Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
SCOTTIE
“You okay?” Wilder asks as he slips under the sheets and moves in right behind me, pulling my back into his chest.
“Perfect,” I answer. Because I am, I feel…perfect. I feel like I’m on top of the world. I feel like this black cloud that has been hovering over my head for God knows how long has been lifted and I can finally see the light.
I’ve never felt so beautiful before.
I’ve never felt so wanted.
I’ve never felt so needed.
And within one night, Wilder changed all that.
Sex with him is so incredibly different from anything I ever experienced with Matt. Not that I need to compare the two, because there’s a giant difference between the two men—and I mean giant—but it’s the way Wilder handled me that truly has set them apart.
“You know, you didn’t have to slip a shirt on. You could have slept naked,” he mumbles into my ear.
“I’m wearing your shirt.”
“I know. It’s the only reason why I’m not pitching a fit.”
I chuckle, the lightness in my chest a direct reflection of him. “I also didn’t want to assume anything by sleeping naked.”
“What do you mean by that?” he asks, his hand sliding under my shirt and right to my stomach.
My stomach hollows for a moment, because I’m so not used to this. I’m not used to this sort of attention. His touch. His constant need to hold me.
“Well, you know, we had sex?—”
“Wait, we did?” he asks jokingly.
Faintly exasperated, I answer, “Yes, Wilder.” He chuckles, and I continue, “But I wasn’t sure if that was just a one-time thing?—”
He laughs. “Scottie, I can tell you right now, that was not a one-time thing. Being inside you…that most certainly was not a one-time thing.” His thumb skims the underside of my breast. “There is no way I could handle only fucking you once.” His lips find the back of my neck.
Goose bumps break out over my skin as I shift my head to give him better access.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
He chuckles against my skin. “Positive, Pips.” His lips trail up my neck and to my cheek while his hand tugs me down to lie on my back. When our eyes meet, he smiles. “There you are.”
I sigh into his touch and can feel myself getting emotional over the way he treats me. And I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to be the one who cries after sex, but I can feel the sting of my tears starting to form because he’s so gentle. So sweet…
“Hey.” His brow creases as he notices my impending emotions. “What’s going on?”
I try to suck them down, hold them back, but it’s no use. I’ve been so fucking unhappy. The last few years of pain, disappointment, and hurt come tumbling down like a boulder, destroying my feeling of joy. Because it was never like this with Matt. He never sought my pleasure. He never delighted in me, in my taste, in my body. And I can see how that damaged me now that I’m not living in it anymore.
I stayed with someone who didn’t treat me the way I deserved for so long. I stayed faithful to a man who cherished his gaming console more than he cherished me. I don’t believe he had a physical affair, but in some sense, he had an emotional affair with the gamers he chose to spend time with rather than his wife. And I stayed. It’s breaking my heart all over again, simply because this stunning man holding me showed me what it was like to feel adored. Revered.
“Scottie, talk to me,” he says as my tears brim, ready to fall over.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sucking in a breath. “I’m just…my mind is reeling right now.”
“Good or bad?”
“It’s not about you.” I caress his cheek. “You were…you were perfect. You did nothing wrong. You actually did everything right, and I’m starting to realize that I spent so much time in a relationship with someone I shouldn’t have been with. I’m seeing that there is more out there in the world. There are people who’d appreciate me the way that I want to be appreciated.”
“Damn right, Scottie. You deserve so much more than that fuckhead was ever able to give you. And you can’t let him leave his mark on you. You can’t let him live rent-free inside your head, because he doesn’t deserve your time. You’re so much better than that. Better than him.”
“I’m really starting to realize that.” A tear falls down my cheek, and he swipes it away.
“Then why are you crying?”
“I think it’s a combination of a bunch of emotions. Sorrow for the woman who spent so much time with him. Joy for the woman who’s no longer with him. Excitement for the woman who just had the absolute best time of her life with a man between her legs.”
That draws a smirk from him. “Good answer. And for what it’s worth, easily the best experience I’ve ever had being between a woman’s legs.”
I’m about to tell him he doesn’t have to say that, but I stop myself, because I know I can trust him. I know he’s telling the truth. I know he wouldn’t say something just to say it. He’s not that man.
“Thank you.” I drag my finger over the scruff on his jaw. “Your piercings were unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.”
“You liked it?”
“More than I probably should.”
He chuckles. “Well, make sure you take full advantage of it. Hop on whenever you want.”
“Better watch what you say. I might just take you up on that.”
“Pips, if you don’t, I’m going to be pissed.”
“Why are you wearing a towel?” Wilder asks as he lies on the bed…freshly showered and naked.
