7. Hallie
HALLIE
The front door clicks shut, and my mother's voice cuts through the haze of pleasure like a blade.
"I'm home."
My body locks up, every muscle tensing.
"Hey," I manage, my voice too bright, too strained. "You're back early."
My mother's heels click against the hardwood as she steps further into the room. She can only see my face past the back of the couch, but if she were to come closer, she would see my disheveled clothes. My tank top is bunched up around my ribs, my bra unhooked, my tits exposed.
God, please don't come closer.
"Yeah, the meeting got canceled," she says, her tone light, oblivious.
"I—"
Heath suddenly starts moving again. His tongue drags through my folds, slow and deliberate, his fingers still buried inside me. I bite down on my lip hard enough to taste copper, my nails digging into the sofa cushions.
"I… see," I finally finish.
My mother's shadow stretches across the floor as she leans against the doorway. "You look cozy. What've you been up to?"
"Just... watching TV," I lie, my voice cracking on the last word.
Heath's tongue flicks my clit, and I jerk, my thighs clamping around his head before he forces them apart again. His fingers curl inside me, slow and deliberate, like he's savoring every twitch of my walls.
"Hmm." She tilts her head. "You feeling okay? You sound weird."
"Fine," I gasp, my fingers twisting in the blanket. "Just... tired."
His teeth graze my inner thigh, and I bite my lip to stifle a whimper. My hips lift involuntarily, chasing the heat of his mouth.
"Well, don't fall asleep too early," she says, pushing off the doorframe. "I might need help with dinner later."
"Sure," I choke out, my breath hitching as his tongue drags lower, teasing my entrance.
"I'm glad I came home and—" Her words cut off as her phone rings. She sighs, digging it out of her purse. "Hold on, let me just…"
Heath's tongue flicks over my clit, and I jerk, my hips lifting off the couch. My breath hitches, my fingers twisting in the fabric beneath me. I force a laugh, high and unnatural. "Go ahead."
She nods, already distracted, her thumb swiping across the screen.
"Hey, why did you call?" She turns away, stepping toward the kitchen, her voice dropping into that fake-happy tone she uses when she's talking to some guy she's trying to impress.
"No, baby, I'm still at home. I'll be there soon. After dinner, maybe."
The second she's out of sight, Heath's mouth seals over my cunt, his tongue thrusting inside me. I gasp, my back arching, my thighs clamping around his head. He groans against me, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my core.
"Fuck," I whisper, my voice breaking. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, my hips rocking against his face. He doesn't let up, his tongue working me over, his fingers curling inside me, hitting that spot that makes my vision blur.
My mother's voice fades into the background, her heels clicking against the tile as she moves further away. I can hear her laughing, that fake, breathy sound she makes when she's talking to a man she likes.
My stomach twists, but the pleasure is too intense, too consuming. I can't focus on anything but the way Heath's tongue is fucking me, the way his fingers are stretching me, the way my body is tightening, coiling, ready to snap.
"Oh god," I moan, my voice too loud, too desperate.
I bite down on my lip again, my eyes squeezing shut.
Heath's free hand slides up my body, his fingers pinching my nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.
A pearl of milk beads at the tip, and he groans, his tongue swirling around my clit before he latches on, sucking hard.
The pleasure is too much. I can't hold back. My body convulses, my back arching off the couch as I come, my cunt clenching around his fingers, my milk spraying from my nipple as he drinks from me. I bite down on my hand, muffling my cry, my body trembling, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
My mother's voice is still in the background, her laugh sharp and fake. "Yeah, baby, I'll see you later."
Heath doesn't stop. His tongue keeps working me, his fingers still inside me, drawing out my orgasm until I'm a trembling, whimpering mess. My thighs shake, my body sensitive, every touch sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
I collapse back against the couch, my body boneless, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Heath pulls back, his lips glistening with my arousal, his fingers sliding free from my cunt. He licks them clean, his eyes locked on mine, his gaze dark and hungry.
"You were so wet," he whispers, his voice rough. "Does the thought of getting caught turn you on?"
I whimper, my body still trembling, my cunt aching.
My fingers tremble as I tug my tank top back into place, the fabric clinging to my damp skin.
Heath's hands are suddenly there, smoothing the wrinkles, adjusting the straps of my bra while I clasp it.
His touch lingers, his thumbs brushing over my nipples one last time, sending a shudder through me.
I swallow hard, my throat dry, my body still humming from his mouth. He stands, his towering frame blocking the light for a second before he turns away, his footsteps heavy as he heads for the stairs.
The moment he's out of sight, my mother reappears, her perfume cutting through his scent still clinging to the air.
"So, what's for dinner?" she asks, her voice bright, oblivious.
The bathroom door creaks as I step out, steam curling around my ankles like a living thing.
My skin is still flushed from the heat, my hair damp and heavy against my shoulders.
I pull my robe tighter, the terrycloth rough against my oversensitive nipples.
They ache, swollen and tender, the memory of Heath's mouth still fresh.
I told my mother I would help with dinner after taking a bath.
After getting ready, I step into the hallway, heading downstairs.
My mother's in the kitchen, humming as she rummages through the fridge. The light spills across the floor, warm and golden, and for a second, she looks like she used to… before the revolving door of men, before the lies. Just my mom, making dinner, asking about my day.
But then she straightens, a bottle of wine in hand, and the illusion shatters. Her dress is too tight, her makeup too heavy. She's not staying in.
I clear my throat.
She jumps, her hand flying to her chest. "Jesus, Hallie. You scared me."
"Sorry." I lean against the doorframe, my shoulder brushing the wood. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you."
Her eyes flick over me. "You look tired," she says, her voice softening. "Everything okay?"
I almost laugh. Everything is not okay. My body is still humming from Heath's touch, my cunt still slick, my tits still leaking if I think about it too hard. And she's asking if I'm okay?
But the words die on my tongue.
Because if I tell her the truth, if I ask her why she's doing this, why she's throwing away what she has with Heath… I will lose what I have with him.
And I can't let that happen.
I shrug, forcing my voice to stay light. "Just tired. I did a lot of things today."
She nods, like she understands. "Well, make sure to rest." She grabs her purse from the counter, the clasp snapping shut with finality. "I'll be back tomorrow."
I blink, my fingers tightening around the hem of my shirt. "What about dinner?"
Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Change of plans, sweetheart. I've got to be there earlier than I thought." She checks her watch, the gold band glinting under the kitchen lights. "How about you ask Heath to get food delivered?"
My throat goes dry. I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth. "You said we'll make dinner?"
Her sigh is heavy, like I'm the one being unreasonable. "Hallie, I have plans." She steps closer, her perfume wrapping around me. "You're a big girl. You'll be fine."
I want to scream. I want to grab her wrist and make her look at me. Really look at me.
But the words stick in my throat.
It's not like this is anything new.
So instead, I watch as she walks out, her heels clicking against the tile, the front door swinging shut behind her.
The house is quiet again.
I exhale, my shoulders sagging. The weight of it all presses down on me, her lies, my secrets, the way Heath's touch lingers on my skin like a brand.
I walk to the living room and sink onto the couch, pulling a throw blanket over my legs. The TV flickers to life, some mindless reality show filling the silence.