by London James
I gulp, feeling exposed and vulnerable. He is seeing every inch of me right now, more than anyone has ever seen.
“So pink. So wet. Is this all for me?” He slides those crystalline irises up my body and pulls his hand free, yanking a whimper from my throat.
“Rowan,” I whine from his absence.
“Look at me,” he demands.
I do what he wants, and he puts his fingers into his mouth, sucking the slick digits until every layer of juice is licked clean. His eyes roll to the back of his head, leaving nothing but the whites to be seen for a moment before slaying me again with his intense gaze. “So fucking sweet. I knew you would be. All strawberries and fruit. My favorite.”
And he dives in.
He latches his lips on to my bundle of nerves, never taking his eyes off mine. His tongue is a whip, lashing me over and over again, but it is far from punishment. He sucks my clit into his mouth, rolls it around, and nibbles. The soft touch of his teeth sends an edge of worry and danger, which only heightens the incredible emotions. It sends high-pitched noises out of my mouth and makes me reach toward the sky on my tippy-toes.
I can’t take it anymore.
He moves off my essence, flattening his tongue to lick all the way back to my perineum, only to lick to the front again.
Tightening my fingers through his thick locks, I start to thrust my hips, shoving the fat lips of my pussy further into his mouth. After a good tug on his hair, I remove my hands and slide them up my body to pluck my nipples. The extra sting is all I need.
“Rowan, yes,” I moan with puckered lips.
I keep assaulting the hardened beads on my breasts, tugging and pinching them through my dress to add to his pleasure. His hands go to my hips, pulling me closer, and then he shoves his tongue into the hole only he has been in, fucking me over and over again with his tongue.
“Yes, oh god, I’m going to come. I’m going… Rowan, I—” but he never lets up. I toss my head back one final time, latching onto the thick tendrils of his hair, and scream.
I scream until my throat hurts.
My orgasm trembles the muscles in my pussy, hell, my entire body, and I squirt into his mouth. It’s embarrassing. I didn’t know I did that, but he laps it up, thirsty for my come. My body is a quivering mess when he pulls away.
His mouth shines, not just from my juice, but with a happy smile. He stands, bringing his lips closer to mine. I’m drunk off my orgasm. My eyes are glazed. I’m high off the feelings he gives me.
“Have you ever tasted yourself, Everly?”
I shake my head.
He grabs the back of my head with his hand and yanks me forward. His drenched lips slant onto mine. We slip together in a wet, honey-flavored kiss. I moan from the wild, forbidden taste he gives me. I like it. If that’s what I taste like, I can see why men like to do it so much.
I don’t bother unbuttoning his shirt. I want him now. I need him now. His zipper echoes in the living room. The flames still flicker in the fireplace, creating a soft glow and a romantic mood, but to hell with romance. I want something raw and primal.
So, I open up his pants and pull him out. Once his soft cock is in my hand, I stroke it.
He arches into my touch, still clothed, still proper, but the nine-inch shaft in my palm is far from proper and refined. I’ve never seen anyone else’s cock before, but there is no way they are as perfect as Rowan’s. The tip is red while the rest of his shaft is a tan. The vein bulges on the side, filling his thick muscle to the hard, long rod that it is now.
“I love your hands on me,” he says.
“I love my hands on you.”
When he tilts his head back down, he wraps his arms around me and backs me up against the couch. My knees bend, falling to my doom.
Or salvation.
It depends on how someone looks at it.
He wraps my legs around his waist and rotates until his back is against the cushions. He holds the curve of my lower back and situates me on top of his cock until it is positioned at my entrance.
Rowan grunts and lowers me on his thick spear. My jaw drops from the intrusion, but pleasure shoots through me, and I never want it to stop. Both of us moan when he can’t go any further and is seated fully.
He lays his forehead against my chest, and hot puffs of air hit my skin. “You feel so good.” The words struggle from his tongue.
And I’m barely holding on.
I lift myself up and back down, needing friction. I need more. I wrap my arms around his neck and rock back and forth. Sweat decorates his forehead when he looks at me. “Use me,” he grunts, not moving to meet my thrusts. “Fuck me, Everly.”
My nails dig into the skin on his shoulders, and I latch myself onto his body and start to gyrate my hips until the crown of his cock is brushing against that special spot inside of me. “Rowan,” I cry, gaining speed and friction as I fuck him.
For the first time.
Something about this position feels better than all the other positions. My body is constantly shaking from my clit dragging across his lower abdomen. My orgasm approaches quick, but I want to hold it back.
“What do you do to me?” he whispers, dragging his lips across my neck.
I know exactly what he means because I have no idea. When I’m with him, everything falls away. His soul tangles with mine. It has ever since the day we met. Was it only a matter of time before we were giving our bodies over to one another? Because, thinking about it, it makes sense.
I wrap my arms tighter around him and lay my head on his shoulder, whimpering into his ear every time his thick cock drags across that spot that makes me feel like I’m about to explode.
“Look at me,” he whispers.
I lean back, trying to lift my lids to do what he wants me to.
“I want to see you come as I come in you.” He starts to flex his hips, grinding his shaft deep inside me.
