Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Almost sweating, I wake early, feeling warm and toasty in Nash’s arms. The hoodie blanket and my shirt have been pushed up to my chest because Nash’s arms have found their way around my waist, holding me close, his hands on my bare skin.
He groans when I try to wiggle myself free, and I almost go weak because of it, him sounding so damn sexy while looking disheveled and radiating warmth.
It’s so damn tempting.
I think about whether it would be that bad to let my hand glide into his sweats, stroking the obvious morning wood he’s sporting. But I manage to free myself without touching any fun parts and grab my stuff for a run.
The need to clear my head is strong.
North is already waiting for me outside when I silently leave the van, raising an eyebrow but not saying a word.
I’m not quite sure if he saw that I wasn’t alone or if he knew Nash had spent the night with me, but when I tip my head toward the restaurant to let him know I have to change first, he just gives me a stern you-better-hurry look.
Ugh.
I want to retort something like, “You’re showing up to run with me. I didn’t ask you to,” but I think better of it and give him the finger, making the side of his lip slightly pull up.
That’s right, Thundercunt.
When I’m ready, we start our run without talking. The whole way, we’re quiet. It’s peaceful. And when we return to the van, he walks away without having said one word to me today.
I climb back in the van, but Nash is gone. Only his smell still lingers like an ocean breeze. There is another note on the made sheets, and sighing, I read the new poem. ‘I burn for you,’ it says. Well, all I feel is cold now.
What the fuck am I even doing?
I need to get my life together. This state isn’t sustainable in the long run.
My feelings for them never went away. I know that.
They just got buried under hurt, hurt over how they treated me and what they thought about me.
But Saylor was right. They didn’t reject me because they thought I was crazy. They thought I was a liar.
It’s not much better, but now that they know I’m not, they’re trying to make amends. I’m still hurt about how they acted when they decided I wasn’t worth listening to. But if I’m completely honest, the biggest reason I’m pushing them away isn’t my wounded pride or feelings.
It’s fear.
I’m so damn scared of letting them back in, only to be pushed away again.
Because what happens if I forgive them? I’m still in love with all of them and unable to choose.
And they’ll make me choose. Each of them will try to win me over, and then they’ll demand I make a decision, which I can’t do, not only because of them but also because of…
“Saylor,” I whisper, feeling the longing tearing at my heart. “It’s been three days. It’s time for your pretty ass to come back to me.”
Repeatedly mulling over my thoughts won’t help, so I grab a pair of jeans and my green sweater, sniffing it to make sure I can wear it one more time before heading to the restaurant to wash over the sink.
Gosh, what I would give for a shower right now.
I lock the restaurant door behind me after I step inside and head to the bathrooms, locking the main door as well, just to be sure. Stripping out of my sweaty running clothes, I stand naked in front of the sink, grab my coconut-scented soap, and start with my hair.
When the conditioner finally rinses out, I grab my small towel to remove excess water and leave it damp over my shoulder. Then, I wash my body, scrubbing myself with force, my skin turning red. It’s cold like this in here, naked and all wet, so I try to be quick.
A tingling tug on my heart makes me gasp and turn, and suddenly, Saylor stands in front of me, arms crossed over his chest, looking grumpy. He’s about to say something when his eyes scan my body, and the anger is replaced with heat and… concern?
“Fuck, what are you doing? Stop,” he commands, taking a step closer, his hand landing on mine that’s holding the towel, sending a shiver over the back of it.
“Saylor,” I whisper, feeling my nose burn.
He’s back. He’s here.
“I was just about to finish our discussion about you being a brat and unsafe, but it seems we have to have another one on how you’re treating yourself first,” he grumbles, his gaze finding mine.
Treating myself?
“What—” I start, but he cuts me off, his fingers gliding up and down my reddened skin, making it tingle.
“Treat yourself like you would treat the one you love,” he whispers, and I glance down at the red marks I left with my rough scrubbing. “Would you wash me like that?”
I furrow my brow. “No.” Of course, I wouldn’t.
The grin spreading over his face makes his eyes shine. I basically just told him I loved him, but, well, dammit, I do.
“Then be gentle with yourself. You’re mine, and I treat what’s mine with care,” he whispers, the grin softening into a smile while his eyes become hooded. He looks down at my body, his fingers gliding down my upper arms. “Wash yourself, but imagine it’s me washing your perfect body.”
“I—” I start to protest, but he pecks my lips, cutting me off.
Stepping behind me, I can feel him against my back, goose bumps rising everywhere as his arms come around me, and he leans down to whisper in my ear.
“Follow my lead, but be gentle.” Tilting my head, I give him better access to my neck.
I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensations coursing through me.
