Chapter 29
Eden
I’m having one major case of déjà vu! Bryce’s childhood home is thumping, and it’s full of the same people who frequented his parties in high school, they’re just several years older.
Unlike the first time I came to one of his ragers, I’m not half as introverted.
In high school I had zero interest in partying or drinking.
It’s why Mum and Dad love me so much and clearly think I’m the best. Jenna wasn’t so well behaved.
Pia had to bribe me to get me here for the first time.
It was only the promise of seeing Sloane that convinced me to give the party a shot.
I’m glad I did though, because Sloane asked me out the morning after.
She’d gotten pretty wasted, and I’d looked after her.
She thought she’d blown her chance with me, but I was totally nuts about her and snapped her hand off at the chance to go on a date.
The rest, as they say, is history. I went to several of Bryce’s shindigs after that and he became a part of our weird little social circle.
I’m sad we lost contact in college, but I suppose that doesn’t matter now, because here we are, in his mum’s kitchen, drinking beer and reminiscing.
I’m happy to hear he still paints. Although Bryce was a jock, he was a really talented artist.
The night progresses as expected. Drinking, beer pong, dancing and more drinking. By half eleven, though, I’ve swapped to water because I’m very aware I have a flight in the morning. Plus, I plan to make my last night with Sloane memorable.
Bella and the gang are staying at Bryce’s just like we did back in the day.
Sloane and I opted out because we both need privacy, and our own bed.
Fuck, it feels weird calling my bed ours, but it is now.
Sloane might not have fully moved in, but I already consider the apartment hers, too.
She’s got a few more boxes to shift, which Todd has promised to help with.
I wanted to have her moved in before leaving, but we simply didn’t have enough time.
My heart beats extra hard when I think of living with Sloane full-time. It’s shitty I’ll have to wait a few months to actually be here with her, but it’s happening and that’s all that matters. We’re where we should have been a few years ago.
“Are you ready to go?” Sloane whispers in my ear as we sit outside by the fire pit. I’d almost suggest we take a walk to the secret garden we found the first time we were here for a quickie, but leaving sounds much better. We can take our time.
I want to touch and lick every part of her before the morning comes.
“So ready,” I reply.
Pia is completely blotto, but Becca assures me they’ll get her home safely in the morning. Bella tries in vain to get us to stay, but Sloane is already halfway to her car, and I’m close behind.
I give everyone a quick hug, but don’t linger because I don’t want to get upset. I’ll see the girls in a couple of months, maybe sooner.
In the car, Sloane caresses my thigh and gives me a kiss. Any sadness I was feeling is replaced with pure lust. I can’t wait to get my hands on her body.
By the time we hit the road, Sloane is dialling in the Bluetooth for music, and her hand is firmly on my inner thigh. I’m so keyed up I can barely focus. The wind through the cracked window does nothing to cool the fire in my knickers.
Sloane glances at me, lips curled into a smile that tells me she’s thinking all kinds of naughty things.
“That dress is criminal,” I comment.
She licks her lips. “I chose it just for you.”
We’ve stopped at a red light. She laughs at my reaction, which is pretty lecherous, to be honest. She leans over to pull me in for a quick, bruising kiss.
I taste the sharpness of the lemon water she consumed all evening.
My senses are full of her and the brush of her tongue before she pulls away to continue driving, and it’s enough to make my skin hum with excitement.
I grip her wrist, pinning her hand between my thighs. I want her to feel exactly how much she’s getting to me. She can’t feel how wet I am through my jeans, but she can sure as shit feel the heat.
We drive the rest of the way barely speaking. Just the thump of our favourite playlist and Sloane biting her lip, drumming her fingers impatiently above my kneecap, break through the tension. When we finally pull up outside the apartment we’re both practically vibrating.
Inside, I kick the door shut and Sloane’s already on me, pressing me into the wall, her mouth on my neck. There’s nothing hesitant about it. She knows my body and knows every spot that makes me come undone.
