Chapter 8 #2
I didn’t have to shift my hips to urge on my orgasm. I didn’t even have to move a single beat. All I had to do was close my eyes and let the tingles completely take over.
Like they were now.
But this wasn’t like the orgasms he’d given me before.
This was far more intense.
This was a spark, like the ones in the sky during the Fourth of July—and not just from my clit, but from inside me too.
My legs shook.
My stomach clenched.
My mouth screamed out every word that came to me.
The feeling started somewhere low, and it rose. Not slowly. This was a speed I’d never felt. It didn’t just move through my body. It blanketed me, controlled me, and fully owned me.
“Whiskey!”
And when I thought it was going to let up and lighten, it came on even stronger.
So did his movements.
His tongue circled me; his finger thrust into me and arched toward my stomach.
I couldn’t breathe.
I wouldn’t be able to see even if the light were on.
I couldn’t hear over the ringing and pounding in my ears.
The only thing I could do was take everything he was giving me and enjoy this wild ride, which was climbing me higher and higher until I was dangling at the peak. He didn’t keep me there for long. He licked me well past that part, and that was when the shudders took over.
I didn’t know if they were only in my stomach or if they were rebounding through my whole body. I could no longer distinguish anything that was happening.
I just knew that nothing in my life had ever felt this good.
And all I could do was scream, “Ohhh!” When my voice ran out, “Yeaaah,” was what came out after a quick inhale.
Every bit of me was on fire, and when that changed, when the after took over, I became so fragile; it was as though I were a petal, and even his breath threatened to tear me.
It seemed he sensed even that need because he pulled his tongue away, his finger now gone too, and he kissed my pussy. “I wish you knew how fucking hot that was. How perfect it was.” He kissed lower. “In every way.”
“You don’t have to wish—I know.” I still couldn’t catch my breath. “And you’re right, that was unlike anything. But I don’t think that’s due to it being my first time. I think you just really know what you’re doing.”
“There’s that, yes.”
I pressed my thighs against the sides of his face, the feel of his beard on my tender skin sending me over an edge I hadn’t expected. “I still … can’t even feel my legs.”
He chuckled. “That feeling isn’t going to come back anytime soon.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have, what, a little over two and a half hours until you have to go?”
I still couldn’t see his eyes. His face. Or his expression that would give me some kind of clue as to just how serious he was.
“Hold on a second.” I tightened my fingers around his hair. “You’re going to do that again?”
“Yes.” He kissed my clit. “And again.”
When I walked into the living room of Whiskey’s suite, he was sitting on the couch, his phone in his hand, dressed in a pair of gray sweats. Shirtless, like always, his muscles so tight even though he wasn’t flexing.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” That was what I’d immediately thought when, after showering and getting dressed, I came out of the bathroom and found an empty room.
“There’s no reason to lie in there if I’m not going to sleep.”
“But isn’t it more comfortable than the couch?”
He set his phone down and spread his arms across the tops of the cushions. “I have freedom on the couch. A bed is full of tight sheets and a heavy comforter. Every toss and turn pisses me off a little more. I feel like I’m in fucking jail.”
“You felt that way when I was in bed with you?” I walked toward him and stopped next to the coffee table, putting a few feet between us.
“Not at all. You made it different. You made it … tolerable.” He ran a hand over the top of his hair, the gel long gone, so the dark locks were flat.
I adjusted the bag on my shoulder—something I’d retrieved after my first night here. “Are you headed home today?”
He shook his head and then shrugged.
I knew that feeling.
Home was a place you eventually had to return to, but you’d rather chew off your legs.
I couldn’t make that feeling better for him.
I couldn’t take it away.
Reality had set in for us, which meant I was going to sneak into Dean’s house so I could change into my uniform even though there wasn’t a single ounce of me that wanted to set foot in that place ever again.
But I was already running a little late since Whiskey had kept his word and spent hours just where he’d promised, so I really had to go.
“I don’t know how to say goodbye,” I admitted. “The first time seemed a little easier—not sure why.”
But I did.
So did he—I was sure of it.
“Come here.” He opened his arms.
When I stepped into them, he wrapped them around my legs, his face buried into my stomach. I leaned down, my mouth going into the softness of his hair, the scent of his cologne even reaching up here.
I wasn’t going to ask for his number.
And I knew, in my gut, he wasn’t going to ask for mine.
We had met when we needed each other the most. Maybe, in a different time, in a different place, we’d meet again.
That was what I told myself anyway.
And that was the only reason I could say, “I hope you find what you love,” without crying. “I want that for you,” I whispered in my quietest voice.
He tightened his grip and slowly looked up at me.
I recognized the pain in his eyes.
The grief.
The sleeplessness.
“Some people don’t like to let it all out, in fear that once those words are spoken, they can’t take them back.” His fingers spread across my thighs, the tips reaching my butt. “That’s you.”
I nodded, the movement making the knot in my throat larger.
“I hope, one day, you can let it out, Sky. I want that for you.”
I kissed him.
In a way that made my heart punch against the inside of my chest. I even held his face so he couldn’t move. All he could do was take.
And he did.
When I finally pulled away, his eyes gradually opened, and he looked at me like he wanted more.
“Goodbye, Whiskey.”
I worked my way out of his grip, my pace faster than normal as I made my way to the door. When I had it ajar, I turned toward him.
I didn’t expect him to say a word.
He hadn’t last time.
But when he voiced, “Goodbye, Sky,” and the door closed behind me, what I also hadn’t anticipated was the tears that formed in my eyes.
The ones that fell over my lids.
And the ones that dripped past my chin.