Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
SCARLETT
Two months later
I stand at the kitchen counter in a thin white camisole and black thong, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.
My mind drifts as I stare out the window, thinking about how different everything feels now.
Two months ago I came here to help Rook recover after he got shot.
I told myself it was temporary. But somewhere along the way, I stopped leaving.
My things slowly made their way into his space, and neither of us ever really talked about it.
He just kept making room for me until one day I realized I was living here.
The coffee maker beeps. I pour myself a cup and lean back against the counter, taking a slow sip. The apartment is quiet until I hear the bedroom door open down the hall.
A few seconds later, Rook steps up behind me. He doesn’t say anything at first. He just presses his body against my back and cages me in with his arms on either side of the counter. His mouth finds my neck, warm and slow, kissing down the side of my throat before moving to my shoulder.
I tilt my head, giving him better access.
His hands slide down to my hips, gripping me as he kisses lower, along my shoulder blade, then down my spine through the thin fabric of my camisole.
When he reaches the small of my back, he gently turns me around so I’m facing him.
Then sinks to his knees in front of me, hooking his fingers into my thong, and slowly pulls it down my legs. I step out of it without a word.
He lifts one of my legs and hooks it over his shoulder, opening me up completely. My back presses against the counter as he looks up at me with dark, hungry eyes. “Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “Already so wet for me.”
Before I can respond, he leans in and drags his tongue slowly through my folds. A moan slips out of me as my head tips back.
Rook groans against my pussy like he’s savoring it. He pulls back just enough to speak, his lips brushing against me. “Goddamn, baby… you taste so fucking sweet,” he says, voice thick. “So soft and warm on my tongue.”
He dives back in, licking me with long, deliberate strokes before sucking gently on my clit. My hand flies down to grip his hair as my legs start to shake.
He pulls back again, breathing against me. “So fucking soft,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. “This pretty little pussy gets so wet for me. You like when I eat you like this, don’t you?”
I nod quickly, barely able to speak. “Yes…”
Rook rewards me by licking me again, slower this time, before pushing his tongue inside me.
He fucks me with it for a few seconds, then pulls back to look up at me again.
“Tastes even better than I remember,” he growls softly.
“Could stay down here all morning. Just keep licking this sweet pussy until you come all over my tongue.”
A broken moan escapes me. His words, combined with the way he’s touching me, are making my head spin. He slides two thick fingers inside me while his tongue circles my clit again. The combination has my thighs trembling around his head.
“That’s it,” he rasps between licks. “Be a good girl and come for me. Let me taste how sweet you are when you fall apart.”
His fingers curl just right as he sucks on my clit, and I shatter. My leg tightens over his shoulder as I come hard, crying out his name while my body shakes against the counter.
Rook doesn’t stop right away. He keeps licking me slowly through it, like he really can’t get enough, murmuring against me between strokes.
“So fucking good, baby… taste so sweet when you come for me.”
Only when I’m whimpering and gently pushing at his head does he finally ease off. He presses one last soft kiss to my clit, then slowly lowers my leg and stands up.
He cages me against the counter again, his mouth finding mine. I can taste myself on his tongue as he kisses me deep and slow.
When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine, breathing hard.
“Could eat that sweet pussy every morning and never get tired of it,” he says quietly, voice still rough.
I’m still catching my breath, my legs shaky. I slide my arms around his neck and pull him closer.
“You’re gonna make me late for work,” I whisper.
Rook smirks against my lips.
“Worth it.”
I slide into the booth across from Tessa, Erica, and Hadley.
The River House is busy but not packed, the big windows overlooking the water giving the place a bright, easy vibe.
Tessa already has a pitcher of something pink and dangerous sitting in the middle of the table, along with a basket of fries.
“Finally,” Tessa says the second I sit down. “We were about to send a search party. Thought maybe Rook tied you to the bed and wouldn’t let you leave.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. “He tried. I escaped.”
Erica smirks and pours me a drink. “How’s he doing? For real.”
“He’s good,” I say, taking the glass. “Getting stronger every day. Still gets tired faster than he used to, but the doctor says that’s normal. He’s been back at the clubhouse a couple times already, just to check in.”
Hadley leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. “And how are you doing? You were a wreck when everything happened.”