My hands are everywhere—under her jacket, slipping up beneath her dress, tugging at the zipper. She’s so soft and so strong at once. It’s all I can do to keep myself upright.
We break for half-second intervals, just to suck some air into our lungs. Every touch is electric, even through our clothes. It’s fast and sloppy and perfect. I barely make it to the couch before she’s got me sitting and is straddling my lap, grinding down.
“I hope you’re ready for this,” she teases, nipping at my ear.
I sweep her hair back so I can look her in the eye, my voice unsteady. “Bring it on.”
She palms my jaw, her thumb running over my mouth, and for a suspended moment she just looks at me like she’s memorising my face.
I pull her down again, giving away just how desperate I am for her, which makes her smirk.
Her hands are under my shirt, lifting it over my head.
She grins when my bare chest is revealed.
Her cool palms and hot mouth cover every inch of my upper body, and god I want to bottle this feeling for later when I miss her too much to sleep.
I arch into her, and she takes her time, trailing her tongue from my collarbone to my stomach. She’s gentle at first, peppering me with these ridiculous, ticklish kisses, which make me giggle until she sinks her teeth in to remind me who’s in charge.
We’re a tangle of limbs, knocking a throw pillow to the floor, and soon the rest of our clothes join it. Sloane is so beautiful, it feels unfair to the rest of us mere mortals.
I map her body with my hands. She lets herself go soft and heavy into mine, sighing my name while she rakes her nails across my back. The sounds she makes are my favourite thing in the world.
When she’s got me right on the edge of foreplay insanity she slows it all down, cupping the back of my head and kissing me, slow and deep, until I feel like I might come apart from just that.
I lose track of time. I lose track of everything except her breathing and our racing hearts and the way our bodies fit together exactly the way I remember from high school, but so much better.
“Do you want to play?” Sloane coos into my ear.
“Fuck yes,” I gasp.
She pulls back and flicks her tongue against my upper lip.
“Strap on, baby.”
I laugh because she sounds like the dude in the Fantastic Four who shouts, “Flame on!”
Sloane’s eyes twinkle with mirth. Her finger finds my nipple and gives it a pinch. “I’m waiting, Sawyer.”
I’m a little ashamed to admit I almost launch my girlfriend across the room in a bid to get my strap-on from the bedroom closet. Thankfully, she’s more than used to my dumb ass.
In my rush, I get tangled in the goddamn harness. I’m completely flustered by the time I make it back to the living room and a very naked and waiting Sloane.
“Sit down,” she commands in a smooth, velvety voice.
I’m not stupid enough to argue. Why the hell would I want to? Sloane is going to destroy me tonight, and I can’t fucking wait.
Sitting down, I swallow hard as Sloane rises from the couch next to me, bringing both hands up to her hair to ruffle it. I’m entranced.
She straddles my thighs and looks down, drawing my gaze to the dildo standing erect and brushing her lips. Two fingers hook under my chin and raise my head up, naturally making my eyes raise to hers.
“I want you to fuck me hard, Eden.”
Her words rip through me like a live wire.
I put my hands behind her hips and pull her down, the head of the toy slipping to her entrance but nowhere near as deep as she needs it.
The toy teases her the way I know drives her nuts.
God, she’s so wet already. We’re not going to need any lube.
I can see her pleasure already running down the shaft.
She’s going to explode when I bury myself in her.
“Say please,” I toss back, just to hear her curse at me.
“Please, Eden, fuck—” There’s a quiver in her voice, a rawness I haven’t heard in years, and it nearly undoes me.
I grip her hips and hold the base steady. Sloane tilts her hips and lowers herself fully, taking me in—slow, deep and with a perfect unhurried confidence.
Watching her face as she sinks onto the toy is always the best part, the way her lashes flutter and her lips part. She breathes out so hard you’d think she’d been holding it in for hours.
She rolls her hips slowly at first, almost cautiously, until she can’t hold back any longer.
Her hands press to my shoulders to keep herself steady.
I slide my palm flat up her back, feeling every trembling muscle under her skin.