“Because I just got out of the shower.”
He shakes his head. “Not an excuse. Drop the towel, Pips.”
“We have a therapy session to get to,” I say, even though I start walking toward him.
“Well aware of the schedule. That’s why you need to drop the towel.”
“Wilder—”
“Drop…the…towel.”
He scoots off the bed and then crooks his finger at me, beckoning me over.
I slowly walk toward him, only for him to tug on my hand, forcing the towel to drop, and bring me up against his chest, where he wraps his arm around me and then uses his other hand to grip my jaw and tilt my mouth up to his.
In seconds, he’s consuming me.
His lips owning mine.
His hands claiming me.
Scooping me up.
And plopping me on the bed only for him to hover over me, where his tongue dances across mine, over my jaw, down my neck, and to my breasts, where he plays, lapping at them.
Squeezing.
Nibbling.
“God,” I moan, shifting beneath him and widening my legs, giving him more room.
He leans in more, pressing his body to mine, letting me feel just how hard he’s grown in the matter of seconds.
“We have…we have to be quick,” I mutter right before his lips find mine again, silencing me. He parts my mouth and then dives his tongue against mine, tangling them together and lighting me up in a way that I’ve only felt with him.
He makes me feel desired.
Needed.
Like I’m important.
He brings his hand down between my legs and runs his finger over my slit, gliding right against my clit with ease.
“Fuck, you’re ready,” he whispers, and then to my surprise, he lifts up and then turns me around so I’m on my stomach. He tugs on my hips, bringing me to the edge of the bed and then says, “Stick your ass up for me, Pips.”
I tilt my ass up in the air, he parts my legs, and then he slips his cock into me with one solid thrust.
His piercings run along my inner walls until he bottoms out, making me cry in pleasure, because nothing has ever felt this good.
Nothing.
“Take my cock. Take all of it,” he says as his hand wraps around my wet hair and tugs my head back just slightly as he pumps into me.
My back arches, my nipples rub against the comforter, and with every thrust he makes, he bottoms out, filling me up to the point that I lose my breath.
“Fuck,” I whisper, just before his hand connects with my ass. “Oh God,” I yell, surprised and turned on at the same time.
From my response, he does it again.
And again.
And again, setting my skin on fire.
“Christ.” I tighten around him as he continues to thrust. “I’m…I’m close.”
“I can fucking…tell,” he grits out and then leans forward, letting go of my hair, but pressing down on my head and neck. “You make me so goddamn hard. Fuck,” he growls, pulsing harder.
“First…first thing I thought about…” I take a deep breath, his cock so stiff, so powerful that he steals my breath. “Was…how you…fuck me.”
“How do I fuck you?” he asks, his hand tightening around the back of my neck now.
“Like you own me.”
He grunts. “Because I fucking do.”
Then he lifts up and spanks me, the sensation of the snap against my skin and the warmth spreading through me making me squeeze around him.
So he does it again.
One more time.
And on the third, when I’m breathless, unable to stop the building of my orgasm, he grips my hips on both sides and thrusts in deeper, sending me into a tailspin of pleasure.
“Fuck, Wilder. Oh God…oh fuck.”
“Come on my cock, baby. Drench me.”
His words.
His grip.
His piercings rubbing against my G-spot.
It’s all too much and before I can stop myself, I’m calling out his name and falling over the edge.
He pounds into me a few more times, letting me run out my orgasm until he flips me over and pulls out of me.
Surprised because he hasn’t come yet, I’m about to protest until he swipes his fingers up my slit.
“Taste yourself,” he says before bringing his fingers to my mouth and sliding them past my lips.
Eyes wide, I suck on his fingers, watching him the entire time as he leans in closer and starts pumping his cock.
“See what I get to fucking taste? So goddamn good.”
Then he brings his hand back between my legs, swipes again, but this time, he sticks his fingers in his mouth, doing the tasting this time.
He licks, sucks, and then groans right before leaning forward and coming all over my chest.
Pump after pump, his warm semen coats me and I love every goddamn second of watching him come undone.
“Fuck,” he shouts as he finishes, and then takes a deep breath, his eyes finding mine.
They’re feral.
They’re almost unhinged.
And then with one finger, he scoops up some of his cum and then brings it to my lips.
I part and he watches me suck him dry.
The headiness in his expression, it speaks promises for so much more.
Clearing his throat, he says, “Stay there, I’ll clean you up.”
Then he leans forward, places a kiss on my lips, and takes off toward the bathroom.
In disbelief, I drape my arm over my eyes.
God…and that’s…that’s what sex is supposed to be.
Don’t look at him.
Do not look at him.
