by Bec Linder
Okay. Fine. I could put on my big girl pants.
I dialed the phone.
He answered, sounding a little out of breath. “Sadie,” he said.
“Hi, Elliott,” I said, and swallowed. I still wasn’t sure what to say.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Good,” I said. “I—I’m good.” And then I had to laugh, because we were making idiotic small talk like we barely knew each other. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I was—I’ve been processing, I guess. Working through some things.”
“I figured,” he said. “Where are you? Are you at home?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I’m at home, too,” he said. “Do you want to come over? I’d like to see you. Or I can come there—”
“I’ll come to you,” I said. “I wanted to stop by and see Regan, anyway.”
“That’s good,” he said. “Carter told me she’s having a hard time.”
“Yeah,” I said, “but I think she’ll be okay.”
“That’s good,” he said again, and then cleared his throat. He was nervous. I thought it was very sweet. “Just text me when you leave their place.”
“I’ll see you soon,” I said, and then I put on my coat and went out into the rest of my life.
TWENTY-SIX
Elliott
With Sadie coming over soon, I sprang into action. My apartment was, to say the least, not clean. I had let tidiness fall by the wayside over the past several days, as I finalized things with my new investor and made arrangements to bring Jim down from Boston. My armchair was buried underneath stacks of discarded clothing, and the toilet had a suspicious ring below the rim of the bowl. I could all too easily imagine Sadie’s face when she saw the squalor I was living in.
By the time I heard a knock on the door, the apartment was as clean as a hotel room—one of the benefits of living in a small space. I had even changed the sheets on the bed, just in case. You never knew.
I drew in a breath, and went to let Sadie in.
She stood in the doorway, wrapped in her coat, and looked up at me with eyes dark as a winter sea. Seeing her again was a punch directly to the solar plexus.
“Hi, Elliott,” she said.
“Sadie,” I said, and stood aside to let her come inside.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” she said, unbuttoning her coat. “I stopped to check on Regan, and I ended up staying longer than I intended to.”
“How is she doing?” I asked. Carter had mentioned postpartum depression, which as I understood it could run the gamut from periodic crying to hospitalization. I was fond of Regan; even crying was more than I would wish on her, and the thought of anything worse was incredibly alarming.
“She’s okay,” Sadie said. “Doing better. Her mom’s here now, and Carter’s working from home more. I think it’ll help when the baby is a little older and doesn’t need to eat, like, every two hours. Right now she feels like she can’t go anywhere or do anything that doesn’t involve her boobs.”
“Hmm,” I said, trying to decide if it would be crass to make a joke. It probably would be. “Do you think she would appreciate a visit? I was thinking about going to see her, but I don’t want to intrude.”
“I think she would love to see you,” Sadie said. She draped her coat over the back of my now-bare armchair—success—and unwrapped her scarf. She was wearing a skirt and knee-high boots, and I liked the thought that she had dressed up for me.
“I’ll go visit her tomorrow, then,” I said. “Sadie, it’s good to see you.”
“Yeah,” she said, ducking her head and glancing up at me, unexpectedly shy. I wanted to take her in my arms and never let her go. “I’m sort of—I had a weird week.”
“I know the feeling,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said again, and then looked away from me and folded her arms across her chest. She turned her back to me and walked toward the window, pausing for a moment and gazing down at the street. She was delaying the inevitable, but I was content to wait while she worked through whatever mental process was a necessary pre-requisite for her to actually talk to me.
But then she turned her attention to the top of my dresser and the collection of framed photographs there, and I winced. If she found—
And of course she did, unerringly. “Oh my God,” she said, bending down to peer at the picture in question.
I rubbed one hand over my face. I should have tossed that one out years ago.
“Is this you?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Oh my God,” she said again. “And this is Carter?”
“Yes,” I said. “And our friend Carolina.”
“You have dreadlocks,” she said.
I sighed. “Yes.”
She started laughing, and looked at me with sparkling eyes. “You know, the first time I talked to Carter about working for you, he described you as a hippie,” she said. “I never really understood what he was talking about, but now I totally get it.”
“He’s never gotten over that… unfortunate stage of my life,” I said. “It was years ago. I promise I have more sense now.”
“It was a good look for you,” she said. “I bet you smoked a lot of weed and like, participated in drum circles.”
“I’ve done a drum circle or two in my time,” I said. “But you didn’t come over here to make fun of me for my former lifestyle decisions.”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t. It’s a nice side benefit, though.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I read your note.”
“I know you did,” I said. “We talked about it.” My patience ran out. I had no desire to make small talk all afternoon while she nosed around my apartment. “Sadie, I want you to come back and work for me. I want you in my life, in every way that counts. I want you in my bed every night and at my side every day. You’ve made me wait long enough.”
