Chapter 12
Twelve
Iris
One moment I’m under Oliver, writhing and panting and exploding with bliss, and the next moment, he’s pulled me on top of him.
Somewhere along the way, he lost his pants, and I can’t help myself. After licking my hand, I gently grab on to Oliver’s huge cock.
“Fuck, Iris,” he grits out.
“We keep ending up naked. Fucking tends to take place.”
He laughs a ragged laugh as I pump him, then he pushes my hand away.
I lie there, splayed out against his big chest, letting him manipulate my body because he seems to want to take charge.
His rigid length stands at attention as he positions me so I’m straddling his legs.
From this position, I watch him wrap himself up as I wait patiently.
When he’s ready, I stare at his cock, noticing it twitch under my gaze.
I climb into position, keeping one hand on Oliver’s chest, ready to feed him into me.
Carefully, I spread myself and take hold of his cock, guiding the tip in. I slowly slide down until my man is fully sheathed inside of me.
I rock against his groin, watching pleasure explode across his face.
I grip him tight until he lets out a curse. And I rock and thrust again.
Oliver’s hips come up off the bed, as if he could get any deeper.
I moan at the fullness, arching my back to take in more, more, more. I want to take all that he can give me.
My body rides him just like this, my muscles tormenting him.
His strong body bounces me to the point that I have to lean forward to hold on to something immovable, lest I fall off and ruin the moment.
Gripping the top of the headboard, my breasts bounce in his face with every thrust, and Oliver takes this opportunity to worship them with his mouth.
He licks over one nipple, making me impossibly wetter, compelling me to go faster on him.
Oliver’s jaw tightens and he groans, low in his chest. He’s close, I can feel it.
“Lean back and let me…there…there she is…”
Oh god. He’s talking about my clit like it’s a person as I lean back again, letting him find that spot where I ache the most.
As we move together, he rubs his thumb over it.
“Oh god. Oh god, Oliver!”
He lets out a string of low, growly curses and pumps once more, his entire body going stiff as my second release blows the doors off. My muscles grip down on him hard as my body milks everything out of him.
I collapse.
Oliver’s broad chest is sheened with salty sweat. He crams his fist into my hair and kisses me deeply and fervently.
“Mine,” he growls.
“I’m yours, Oliver.”
“I’m yours, Iris.”
We hold onto each other desperately until the shuddering stops, the panting ceases, and the fog clears.
“That was…”
“Yeah,” Oliver replies. “It was.”
His chin and lips are red from our sex, and from his excursion downstairs.
He’s so good at that, I’m going to beg for it again. Soon.
Turns out, I don’t have to beg. Oliver is eager to go again. And again.
We explore each other all night until we’re thoroughly spent.
The next morning, I wake up with more than a twinge between my legs. I can barely walk.
“You okay, Biscuit?”
“As the kids say, you might have literally blown my back out,” I joke.
Oliver sits up and kisses my shoulder. “Then go back to sleep and let me make you coffee.”
I lie there, completely content to do nothing but stare out the window. Across the street, Maddie and Ewan are leaving hand in hand to take in day three of the festival. I remember how Skylar demanded that I take time for myself today and do nothing.
Doing nothing with Oliver sounds like the perfect day.
I can’t help myself, so I grab the phone off my nightstand and glance at the screen. No messages. Perfect.
I resist the temptation to give Skylar an update. I kind of want to take today off—completely cut off from everyone and everything except Oliver. And if he’s busy, that’s fine, too. I can read a book. Plan my summer garden plot. Who knows what I can get up to when I have nothing to do?
Oliver returns with my coffee, wearing nothing but the boxer briefs he discarded last night.
“You look yummy, prancing around my bedroom half naked.”
He scoffs. “I don’t prance.”
“Okay, fine. You waltzed.”
“Come on.”
“What?” I ask with feign innocence. “What’s wrong with a waltz? Are you saying you don’t want to role-play Captain Von Trapp to my Maria?”
He does a spit take. “I don’t sing or play guitar, sorry.”
I sit up in bed. “We should watch Sound of Music.”
Dabbing at the coffee on his chest with a napkin, he says, “Don’t need to. Have it memorized.”
My jaw drops. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?” Oliver asks, lifting one eyebrow.
What’s on the tip of my tongue, I can’t say. Not yet. It’s too soon to say, “I knew I loved you.”
That would be insane. Even if it’s what I feel.
“I knew you liked musicals,” I say.
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
The coffee tastes wonderful. And I have a wonderful man in my room.
“What’s on the agenda for today? Sewing? Fittings?” Oliver asks.
I shake my head. “Today is my day off. Skylar has decided it.”
He laughs. “Somehow I don’t think it’s wise to go against her wishes.”
“See? You fit in perfectly with my crowd. As long as the gossip getting out of control sometimes doesn’t bother you too much.”
Oliver sets down his coffee cup on the nightstand and brushes a hand through my hair.
“I’d rather have ten people saying the wrong thing about me occasionally than a building full of people who would never know if I suddenly disappeared.
More importantly, I just want to be wherever you are, Iris. That’s it.”
I nod solemnly and finish my coffee. “So you think we can make this work?”
“Most definitely. It will because I’m crazy about you and I always go after what I want.”
“What happens when the crazy intense feeling wears off? What if one day you wake up and realize we were just meant to be a really awesome one-night stand?”
Oliver cups the back of my neck and draws me in for a kiss. “I know you worry about that kind of thing. But I’m not going to disappear on you. I wouldn’t want this to end. Period. But my words don’t mean much. So let’s do this thing together and let me prove it.”
“Okay. Let me make you some breakfast.”
“No, ma’am. I’m going to the Bluejay Cafe and picking up your favorites while you get a shower. And I plan on telling every Nosy Nelly in town that I’m your boyfriend. Just so everyone knows what’s going on and nobody can float any more rumors.”
I scrunch my nose. “Boyfriend. Ew. Boys have cooties.”
“Silly Biscuit.” He kisses my nose.
“I’m still getting used to that word. Boyfriend. Teasing is my coping mechanism.”
He kisses me one more time, and then he’s off to fetch breakfast.
I take a hot shower, luxuriating a little longer than I usually allow myself, then get cozy in my favorite light sweater and leggings.
I light a candle in the living room and pull out my knitting, sitting near the open window that looks out toward the street. When it warms up later, I’ll take my knitting and my book to the porch. This is going to be the best day I’ve had in a long time.
Sooner than expected, Oliver returns with breakfast. My stomach grumbles at the sound of the doorbell, and I sprint toward him without bothering to check the doorbell camera.
But what waits for me on the other side of the door is not Oliver, and most definitely not breakfast.
“Aunt Patty?”