I glance over at Wilder, who’s leaning back on the couch, his arms draped casually across the back of it, one ankle crossed over his leg, looking like a freaking king. I can’t help the smile that passes over my lips, because oh my God, he’s so sexy.
This morning, after he played with me, it felt so raw, it felt so freaking good, and the only reason I’m not back in the cabin with him, exploring some more, is because we were beckoned to our therapy session.
When Wilder glances in my direction as well, he smirks and then pulls on that lip ring of his while his eyes scan down to my breasts, which are currently on display thanks to my low-cut shirt.
Sanders clears his throat, drawing both of our attention to where he’s sitting, perched up on his chair with a baseball glove and a baseball.
“Uh, care to tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” I say with a shake of my head. How I wish I was sitting so much closer to Wilder.
“Nothing’s going on?” Sanders asks. “Why don’t I believe that?”
“Because it’s not the truth,” Wilder says. “We fucked last night.”
Of course he’d just come out and say it. That’s Wilder. Never holds anything back. And even though I can feel a hint of embarrassment creep up my back, I kind of really like that about him.
“You did.” Sanders smiles widely. “Would you like to tell me how it went? I mean, from the way you two are smiling at each other, I’m going to assume it went really well.”
Wilder adjusts the bracelet I made for him that has my name on it, a bracelet that he’s kept on his wrist the entire time. “She’s fucking phenomenal in bed.” Then he looks at me and says, “No one compares. Pretty sure I blacked out last night…and this morning.”
Okay, now my cheeks are really flaming.
“And what about you?” Sanders asks as I fidget in my seat. “How do you feel?”
I glance over at Wilder, and not able to hold back my smile, I answer, “Amazing.”
“Well, this is exactly what I wanted to hear.” Sanders tosses the ball in the air and catches it. “I truly felt like you guys needed a moment to clear your minds, and you did that on your own. You found each other again, talked out some issues, and now you’ve started being intimate once more. Do you feel like you’re communicating well again?”
“For the most part,” Wilder says, eyeing me. “I think there was some holding out on communication last night, but once I pressed, she let me in.”
Sanders turns his attention to me. “Why were you holding out on talking to Wilder?”
“Um, because I just wasn’t sure if he was in the same frame of mind as I was,” I answer honestly. “And I didn’t want to feel embarrassed if he wasn’t.”
Sanders nods his head. “Holding information out of fear is the biggest form of miscommunication, but it’s also the most common. Every relationship, no matter how excellent you are at talking to your partner, experiences a form of miscommunication. It’s human nature. We become guarded, we don’t want to get hurt, we’re unsure of how the other person is going to respond, so we hold our cards close to our chest. We don’t tell the entire truth, which always hurts the relationship in the long run. It’s so incredibly common, so much so that Ellison and I suffer from the same thing at times. It’s one of the biggest issues among all my couples.”
“That makes sense,” Wilder says. “In a world where we live in our phones, it’s easy to hold out, to not practice simple conversational techniques.”
“Exactly. It’s why we confiscate phones while you’re here, because we want you hearing your partners. We want you seeing them. We want you at your rawest form.”
“Well, we were pretty raw last night.”
“Wilder,” I chastise.
“What?” he says on a laugh. “The condoms are fifteen dollars a pack. I wasn’t paying that much to cover up when you’re on birth control.”
The only reason I know he knows that is because he’s seen me take the pill at night before I climb into bed.
He then looks Sanders in the eyes and says, “Fifteen dollars? Really, man?”
Sanders doesn’t even balk at the number as he says, “Capitalism at its finest.”
“How do you sleep at night?” Wilder asks.
“With my wife next to me.”
Wilder nods. “Smooth answer.”
“Thank you.” Sanders sets the ball and glove down and then folds his hands together. “You have three more full days left here. I want you spending them together, working out any other issues that might be plaguing you, and coming up with a plan for how to deal with them in everyday life, because when you return to society, I don’t want you to fall back into your old habits. I want this marriage to work. To thrive. So spend the next few days coming up with that plan, and at the end of camp, I want to hear that plan. Understood?”
We both nod together.
“Good. Now, for today, I want you to go on a date. I want you to plan it together and then see it through. It could be whatever you want. We have a booklet in the main building, where you can decide what that will be. But I want it to be fun. Think you can handle that?”
“I think we can,” Wilder says.
“Perfect.” Sanders stands, so we do as well. “I look forward to seeing what you picked. And remember, we’re moving forward, not backward.”
“Right,” I say. “Forward.”
Wilder takes my hand, and together, we walk out of the cabin and down the path toward the main building.
“I can’t believe you told him we had sex last night and this morning,” I say.