I shrug, but it’s not as heavy as it used to be. “I’m okay now. Better. It was rough for a while, but… we’re good.”
Tessa raises an eyebrow, a wicked little smile tugging at her mouth. “Speaking of good… have you two finally fucked yet?”
I nearly choke on my drink.
Erica laughs. “Oh my God, look at her face. That’s a no.”
Hadley’s eyes go wide. “Wait, seriously? It’s been two months.”
I feel my face heat up. “We’ve done… other stuff.”
Tessa leans back, looking way too amused. “Other stuff. Right. So he’s gone down on you, you’ve probably sucked his dick, maybe some hand stuff… but no actual dick-in-pussy action?”
“Jesus, Tessa,” I mutter, but I’m laughing.
She just shrugs. “What? We’re all adults here. Answer the question.”
I sigh and swirl the drink in my glass. “No. We haven’t had sex yet. Not since before he got shot.”
The table goes quiet for half a second.
“Why not?” Erica asks, softer this time.
I hesitate, then admit the truth. “I was scared of hurting him. For the first few weeks he was still in a lot of pain, and even after that… I don’t know.
I kept thinking what if I did something that made it worse?
What if I pushed too hard or moved the wrong way?
” I shrug. “So we’ve just been taking it slow. Doing other things. It’s been fine.”
Hadley gives me a sympathetic look, but Tessa is already shaking her head like I just said something ridiculous.
“Scarlett,” she says, dead serious. “You need to give it up.”
I blink. “What?”
“You need to fuck that man,” Erica adds, nodding. “Like, yesterday.”
Hadley tries to hide her smile behind her glass but fails. “They’re not wrong. He’s healed. He’s been cleared by the doctor. And from what I’ve heard, Rook’s not exactly the type to sit around waiting forever.”
Tessa points at me with her straw. “Exactly. That man took a bullet for you. He almost died. And now he’s walking around with blue balls while you’re over here being all careful and sweet. Babe, he’s probably losing his mind.”
I bite my lip, suddenly feeling a little guilty. Rook hasn’t pressured me at all. If anything, he’s been patient. But I’ve seen the way he looks at me sometimes — especially in the mornings when I’m walking around in just his shirt. Like he’s holding himself back.
“I just don’t want to hurt him,” I say again, quieter this time.
Erica reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Honey, if you riding his dick is what finally puts him in the ground, he’ll die a very happy man.”
Tessa raises her glass. “Facts.”
Hadley laughs and lifts hers too. “To Scarlett finally getting dicked down properly.”
“Oh my God,” I groan, but I’m laughing as I clink my glass against theirs anyway.
Tessa grins at me over the rim of her drink. “Seriously though. Go home tonight and fuck your man. He’s earned it, and so have you.”
I take a long sip of my drink, their words settling somewhere in my chest. Maybe they’re right, it’s time I stop being so careful.
I stand in front of the mirror in our bedroom, heart racing as I take in my reflection.
The black lace lingerie hugs my body perfectly — a sheer bra that barely covers my nipples and a tiny matching thong.
I spent the last twenty minutes carefully decorating myself with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, caramel, and bright red cherries.
Swirls of cream sit on top of my breasts, chocolate and caramel drip down my stomach and thighs, and I placed a cherry right in the center of each swirl.
I look ridiculous.
And really fucking hot.
My phone sits on the nightstand. I pick it up, open my messages with Rook, and type:
Me: It’s time for dessert. I’m in the bedroom.
I hit send before I can overthink it, then climb onto the bed and lean back against the pillows, trying to look casual even though my stomach is doing flips.
A minute later, I hear his phone buzz from the living room. And a few seconds after that, I hear the sound of the TV turning off, followed by the low creak of the couch as he stands up. My heart beats faster with every step I hear coming down the hallway.
The bedroom door opens and Rook steps inside wearing nothing but a pair of black basketball shorts slung low on his hips. His chest is bare, the scar from the bullet still pink against his skin. His hair is messy, and the second his eyes land on me, he stops dead in the doorway.
He doesn’t say anything at first. His gaze drags slowly down my body, the black lace, the whipped cream, the chocolate and caramel glistening on my skin, the cherries sitting like little invitations. His jaw tightens. I watch his hands flex at his sides like he’s trying to stay in control.
“Jesus fuck,” he finally mutters, voice already rough.