God, she’s stunning: flushed from collarbone to cheek, pupils blown wide and wild just for me.
I let her set the pace for all of a minute before I grip her hips, guiding her into a bruising rhythm, making the whole harness strain against my own clit. She moves with me, breath hitching every time she bottoms out. The slap of her ass against my upper thighs is obscene and it’s getting me off.
It’s all I can do not to beg her myself.
Every grind of her hips, every little clench around the silicone, lands like a gut punch right where I want it.
I drag her closer until our bodies are fused.
I can smell her. I taste the sweat rolling down her neck when I press my face to her skin and nip at the curve of her shoulder.
She moans in that low, tight-throated way that means she’s close, and fuck, I want to keep her right there forever.
Sloane moves with intention, catching my rhythm and matching me.
Her hands are tangled in the hair at the back of my neck, keeping me locked to her collarbone, like if she lets go she’ll fall apart completely.
I brace both hands around her waist and let her take what she needs, and it’s so goddamn hot watching her use me.
She leans back, digging her fingers into my thighs, arching her body like some beautiful fucking goddess, and rides me hard. Her head tips back, mouth drops open in a silent gasp, and when I bring my thumb to her clit she grabs my wrist and grinds down, using the leverage to chase her orgasm.
I want to give it to her. I want to see her lose it. So I move my thumb in quick, tight circles, the exact way she likes, and I feel the way she shudders under my touch.
She comes suddenly, so hard she practically folds over me, clutching my shoulders for dear life, clenching around the toy in a series of pulsing spasms.
“Jesus, Eden,” she pants.
I can’t speak just yet. I’m still lost in the vision of her. My clit hums with a need that’s bordering on urgent. I manage to groan out, “Babe,” which makes Sloane sit back and look into my eyes. She’s sweaty and gasping but ready to give me what I need.
“Bedroom,” she growls.
Her dismount isn’t graceful, but then again, neither is my scramble off the couch.
I wriggle the harness down my legs as soon as we step inside our bedroom, letting it drop to the floor. Sloane is on me in a second, turning me and practically throwing me to the bed.
She kisses me like she needs it to keep living, and for all I know, maybe she does. I’m on my back in seconds, groaning as she drowns me in her hair and the weight of her body.
The laughter stops instantly when her palm slides down my stomach, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise. I open my legs for her with zero hesitation, and Sloane wraps my thigh over her hip, locking us together.
“God, I love you,” Sloane breathes against my cheek, her hand hovering at the juncture of my thigh. She’s in no rush now, apparently—she’s going to torture me instead. Perfect.
Her eyes are black with intent. She knows exactly how to unravel me and seems determined to take the slow path this time.
She kisses me like she’s savouring every second and every inch of my skin, slipping her tongue between my lips and nipping gently at the seam.
I fist her hair and pull her harder against me. She grins, delighted with my desperation. I can’t believe I forgot how deliciously evil she can be.
Her fingers finally slip between my pussy lips. They find me wet enough that it’s embarrassing.
She takes her time with my clit with slow, insistent circles that make my whole body arch off the bed.
I’m so sensitive, I gasp into her mouth, and she swallows the sound with another greedy kiss.
The heel of her palm presses down while two fingers tease around my entrance, never quite giving me what I want.
I whine and rut against her shamelessly.
“Please,” I say.
She’s done torturing me now, and I am so bloody grateful because my clit is almost in pain. Sliding her body down, she sucks me in with her mouth and thrusts her two fingers inside. I clamp down immediately and I know this will be a record for how fast an orgasm arrives and crashes over.
It’s possible I passed out. I hear my own scream and then everything dulls down to a beautiful silence, only filled with Sloane’s appreciative groans as she cleans me up.
We spend the next few hours tangled up, half asleep but never letting go, our bodies sticky with sex and sweat. This is the best going-away present I could have asked for. Sloane, her skin, her mouth and her body pressed to mine, like an anchor, so I don’t float away before I have to leave.