“Why? He’s our therapist. He needs to know that.”
“He’s our pretend therapist.”
“Feels pretty real to me. Also, just be happy I didn’t write on everyone’s cabin window this morning that we fucked, okay? Because if I had it my way, I’d let everyone know. I would have called in a marching band, some skywriters, maybe even a magician who would make me magically appear out of a box only so I could shout into a megaphone that we fucked.”
“That seems a bit over the top.”
“You’re right. Maybe a touch too much. How about this? Should I just say it in greeting to everything I see? ‘Good morning. How are you? Scottie rocked my world last night with her pussy. How was your night?’”
“Oh my God, stop it,” I say, pushing at him, causing him to laugh.
“It’s true.”
I stay silent, shaking my head, because I really don’t know what to say to that.
After a few seconds of silence, he says, “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“Yes, I do.”
He stops and turns me toward him. “Look me in the eyes, and say you believe me.”
I sigh heavily and look him in the eyes. “I’m…I’m trying to believe you. And it doesn’t have anything to do with you but instead everything to do with me. Just one of those roadblocks I have to get over.”
“I understand,” he says softly while tilting my chin up with his finger. “But just know, I’d never lie about that. You…Scottie…created a monster, because after last night, I’m addicted. And I’m counting down the fucking minutes until I can have more of you.”
I move into him and place my hand on his chest. “Me too.”
“Here’s an idea. Why don’t we plan our date in the cabin? We can just?—”
“You cannot plan your date in the cabin,” Sanders says, scaring the both of us.
“Jesus,” I say, gripping my chest. “Where did you come from?”
He eyes the both of us. “You’re to pick a date from the date book in the main building. Understood?”
“But don’t you always say you want your couples to be intimate?”
“I do,” Sanders says. “But the point of these dates is to build that anticipation, to learn to flirt with each other again. You can’t do that if you’re hiding out in your cabin, screwing each other.”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty good at flirting,” Wilder says while scratching his jaw. “I might not need to practice.”
Sanders points his finger at Wilder. “Stay out of your cabin until nighttime.”
“What if…we want to go in the lake and need our bathing suits?” Wilder asks, clearly trying to find a loophole.
Sanders thinks about it for a second and then says, “I’ll allow it. Just for swimsuits. I want you building that anticipation.”
“Trust me, with my Pips wearing that shirt today, the anticipation is already there.”
My Pips.
Did he really just say “my Pips”?
I think he did.
And why do I love it so much?
Maybe because my ex never claimed me the way Wilder so easily does.
“Come on.” Wilder loops his arm over me. “We have a day to plan.”
“Babe, we have to do the tandem bike.”
“Have you ever ridden a tandem bike?” I ask as I stare down at the pamphlet.
“No, but how hard can it be?”
“Uh, hard.”
I turn to the receptionist and ask, “Is it hard?”
“No. Once you get the hang of it, it’s quite enjoyable. You just need to communicate well.”
“Oh, we have excellent communication,” Wilder says.
There’s a snort from the corner, and that’s when I see Chad, sitting in a chair with a Diet Coke in hand, looking none too pleased.
“Do you have something you want to say?” Wilder asks.
“Nope, just enjoying my drink,” he answers. “Going to rate it in my Soda Tracker when I’m done. Camp Haven, flat Cokes, lukewarm at best.”
Did he just say Soda Tracker?
From the way Wilder just stilled next to me, I’m going to say he did.
Does Chad know?
Is he going to expose us?
“Then I’d keep your derisive snorts to yourself,” Wilder says.
Not wanting to have this break into a fight, because Wilder really doesn’t like Chad—like actually hates him—I say, “You know, the tandem bike into town with the picnic and floats later sounds great.”
“Great. Since you already signed waivers when you came here, you can fit yourself with a helmet out back and then take the bike when you’re ready.”
“Okay, thanks,” I say and then tug on Wilder’s hand as he stares Chad down for a few more seconds. “Come on.”
We head out of the main building toward a green-and-white shed.
“That fuck is testing me,” Wilder mutters under his breath. “I’m a chill guy, but don’t fuck with me, and don’t fuck with the people in my life.”
I smooth my hand over his chest. “Just like you tell me not to let Matt live in my head, don’t let Chad live in your head.”
“Yeah, but he’s disrespecting you, and I don’t fucking like that. You deserve better.”
I smile and stand on my toes to press a kiss to his chin. “Thank you.”
That seems to ease some of the tension as he wraps his arms around me and brings me in close. “You’re welcome.”
“So should we tandem?”
“I think we shall,” he says and then kisses the tip of my nose.