Chapter 16
SHE AWOKE TO HIS LIPS ON the back of her neck.
She’d gotten up to use the washroom a couple of times during the night—the perils of having a hot man make you peppermint tea before bed.
Every time she’d crawled back under the covers, Ryan had reached through the fog of sleep to pull her close to him again, as though his body knew it needed her on some instinctive, subconscious level.
Most recently, when she’d come back to bed around six, he’d rolled onto his side and made her his little spoon.
Evidently, neither of them had moved as dawn became morning and sunlight started to peek through the slats of the blinds.
“Mmmmm.” Simone hadn’t woken up enough to form coherent words, but she wanted to let him know that his mouth back there felt divine, and actually, if he could keep on doing that for the rest of time, she’d really appreciate it.
Ryan exhaled with his own sigh of pleasure, then returned his lips to her neck. Every kiss was featherlight but made her core ache with pleasure, and she pressed herself into the curve of his body, begging for more.
The hard ridge pressing back told her exactly what Ryan wanted. It would have been easy for Simone to reach back and wrap her hand around his cock. Too easy. She’d learned in Vancouver that Ryan liked to work for his reward, and she rather enjoyed telling him just what he had to do to get it.
This morning, she would show him. She rolled over and put a hand on the solid mass of his shoulder, guiding him onto his back.
They locked eyes at her touch—a wordless exchange that made electricity zip down her spine.
How many times in the past few weeks had she fantasized about Ryan being at her mercy again?
She pushed the quilt below their waists, revealing the bulge in Ryan’s boxers that was begging to be free. Not yet. She wriggled out of her own shorts, Ryan watching reverently as she bared herself in the morning light. She slowly pulled her T-shirt off next.
He let out a sigh as she straddled him—a breathy tangle of pleasure and want.
His cock was still restrained by the fabric of his boxers, and when she lowered her hips to graze his bulge, his sigh deepened to a full-body groan.
She moved herself along his firm ridge again, teasing him more.
She slowly increased the pressure, rubbing her clit against his erection, using him for her pleasure, the way she knew he wanted to be used.
When her clit couldn’t take the teasing anymore, she knew what she had to do next. She slowly crawled forward. Grabbing the wooden headboard, she raised her upper body and knelt over his mouth. He wet his lips, hungry for her, and stared up from between her thighs as if to say, Please.
She was already close to coming from the look on his face alone.
His vulnerability unleashed a power between her legs she’d never known was there.
She gingerly lowered herself onto his eager mouth, and gasped with pleasure as his hot tongue slipped inside her.
Oh… my… God. Pleasure rolling through her, she realized just how much of a shame it would have been to go the rest of her life without experiencing Ryan’s oral skills again. Talk about depriving herself.
She was hesitant to put her full weight on him at first, until he asked her for it, taking hold of her ass and pulling her all the way down, so he could press his tongue deeper inside her when he wanted to—when he wasn’t doing otherworldly things to her clit…
When she knew she was close to the edge, she leaned back, reaching for his waistband.
She caught it and gave it a tug. “Off,” she whispered.
In one swift motion, he let go of her ass, pulled off his boxers, and returned his hands to where they’d just been—all without stopping his tongue.
“You’re so good,” she said, stroking his hair.
Now, at last, was the time. Ryan had earned it. Simone reached back and found his cock, so hard she could feel it throbbing when she gripped it in her palm. He moaned when she finally touched him there, moaned into her pussy, so she felt the vibrations in her core. Oh God, she was so close.
Some men might have stopped working the moment their cock was in her hand, but not Ryan. He ate her out with renewed fervor, every swirl of his tongue a thank-you for the work she was doing on him…
“I’m right there,” she whispered.
As she tipped over the edge, she felt the muscles tense in his shaft, and he moaned into her again. Ryan was coming, too—coming with his cock in her hand and his face in her pussy—and Simone was dizzy from the power and pleasure of it all.
She let Ryan shower first, given the mess he’d made of his chest. When it was Simone’s turn, Ryan popped downstairs to the bakery and returned with coffees and croissants.
Wait, no—this wasn’t just a regular coffee, Simone realized as she raised the cup to her lips and caught a whiff of the warm beverage within.
“Did you get us…”
Ryan’s lips quirked into that signature smirk that drove her wild. “Maple spice lattes? Yes, I did.”