Glancing down, I watch him slide in and out of me. It takes my breath away. How does he fit? The wet sounds of us joining together are erotic all on their own. The dark material of his jeans are wet, from me, from him turning me on so damn much. He gets me so wet.
“You going to come for me? I’m going to fill you up, Everly. You want that? You want my come?”
“Yes! I want it all,” I shout, tossing my head back with a fevered passion as an orgasm rips through me, and I gush all over his cock.
His lips twist, his eyebrows pinch, and Rowan looks at me with desperation right before he shuts his eyes and grunts his release, thrusting his hips with every rope of come that leaves his slit. He slows, sliding in and out, slow and passionate, and brings my lips to his mouth, kissing me like he has always loved me.
What I’d give to have his love again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rowan
I wake up to the sound of my cell phone ringing. The sun is barely peeking over the horizon, but my eyes still squint from the light being so damn intrusive. My heart thumps against my chest as I remember what happened last night. I turn to the right and see a smooth, creamy back turned to me. Honey brown hair spills over the white pillowcase, and my worried heart starts to slow.
She didn’t leave.
I don’t really know what we are, but we are more than what we were when this trip started. I just have no idea what to do with it.
“Mmm, answer your phone,” she waves her hand in the air.
“Still a grumpy morning person, I see.”
“You haven’t seen anything. Morning goblin has only gotten worse over the years,” she slurs with sleep.
I bend over and kiss her shoulder, out of habit, out of want, but nothing in me screams at me to stop. And it scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to get too comfortable. Everly has proven she is a runner. And the last thing I want is to get left in her dust again.
The phone rings again. She throws a pillow over her head and groans. It makes me chuckle. I toss the thick, white comforter—that all hotels seem to have—and rol
l out of bed. My cock lays against my inner thigh, and the air hits the flesh, making me shiver. I just want to get back into the warmth of the bed. Where the beautiful, naked woman is.
The phone stops ringing, but a second later starts up again. It must be Gray with an emergency, but when I flip it over to stare at the screen, it is a Colorado number. My stomach plummets, and my throat starts to close with panic. There is only one reason this number would call me.
“Hello?” I answer. The tone of my voice has Everly flipping over in the bed. She removes the pillow from her face, and the corners of her eyes slant downward with her frown.
“Mr. Michaels? This is Officer Josh Kendall, from the other night. I have some news for you.” He sighs, “It isn’t good.”
I rub my hand over my mouth when tears burn the whites of my eyes. “Just tell me.”
“We found your parents.”
“Are they okay?” I ask with a little hope, and the worry leaves Everly’s face as she crawls to the bottom of the bed.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Michaels. They didn’t make it. We found them in a cave that hasn’t been used in decades. Your mother had a broken leg. We think your father helped her to the cave, and when the storm hit, they couldn’t go anywhere. He laid with her to keep her warm, but they froze to death. I’m sorry.”
“Right. Sure. Okay.” I don’t know what else to say. I guess we have funerals to plan now. We have to get home and get everything in order.
“Because the storm has hit all flights are cancelled, and don’t be shocked if you lose power.”
“What?” I ask as his voice breaks up, but when he repeats himself, he says flights are cancelled. The call drops, and a dial tone replaces it. I pull the phone away and stare at the screen.
“What is it?” Everly asks.
Her voice brings me back to reality. I lift my eyes to see her covering her body with the sheet. She feels something is wrong. I clear my throat to prepare to tell her the news, but I don’t know how. I don’t know how to ruin her world—again. Our parents, both of our parents, mothers and fathers—gone.
It’s just us.
“No,” she says with a shake of her head. Her long locks spill around her, messy and a little frizzy from it just being morning. Still beautiful. Still earth-shattering and soul stopping.
“Everly,” I take a deep, shaky breath, but the tears cloud my vision and take over the control I try to have to tell her. The more I fight against it, the stronger the pain gets.
“No! Please, don’t,” she covers her mouth with her hand and sobs. “No. Not her, too.” She hides her face in her palms, and sobs make her shoulders shake. “What happened? What happened, Rowan? Why?” she wails, dropping back down to the bed in a depressed, broken heap.
I run and jump on the bed to hold her. I pull her to my chest, keeping my hand on the back of her head and put her ear over my heart. I don’t know if the sound of it still calms her or not, but all I can do is try. Tears leak out of the corners of my eyes as she sobs harder than I remember. These cries are soul-wrenching, deep, like her soul is being shredded apart from her body.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, running my hands through her hair.
Her hands clutch my back, holding me so close her breasts push against my chest. Tears wet my flesh, but through the sobs, through the pain, through the heartbreak, she whispers back.
“I’ve got you too.”
I nestle my chin on her shoulder and let us ride the pain, together. Her presence, her touch, the sound of her cries, the smell of her hair, the sweet lyrical tone of her voice, everything about her, her skin, her lips, her heart, it makes me feel comforted.
My own tears leave my eyes. The first ones I’ve cried since my mom died. I accept Everly’s embrace.
I feel her desperation, her agony. How much she wants for the pain to go away. And the longer I hold her, the longer I have my hands on her back, the more I never want to leave this bed.