Saylor’s lips trail along the sensitive curve of my neck, his hands moving softly over my arms like a feather.
I follow with the towel, gently moving it over my skin.
His hands trail down my sides, over my belly, my hips, and my thighs.
I love feeling him after having him gone for so long.
With each kiss and caress, the tension that had gripped me slowly melts away. “Saylor,” I breathe out, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed you.”
He continues to lavish my neck with kisses but pauses long enough to murmur against my skin, “I’ve missed you too…
more than you know.” I turn around to face him.
Our eyes meet, and the intensity in his gaze leaves me breathless.
Without a word, he leans down to kiss my lips.
It’s a kiss that speaks of our unspoken feelings, lingering while his hands glide up and down my sides.
Saylor breaks the kiss and whispers, “I think you’re still dirty. We missed some spots.” His eyes hold a mischievous glint.
“You think?” I tease back, but I’m trembling slightly, and goose bumps cover my skin from his touch and the cold.
“Oh, I’m sure of it.” His tone is raspy as he demands, “Turn around for me.” I do as I’m told and hear him groaning. “Your daddy must have been a baker ’cause you have the nicest set of buns I’ve ever seen.”
I chuckle, looking over my shoulder to see his gaze fixed on my ass. “Are they dirty too?”
“Oh, so damn dirty. You should give them a good rub,” he murmurs, his eyes not leaving my ass.
I throw the towel into the sink and let my hands glide down my sides to my ass cheeks, massaging them, slightly leaning forward to give him a better view. My nipples were already peaked from the cold, but having him watch me like this makes them hard like diamonds.
All his neck kisses and the sensation they left on my skin made me wet, and I know I’m now glistening for him.
Saylor groans, tone raspy as he says, “Heaven is a place on Earth.”
I would give just about anything right now for him to be able to pull down his pants and take me, but since that’s not possible, I stand straight again, my hands finding my breasts.
He steps up behind me, watching me over my shoulder as I touch myself. The tingling sensation on my waist tells me where his hands are now, and I close my eyes on a moan.
“Follow my lead,” Saylor commands, his voice dripping with desire, sending a thrilling shiver down my spine, my heart racing with anticipation.
His hand wanders to my pussy, his fingers gliding up and down the length of my slit. I gasp, my eyelids fluttering open, overwhelmed by a potent mix of arousal and longing. “Oh, fuck,” I whimper out, my voice filled with need.
“Concentrate, Boo. Get your hand where I want it,” Saylor chides softly, and I let my right hand glide down to where he’s making me squirm under his touch. “That’s right, now touch yourself for me. Circle your clit.”
Whimpering, I start rubbing myself while he’s still watching over my shoulder and occasionally kissing my neck. I’m so wet, and my heart is beating rapidly. It’s as if it is beating out of my chest while my other hand still squeezes my breast.
“I wonder what happens when I do this,” Saylor muses, but when I turn my head to ask him what he means, he just kisses my lips.
At the same time, I feel the tingles inside me and break away from the kiss to gasp for air, my wide eyes meeting his.
“Interesting,” Saylor smirks, and I look down to see that his hand is next to mine on my pussy, and he is fingering me.
He’s inside me.
“Oh my God,” I whisper while he begins to move his hand. At the same time, he resumes kissing my neck, and I let my head fall back, succumbing to the pleasure wracking my body.
He’s not stretching me, and when I clench my pussy, I still feel empty, but the sensation of his fingers inside me is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s like a shivering vibration running up and down my walls, over and over again.
So damn good.
I let out a moan, desperately moving my hips in sync with his movements, trying to get myself to the edge with his help. It’s the perfect combination, and my body tenses up.
Saylor seems to sense I’m on the brink because he whispers in my ear, “Come for me, Boo.”
My breath is heavy, and I shudder, Saylor groaning behind me when I moan, circling my clit faster. “Saylor,” I whimper, closing my eyes as the sensation overload sends me over the edge, my thighs trembling, drawing a growl of appreciation from him.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he whispers in my ear, making another shiver run down my back.
The sweat pearls that formed from his touch race down my skin while my knees weaken as I come down from my high.
“Shh, grab the sink,” Saylor commands, and I do, taking some deep breaths before I stand straight again, my pulse in my throat.
“You just fingered me,” I say in disbelief, and when I turn to look back at him, a proud grin spreads over his whole face.
“I did.” He smirks, leaning in to peck my lips. “And I can finally say you’re as beautiful from the inside as you are from the outside.”
I laugh, exasperated. “You’re such an idiot.”
“And you love it,” he says softly, his gaze earnest when he cups my cheek.
“I do,” I agree, making him smile.
And I love you.
So much.