fred Rogers
Yesterday was like something out of a dream.
Valentine’s Day with the most amazing woman I’d ever met. Bending her over a snowmobile and fucking her.
A great dinner with even better company.
A night filled with more amazing sex.
Hell, this entire visit was a dream come true, and I wasn’t ready for it to end.
A set of arms hugged my waist, and Pam peeked around me. “What’s on the menu for tonight, Chef?”
“Seared king oyster mushroom scallops and roasted asparagus. A nice chardonnay. I know it isn’t your preferred boxed wine, but it’ll have to do.”
“Hey,” she said, drawing her brows together. “Leave my boxed wine alone.”
I dabbed a spoon in the garlic butter sauce I was braising the mushrooms in and held it out to her. “Give it a taste.”
I slipped the spoon into her mouth, watching her full lips close around it.
Fuck.
She managed to make the most mundane things so sexy.
“Shit, that’s good,” she mumbled when I pulled the spoon away.
I loved cooking for her.
She’d spent so many years of her life preparing meals for everyone else. She deserved it.
I jostled the asparagus in the pan and gave it a little poke with the tongs to make sure it wasn’t getting mushy. “Can you grab some plates out of the cabinet?” I used the tongs like a pointer, directing Pam to the cabinet that had all the tableware.
“I think I can manage that.” She stood on her tiptoes and, with some effort, grabbed two plates, which she set on the counter beside me.
“Why don’t you take a seat? Relax a little bit.”
She walked around the island and climbed onto one of the stools. “I’m surprised this place doesn’t have a dining room.”
I grinned and plated our food. “It did. I ripped it out to make the living room bigger, then had the windows and deck added on. I always eat alone, so it didn’t make sense to have a room I’d never use.”
She was quiet like she didn’t know what to say.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted her to say.
Did I want her to tell me to sell my shares and move to Briar Glenn?
I poured us both a glass of wine and sat down next to her.
There was a noticeable tension between us, like the illusion of the past few days was finally crumbling into reality. Every second that passed brought us closer to having to say goodbye again.
She cleared her throat and popped a “scallop” into her mouth, chewing it with a little hum. “This is amazing.”
“Thank you.” I nibbled on a piece of asparagus, having lost my appetite to the ball of nerves in the pit of my stomach.
Pam set her fork down and braced her arm against the counter as she stared at me. “Al, we have to talk about this at some point. The whole reason I came out here was to support you through this.”
I took a hefty swig of my wine, almost draining the glass. “I know. I’ve just worked so hard to build that company. I’m not sure I’m ready to give it all up.”
“You wouldn’t be giving it up; you’d be passing it along to Jonathan.”
I tsked and shook my head. “You know, that’s the funny thing. Twenty years ago, that was me. I was in Jonathan’s shoes, watching as the older guys aged out, took their money, and retired—and now I’m the older guy. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.”
She laughed and gripped my thigh. “What did you think? That you were going to work until you died? What kind of life would that be?”
“I don’t know what I thought. I just…thought I had more time.”
That signature snort of hers made me smile. “I know that feeling well.”
The death of her husband, his pension transferring over to her, passing the bakery to Tegan. Pam had been through a lot of major life changes over the last few years.
“How did you cope? You were thrown into a lot of things all at once.”
She let out a deep breath. “You know, for years the bakery was the only thing I had outside of the kids and Don—the one thing that was mine—and I’d worked so fucking hard to make it successful.
I always hoped Tegan would take it over, but when that day finally came, it was hard giving it up.
I felt like I was letting go of the one thing that defined me.
But it wasn’t the only thing that defined me.
“Sure, there was an adjustment period, but retiring meant I had more time for all those knitting projects I’d set aside.
I could watch all the movies and read all the books I’d missed out on.
I could spend time with my kids without thinking about work the entire time.
I could live in the moment. And if I wasn’t retired, I wouldn’t have been able to drop everything and fly out here to see you.
You might feel like you’re losing a part of yourself by selling your shares, but you’re gaining something precious, something that we take for granted: time. ”
Time.
It was something I’d come to appreciate in my relationship with her. Regardless of how long we spent together, it never felt like it was enough.
