Chapter 35 WESTLEY
“Should I bother looking for another place to live, or do you think you’ll be living at Maevyn’s by the time I’m ready to move out?” Callie sits at the kitchen bench, assessing me as she sips some tea.
“There’s no rush or necessity for you to look for another place,” I say, shovelling the last of my dinner into my mouth so I can get to Maevyn’s.
I just got back from classes with Phil, and it’s already after eight p.m. I need to get my fix of Maevyn before I can go to sleep, though she’s worth every minute of lost sleep.
“Oh, so you don’t think you guys are headed that way?” The question is dripping in sarcasm.
“I didn’t say that.” I walk over to the sink and rinse out my bowl. “I said there was no rush.”
“Okay. How many nights a week do you see her?” she asks, covering a yawn.
I pop the bowl onto the dish rack, then spin around to face my sister.
“Doesn’t mean I’ll be moving them in any time soon.
” I still remember how bad it hurt when things turned to shit with my ex.
We rushed into things, got too excited with the honeymoon phase, that I couldn’t even see the road bumps in time to pump the brakes. “I want to be sure before I do that.”
Callie nods, leaning back in her chair as she rests a hand over her growing belly. “I get it. Past mistakes make you question future actions.”
“Maevyn has a daughter. And I know she’s got a complicated past that she hasn’t let me all the way into yet. I… I care about them both enough to let this play out slowly.”
It’s not easy, though. With every passing day, my world is pulled tighter into their orbit. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to not have the sun rise and set to thoughts of Maevyn.
“You coming home later?” Callie groans as she steps off the chair and shuffles to the lounge room, dropping onto the sofa as she turns on the TV. Patch jumps up to join her a few seconds later.
“Probably not.” I shrug, making her chuckle.
“Your slow and steady approach could use some work. But, I’m happy for you.”
I smile. “You know where to find me if you need anything,” I call as I head to the front door.
“I’m going to bed in a second anyway. Turns out working and growing a baby is essentially two jobs.”
I pause with a hand on the front door knob. “You’re still okay working with Lee?”
Callie adjusts the pillow behind her. “Yeah, it’s good. Way more interesting than that tattoo shop. I kinda like seeing all the construction stuff, all the before and afters.”
“Good.” I nod. “I’m glad.”
“Me too. Now get out of here. Your desperation to see your girlfriend is grossing me out.”
I bark out a laugh. “Fine, goodnight!” I flick the lock and pull the door shut behind me.
I texted her when I was leaving classes earlier, but she hasn’t responded. I assume she’s gotten distracted by a TV show with Aurora; they love to find old shows to get lost in.
When I reach her door, I can hear a muffled beat coming through it. I have to knock a few times before the music pauses, then a puffing and sweat-soaked Maevyn stands on the other side of the door.
“Hey,” she huffs.
Blood drains from every vein and promptly shoots south as my eyes drink her in.
Tiny black shorts—that I’m not even sure could be called that—hug her hips and rise high on her thighs.
A white sports bra, held up by nothing more than sheer will, has her breasts pulled tight, heaving over the low neckline.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my tongue practically falling out of my mouth.
“I was working on a new routine.” She unlocks the security door and pushes it open, letting me inside.
“No TV tonight?” I walk around her, slowly raking my eyes up and down her curves.
“Aurora’s sleeping at Ever’s tonight. They have an early morning start for an excursion.”
My hand reaches out, aching to touch her skin, when my mind catches up to her words. “Wait. Aurora’s not home?”
Maevyn snatches my hand with a smirk and leads me into the room off the front hallway.
“No,” she throws over her shoulder.
I don’t know how she can make sex, sin, and pure deviance ooze from a single syllable, but as she drags a chair from the corner of the room to behind the pole mounted in the centre, somehow, she does.
She pushes me into the chair, then slowly spins and walks over to the shelves against the wall. Sultry music fills the room, hypnotising my senses to the point where all I can see and smell is Maevyn.
Her hands glide up her body as she rolls her hips, and she saunters back over to me.
“Are you gonna dance for me, Trickster?”
She stands to the side of the pole and sweeps one arm up to the rhythm of the music until it grips the bar above her head. Her back arches, and her arse presses into the pole, one leg slightly bent as the other stretches out long and graceful.
