Chapter 31
Willow
Orgasms (This needs several check marks)
Against the wall
Going downtown (him)
“Holy shit,” I said into the empty room, my body shaking from the powerful orgasm and the toy still vibrating between my thighs where I’d dropped it after the second wave hit me.
“Holy shit,” I said again, fumbling to turn it off.
My head spun in the best way, and I tried to calm the trembles running through my body.
I stared at the ceiling as if looking for an answer to a question I hadn’t asked about the pleasure that was still rippling through me.
I’d had a few errands to run after Deacon had left, and then Hollis wanted to get dinner—I felt like I’d been anticipating this all day and it hadn’t disappointed.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and my heart jumped, wondering if it was Deacon.
If he’d somehow sensed that I’d been imagining him the entire time, picturing his fingers and mouth and…
everything. I let my head loll to the side against the pillow as the trembling subsided and I sank into it.
I pictured his smile, and a warmth spread through my belly.
I finally grabbed the phone, but the message was from Zoe, not Deacon.
Zoe: I bought the same one you did!
She included a photo of the same toy I’d just tested out, only hers was black.
Zoe: How is it?
Willow:
Zoe: Did Captain America use it with you?
Willow: No!
I thought about leaving it there, but I felt like magic was still swirling through my body and I was going to explode if I couldn’t share.
Willow: He bought me lube, though.
Zoe: No one’s ever given me that useful a gift. Marry him.
I stretched on the bed, pressing my thighs together and tugging Deacon’s shirt I hadn’t given back yet across my chest.
I slowly slid my legs off the side of the bed, my skin feeling electric, and I wondered if I’d been missing the feeling the whole time.
And I’d done this alone. The release when I’d been on the phone with Deacon had been powerful, but this was something even better, and I imagined what it would be like to feel that way every time, what it would feel like to be next to someone when I did.
Next to Deacon. I shivered at the way the thought seemed to slide up my spine, but even through wanting that, I took note of the looseness in my body and the heat on my cheeks.
I could make myself feel this way without anyone else.
And there was one person I wanted to tell. Before I could talk myself out of it, I hit the icon to FaceTime Deacon, who picked up immediately. “Hey,” I said, tucking a curl behind my ear.
“Look at that smile,” he said. His brown eyes kind of danced, and his smirk didn’t look smug, but just so Deacon. “You tried out the unicycle, didn’t you?”
I burst out a laugh. “The unicycle?”
“We spent the day riding bikes, and I’m in public.” I saw the background of the call was a Walgreens and there were rows of medicine behind him. “Appreciate my discreet behavior, babe.”
“I tried the unicycle.” I lowered my voice, even though I could see the earbuds tucked into his ears.
“And…?” He was walking through the medication aisle, and I saw him pause in front of a bunch of candy. “Will you be riding the unicycle regularly? Did it get you to where you needed to go?”
An older couple paused behind him. They looked to be in their eighties or nineties and the man wore a golf hat and I didn’t have time to warn Deacon of his approach before he tapped my big, strapping conversation partner on the shoulder. “Young man, did you say unicycle?”
“I did.” Deacon held the phone away, and I could see them both clearly. “My friend is learning to ride one.” He winked at the screen and pointed in the man’s direction at me.
“I rode unicycles as a young man.” He looked wistful, and his wife took his forearm in hers.
“Oh, he did. All the time. Sometimes I had to call down the street for him to get off that dang unicycle and come in for dinner!” She had a kind laugh, and the couple shared a look with each other before turning back to Deacon, who was doing an admirable job hiding his laughter.
“You know, I fear that’s what’s going to happen to her,” he said, nodding at his phone. “Any advice?”
My entire body was red with embarrassment, but Deacon’s easy laugh made it feel comfortable, even though I couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Well,” she said, thoughtfully. “Once, I just told him he’d only get his unicycle back if he’d done all his chores around the house.” She patted his arm.
“Took away my toy until I did as she said,” her husband said, squeezing her arm.
“Now that sounds like a good idea.” He winked again at the phone, and a new flush that had nothing to do with embarrassment moved through my body.
“You never hear anyone talking about unicycles,” the man said. “Thank you for that memory, young man.” He patted Deacon’s shoulder again, and the two started down the aisle.
“And thanks for the suggestion,” Deacon replied. When he looked into the phone, he opened his mouth like he was letting out a silent laugh but paused and looked over his shoulder.
“Did they say something else?”
Deacon looked over his shoulder again before turning back to me. “Nah, just goodbye.” He smiled to himself, this quick, tiny grin, then said, “So it was an enjoyable experience?”
“Unicyling?” I nodded. “Very.”
His nostrils flared. “I’m really glad you got it,” he added, and I saw him move along the aisle. His voice pitched low, and his smirk returned. “Will I have to take it away until you’re a good girl?”
I’d never played games like this, and hearing him say that made my skin prickle with enjoyable goose bumps. “Maybe.” I didn’t know what to say, but I liked him being in the room with me when I felt like this, even if it was just his voice. “It was really intense.”
He swallowed and paused as he paid for his purchases at a self-checkout kiosk. “Intense how?” His voice was like gravel moving over my body, like tiny pebbles rolling over my skin as he spoke.
“Um,” I said, pressing a hand to my belly, where I still felt butterflies. “I’ve never had that reaction. I was shaking and could feel the waves for so long. I felt completely out of control in the best way.”
Deacon walked outside, and the light from a streetlamp cast shadows over his face. “How did it feel to be out of control?” His car dinged as he climbed inside, and I noticed the wince on his face as he did, but he kept going with his line of questioning. “To be wild.”
I grinned. “I don’t think I was wild…I was in my bedroom alone but felt really good.” I pressed a hand to my lips. “It’s so weird to tell you this.”
“Not so weird,” he said, and I heard the engine roar to life. “We have an agreement.”
“I imagined…”
“Tell me what you imagined, Low.” He wasn’t moving, and I pictured him there in his big truck, focused on the screen in that parking lot. I wondered if my talking about this turned him on.
“I imagined feeling that out of control but someone else being here, like being next to someone or having them being the one who was making me lose control.” Really, I’d imagined him making me lose control, him making me feel that good, but more than anything, being able to cling to him after.
But that was too big, too beyond our agreement, so I wasn’t going to go there.
“You’ve never come that hard with another person?”
I shook my head. “I mean, it felt good. And I’ve finished, but not like…” I squeezed my thighs together to remind my body of the sensation. “Not like this.”
“Low, you had oral on your list.”
I flushed but shook my head. “I asked once and it didn’t go well so I never asked again.”
“But you wanted it?” The humor was gone from Deacon’s voice, and it sounded like a growl, like he was personally affronted at a lack of oral sex.
I nodded. “That’s why I tried this kind of toy. It…”
“You bought a toy that feels like someone sucking on your clit,” he said, and he seemed to put the truck in gear. “And you want someone to do that for you?”
I nodded and eyed the toy, still sitting on my nightstand. “Guess I just imagined someone else being with me is all I meant to say. It was good, though. It was great. I didn’t mean I want you to. I know you want to take things slow, and I monopolized your whole day already.”
“Low.” He spoke as he drove, and I could only see the side of his head.
“What?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”