I put my hand on top of hers, gripped it tight, and lost myself in her emerald eyes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
This woman.
How was I lucky enough to stumble right into her path?
To convince her to date me—long distance—after one date?
Minotaurs didn’t have fated mates, but whatever act of the goddess this was, I was thankful I’d been blessed with Pam in my life.
Bringing her hand up to my lips, I placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Come on, pretty lady. Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
—
“Why don’t you let me help you?” I asked, watching Pam bustle around the kitchen with a bottle of countertop cleaner and a roll of paper towels.
“You did the cooking. Let me clean up.” She looked across the living room at the fireplace. “Why don’t you light a fire? That would be nice and cozy for our last night together.”
Our last night together.
The very thought was enough to make me depressed, and she was still here.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart. Tonight is all about you.”
I flipped the switch for the damper and set to work stacking the wood. Using a lighter to ignite a ball of lint and wax I’d made myself, I shoved it into the center with a handful of twigs.
That would do the trick.
In a few minutes, we’d have a roaring fire.
Pam stood at the sink with her back to me, humming absentmindedly while she scrubbed a saucepan.
She was wearing leggings and the hoodie I’d given her, the hem hanging down over the backs of her thighs because it was so big on her.
Quietly I crept over to her, making sure to step lightly so my hooves didn’t clack against the polished floor and give me away.
When I was a hair’s breadth from her, I grabbed her waist. She shrieked, and the pan clattered into the sink as I hoisted her into my arms.
“Alistair!” she squealed. “You scared the shit out of me!”
I sat her on the island and grinned. “Let me make it up to you.”
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her leggings and yanked them down.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
I lowered to my knees and threw her legs over my shoulders. “Brace yourself, babe. It’s time for dessert.”
I gripped her thighs, pulled her to the edge of the counter, and brought that tasty little cunt right to my mouth.
“Alistair,” she moaned at the first swipe of my tongue.
I groaned and ran the wide pad of my tongue up and down her entrance, delighted by the fact that she was already wet and wanting.
“You taste so fucking good, Pam,” I said between desperate flicks of my tongue.
She whined and rolled her hips, driving my face into her cunt again.
“Grab my horns and ride my face,” I mumbled.
Releasing one of her thighs, I held a hand out to her and pulled her up into a sitting position. The counter was probably freezing on her ass, but I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted to taste her just like this.
Pam gripped my horns, and I dove between her thighs again. With each pass of my tongue over her clit, she rocked into me, gasping and mumbling unintelligible words under her breath.
I loved her like this, lost in her pleasure, allowing me to worship her pussy like she deserved.
I turned my attention to her entrance, pulsing my tongue in and out of her as fast as I could.
“Alistair,” she breathed, thrusting against my face.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Use me,” I murmured against her center.
I ran one of my fingers alongside my tongue, getting it nice and wet before I brought it to her clit. With each swirl of my fingertip and each thrust of my tongue, her breathing increased, the clench of her thighs around my face became tighter, and her heels sharply dug into my back.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” she rasped on the tail end of a moan.
Good.
I wanted her to come. Wanted her to leave my face fucking soaked.
Replacing my finger with my tongue, I flicked the tip back and forth over her clit, and her hips bolted forward.
“Yes. Yes.” She yanked my horns, pressing me so deep into her cunt that I could barely breathe.
I sucked her clit into my mouth, curling my lips around it and latching on hard, just how she liked it.
“Fuck! Alistair!” Her thighs clamped around my head, and she rode my face through her orgasm, her body spasming against me.
I worked her through it with slow strokes of my tongue, soothing away the hurt from how hard I’d sucked her clit.
Fuck.
My face was soaked, and my cock was throbbing.
I grazed my face along her inner thigh and groaned, “I gotta have you right now.”
I lifted her off the counter, slammed the light switch, and gently laid her down next to the fireplace.
It only took a second before I was on top of her, caging her in with my arms and frantically pressing my lips to hers.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, threaded her fingers through my hair, and deepened the kiss. Our tongues clashed, our breaths coming out as desperate labored pants.
My clothes and the hoodie covering her upper body felt like too much space between us. I wanted to be as close to her as possible.
“I need you,” she groaned against my lips. “Please.”
Her desperation made my cock throb.