She makes me feel at home.
And right now, she’s the only home I have.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that. It feels like days, but the next time I open my eyes, the sun is gone and replaced by night. Everly is still asleep, her cheeks red from tears and her eyes swollen from the heavy emotion.
Her brows furrow when I unwrap my arms from around her to get up. I don’t bother covering myself up since it is just she and I. I don’t know what is going on between us, but I don’t have the time to figure it out. There is no turning back after last night, and to be honest, all the anger I’ve felt over the years, is gone.
Well, now it is replaced with sadness and a depression, but it is better when she is here to share it with, just like when we were kids. I sigh, feeling like I’ve been hit by a freight train. Too much has happened in one week.
My head starts to throb again, but it doesn’t matter, I need to call Gray and tell him what happened. While I’m at it, I should call Blaire, too. I haven’t talked to her since we were teens, but I’m sure Everly would want her to know too.
Because now who knows how long it will be before we can go home. And be separated again.
Would she really leave me for a second time? I brush a piece of hair out of her face and push it behind the curve of her ear. I can’t think about that right now, either. I have to think about my dad and Barbara. How they died just trying to enjoy the love they had for one another, and out of all the ways they died, they died in a snowstorm.
I always thought my dad would go in his sleep. I didn’t think anything in the world could grab him and take him under, but I underestimated Mother Nature. I snag my phone off my dresser and press two to call Gray.
It rings, and rings, and right as I’m about to hang up, his sleepy voice answers. “Do you know what time it is? Dude, I need my beauty sleep.”
“They’re dead,” I say bluntly.
“What?” he says, a little brighter and more awake. I guess death can do that to people.
“They died. In the snowstorm. Barbara had a broken leg, and they found a cave to ride out the storm, but they froze.” I clear the emotion building up in my throat.
“Fuck, dude. I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I really liked them.”
“Yeah, me too.” A sad laugh escapes my chest.
“How are you doing? I know it’s stupid, but do I need to come get you? What do you need from me? I’ll do it.”
My shoulders sag with relief. Gray is always there for me. He always has my back. I can always count on him to be there. “I need you to call Dad’s lawyers. It’s in a folder on my computer. I need to see his will. I don’t even know how he wants to be buried,” I sigh. “All the flights are cancelled with this snowstorm, so you can’t get me anyway. I’m here with Everly.”
A few beats of silence pass. “How is she doing?”
“Tonight was rough. She cried until she fell asleep. It’s like losing our parents all over again. We experienced it when we were younger. Her dad. My mom.”
“I’ll do everything I can to help you both. I’ll set up everything. I know some guys that own funeral homes.”
I’m not even going to ask how he knows that. “Thanks, man. Just let me know what the will says. Or give them my number.” The phone starts cutting in and out again, and I sigh. “I gotta go. I’m losing service, and I still need to call Blaire.”
“Blaire… is that Everly’s friend. She is her Gray?”
I chuckle, “Yeah, she is her Gray.”
“Lucky girl,” he says, trying to make me smile like he always does, but it doesn’t work. The weight in my chest is too heavy.
“Let me know.”
“Absolutely. I’m sorry, Rowan. I know how close you and your dad were. I’m here for you.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose when the tears threaten again, and my eyes start to burn. “Thanks, man. I gotta go, okay?”
“I know it’s weird to say because we are guys, and men don’t say this to each other because it’s considered taboo. But I l
ove you, man. I just want you to know that.”
I sigh, nodding and forget he can’t see me. “I love you too, Gray. I’ll call you later.” I hurry to hang up and rush to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and step inside the stall.
I don’t wait until the water is warm. I don’t care. I just need a place where I can let my emotion fall without being seen. I lean my hands against the shower and bow my head, letting the cold water punish my skin and the back of my neck. And the tears fall with every memory I have of my father that runs through my mind.
He is gone.
He is really gone.
I lay my forehead against my arm and cry silently. I don’t care that I’m a grown man. I can cry for the death of my father, my mentor, my advocate, my idol. I’m so out of it; I don’t even hear the shower door open. Everly’s arms wrap around me, and she presses her cheek against my back, lacing her fingers together in the middle of my chest.
It’s just what I need.
I lay my hand over hers and sigh. “I can’t imagine feeling this with anyone else.”’
“Me either,” she whispers over the steady hiss of the shower. “I never thought last week would be the last time I talked to my mom. That’s all I keep thinking about. The last time. It’s scaring the shit out of me,” she says with a slight uptake in her voice.
I spin around and put my hands on her waist, letting the stream of water hit my back. “The last time?” I ask with confusion.
“Yeah, you know. The last time. She called me for the last time, not thinking it would be. She got up the day she broke her leg, thinking that day was going to be the same as all the others. She brushed her teeth for the last time, kissed your dad for the last time, got dressed for the last time,” her voice keeps getting higher and higher with emotion as she continues to speak. “She told me she loved me for the last time. I’ll never get to hear it again. She hung her coat for the last time, drove, smiled, hugged, ate. Oh, I hope she had her favorite food before she died. I hope she really lived and was happy before she took her last breath for the last time. It isn’t fair.”