She could have dragged him back to bed then and there.
Instead, they had their breakfast at the kitchen counter that doubled as a dining table, and then she dragged him back to bed.
Simone had always liked sex, but until Ryan, she hadn’t known just how spectacular it could be.
Ryan seemed to be his most satisfied when he was giving Simone pleasure—when he was proving himself useful to her.
And Simone would never get tired of being his proving ground.
She reveled in it, even, tapping into the dominant side she hadn’t even known she had until she hooked up with Ryan that first time in Vancouver.
For all the time they spent in bed, they still hadn’t had penetrative sex.
Simone was enjoying taking things slowly, making him work for his prize, and Ryan was evidently enjoying it, too.
She’d never been with a man who’d gotten hard from the mere taste of her.
Even Bree had been a bit of a pillow princess, if Simone was being honest.
They spent the whole weekend at Ryan’s, moving between the bedroom and the kitchen.
When they were hungry again, he improvised the perfect wintry stew using frozen ground turkey, a butternut squash, and an assortment of beans from the pantry.
Simone zipped down to the bakery to get some bread to go with it, and ended up returning with four different varieties of rolls and baguettes.
She fanned them out on the counter while Ryan ladled stew into bowls.
“They all looked so good,” she said. “I couldn’t choose. ”
“Who said you had to choose?”
Simone grinned.
They ate them all.
ON MARCH ELEVENTH, SIMONE TURNED THIRTY. It was a Wednesday, and her parents called her first thing in the morning, before work. Simone was in her bedroom, inspecting her outfit in the full-length mirror, when she answered the phone.
“Happy birthday, darling,” her mother simpered.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Thirty! Wow. I can’t believe it. I remember when you were just a baby. Simone, one second. Your father’s here, too. George—George, Simone’s on the phone. Yes, right now.”
“SIMONE?”
“You don’t need to yell, George. She’s on speakerphone.”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY,” George yelled. “THIRTY’S A BIG ONE.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Simone said, laughing.
Ever since Kathy’s low-key homophobic reaction to Simone’s coming-out post, her parents had been engaging in the time-honored WASP tradition of not discussing feelings whatsoever, and Simone had to say, she wasn’t mad about it.
This morning, they talked about the weather down in Florida, then the weather in Toronto, then how the overall climates of Florida and Toronto compared to each other.
Then they moved on to pickleball. Was it boring small talk?
Sure! But at least no one was sobbing over the “hard life” she was doomed to live as a queer woman.
After precisely ten minutes, Kathy started to wrap things up. “Well, darling, we’ll let you get back to your day! Are you off to work?”
“Yep.”
“Things at the… at the museum—they’re going well?”
Simone’s heart skipped a beat. “They are,” she said brightly, surprised her mother had ventured anywhere near the subject of Simone’s identity. “They’re going really well. We’re open to the public now, and there’s been a line down the block every day.”
“Wonderful! George, isn’t that great?”
“THAT’S GREAT, HON.”
“George, you’re going to give me a headache,” her mother hissed. “Anyway, darling, we just wanted to tell you…” Kathy paused, and Simone thought, Oh no, here it comes. “… we’re very proud of you,” her mother finished.
Wait, what? “Thanks, Mom,” Simone said softly. When she looked at herself in the mirror again, her eyes were glassy.
Today was going to be a good day.
She could feel it.
At work, Lucy surprised Simone by coming in early and decorating her desk with balloons, Seth brought in homemade black sesame Rice Krispies squares, and Nina got everyone in the office to sign a card with a picture of a skiing penguin on the front. Simone felt so lucky to have them all as friends.
Most of all, she felt lucky to have Ryan. At six o’clock on the dot, she closed her laptop, put on her coat, and hurried downstairs. Ryan was standing outside the Rainbow Museum in his Carhartt jacket, holding a bouquet of pink peonies. Her favorite.
“Hey, you. Happy bir—” He didn’t finish getting the words out before Simone threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her as close to his chest as their bulky outerwear would allow.
Simone thanked him for the beautiful peonies, and they walked arm in arm to a Greek restaurant that Ryan had picked out for them. The place was small and cozy, with white stucco walls and candlelit wooden tables painted blue. When they sat down, she caught Ryan studying the shape of the table legs.