I’m already hypnotised by the sight, and all she’s doing is standing there, wielding her body with the grace of a ballerina and the promise of a storm.
Her body ripples up against the pole, pushing away before she turns, spinning around the metal.
Her legs follow her body, elongating every curve, and then she’s upside down.
Feet in simple, black heels point to the ceiling, before they fold behind and she floats to the ground.
Knees bent and legs open wide enough to perfectly accommodate my head between them, she performs some fancy little footwork, then spins on the floor, bringing the pole back between her legs.
She grips it with one hand, then arches back, her toned thighs gripping the pole, bringing her body in to coil tightly around it, then she’s upside down, and flipping over herself.
I’ve never seen her dance. Didn’t know she could move her body in a way that banishes every unspoken thought. I watch as she weaves magic, dipping, rolling and curving around the pole. She’s in her element. I feel bad for being jealous of something that clearly brings her such peace.
I study the strong lines of Maevyn’s body as she twists and turns, contorting into a ritualistic dance of carnal worship, showing me an all-new side of her.
When I look at her face, she almost seems in a world of her own.
She’s not dancing for anyone else. She’s dancing for herself, relishing praise upon her body and connecting to some inner power only she can hear.
When those dark eyes find mine, it’s like a whip lashing out and holding me in a spell.
“What do you think?” She hooks her leg around the pole and spins until the other leg joins, crossing over one knee as if she’s sitting like some prim and proper lady, when in reality, she’s a goddamn queen. My queen.
“You’re so beautiful, it’s dangerous to a man’s health,” I murmur. “I think my heart stopped and started ten times.”
She steps away from the pole, arms raised above her head as she spins on her tiptoes. Her perfect heart-shaped arse has my cock thickening in my basketball shorts. It takes me back to the first time I saw that kissmark tattoo, desperately wishing I could sink my teeth into it.
My eyes drag up her torso as she continues to approach me. Sweat glistens over her chest, and a fire burns in her gaze. She moves around my chair, hands raking over me until she’s standing at my side, and she kicks a leg up, placing a foot on my lap.
I feel my cock twitch as it hardens further, ready to sink into my new favourite place. Locking my hand around her ankle, I hold her still so my lips can trace over her knee and up her thigh.
“You’re not supposed to touch the dancers,” she says as though she’s begging me to do far more than touch her. She’s practically pleading for me to redefine her existence.
My mouth keeps travelling up her leg as my other hand finds the hem of her shorts, pushing it up over her arsecheek. The second my eyes find her tattoo, I sink my teeth into her skin.
She gasps. “Did you just bite me?”
“Just fulfilling a fantasy.”
“What other fantasies do you have about me?” she asks as she pulls her ankle from my grip, placing it back on the floor.
Never letting you go.
Her hands come to rest on my shoulders as she flings her other leg over me and sits down. My hands run over her thighs until they settle on her hips. “You’re not trying very hard to make sure I keep my hands to myself.”
Leaning in, she whispers in my ear, “You’re the exception to the rule.” The words reassure the possessive side of me, and my eyes fall closed in relief as her cocoa perfume wraps around me.
By some miracle, I still have enough coherent thoughts to cast back to the list she made with all her fantasies. Her chest pushes into me as I continue to kiss down her neck and shoulder. As much as I’d love to taste her, the move has my mind circling around one particular item.
My fingertips graze over her shoulder until I find the flimsy strap of her sports bra and tug letting her breasts spill free. I lean down, sucking an already hard nipple into my mouth. I palm her other breast through the fabric, thumb running back and forth over the barbell.
Maevyn’s head drops back, and her hips gently rock over my lap as I flick my tongue around her, up and down, before teasing her with my teeth.
Her hands fist into my hair, holding my head against her as I keep my movements slow, drawing out the sensations. I let my hands and mouth explore as if I have all the time in the world, and for her, I have everything.
She sighs as her hips roll against me, harder and more determined, until her pussy makes contact with my dick, separated only by the thin layers of our clothing.
One hand flies to her hip, halting the movements as I pop off her nipple and shake my head.
“What?” She frowns.
“I thought a nipple-only orgasm was on your list.”
Her mouth sputters open as she tries to form words. “But—but I’m so close.” She tries to rub her clit against me.