“I know,” she said, nodding, and drew in a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
I raised my eyebrows. “For?”
“You,” she said. “Us.” She drew in another breath. “My apartment was still full of my fiancé’s stuff. I never cleaned it out after he died. So that’s what I’ve been doing. I finally went through his things and dealt with all of it. So I guess I’m ready to move on, now.”
“Oh, Sadie,” I said, my heart aching and glad. I took a step toward her, and she came into my arms and clung to me. I stroked my hand over her hair, careful not to disturb her braids. “I went to go see my father.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked, her breath warm against my chest through the fabric of my t-shirt. “And?”
“I told him to go fuck himself,” I said. “In more or less exactly those words.”
She laughed. “I don’t believe you.”
“I was a bit more tactful than that,” I admitted. “But only slightly.”
“So you’re going to accept your mom’s money,” she said.
“Yes,” I said. “You were right. I was only refusing it to spite my father. Fuck him. I don’t care what he thinks.”
“I think you still care a little,” she said.
“You’re right,” I said. “But I’ll get over it.”
“I’m really glad,” she said. “Now you can build the epic ceramic water filter of your dreams.”
I grinned. Her hair smelled like lavender. I squeezed my arms around her waist, holding her closer. “You’re going to help me, of course.”
“Of course,” she said. “I want a raise, though.”
“Demanding woman,” I murmured. I slid my hands a little lower. “We’re going to have make-up sex now, right?” We had more talking to do, but it could wait until later. I had spent a long, lonely week with nothing but my right hand to keep me company.
“You men are all alike,” she said, but she twined her arms around my neck and lifted her face toward mine to receive my kiss.
It had been too long. I’d forgotten how good she felt in my arms, and the first taste of h
er mouth set wild lust roaring through my veins. She was mine, now, at last. Taking things slow was off the table.
I claimed her mouth, one arm around her waist and the other at the back of her neck, holding her in place, forcing her to accept my hungry kisses. She gave a soft, breathy moan and relaxed against me, giving me tacit permission to do whatever I wanted. She was perfect for me: eager, experienced, happy to submit.
My cock ached. I pressed my hips against her, giving her undeniable proof of my desire. She laughed against my mouth, and I pulled back and said, “Is something funny?”
“No,” she said, smiling up at me. “I would never laugh at your, uh. Endowment.”
“I should hope not,” I said. “You’ll make me self-conscious.”
“Mm, you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of,” she said. “Trust me.”
“Flattery,” I said, pleased despite myself, and kissed her again.
I undressed her one piece of clothing at a time, standing there in the middle of the floor with the pale afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. Sadie let me turn her this way and that as I disrobed her, docile, raising her arms at a single word, smiling at me. I sucked hot kisses along her neck while I unbuttoned her blouse, and then bent to trail my mouth along the newly exposed territory. Her skin was warm and smooth, dark and gleaming, and I intended to put my mouth on every inch of it.
I unfastened the final button and dropped her blouse onto the floor. She gave me a baleful look, which I ignored. I didn’t care if her shirt got wrinkled. I would buy her a new one.
Her bare skin prickled. “Are you cold?” I asked.
“No,” she said, and raised her arms to fold them protectively across her chest. “Maybe a little.”
“I’ll get you in bed soon enough,” I said, with one hand at her shoulder, urging her to turn her back to me. She went without resistance. I unhooked her bra and slid my hands back up her shoulder-blades, then down the front of her body until I was cupping her breasts with both hands. Her nipples hardened at my touch, and she tipped her head back against my shoulder with a sigh.
“That feels good,” I said against her ear, both asking and instructing.
“Yeah,” she said. “It feels really…” She trailed off without finishing her sentence.
I took her meaning, though. I rubbed my palms against her nipples, very lightly, teasing, until she arched her back, lifting her breasts into my hands, mutely asking for more.
I took my hands away and dropped them to the waistband of her skirt.
“Elliott,” she said, audibly frustrated.
I grinned with fierce delight. I was glad she couldn’t see my face. I wanted her to beg me for it. I wanted her so wet and throbbing and eager that she begged for my cock.
I unzipped her skirt and slid it down over her hips. She was wearing tights again, the bane of my existence, and I tucked my fingers in the elasticized band at her waist and tried to decide how irritated she would be if I ripped the damn things from her body.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said.
I sighed. How did women always do that? “You’re no fun.”
“These were expensive,” she said. She unzipped and tugged off her boots, and then expertly shimmied the tights down her legs, giving me a nice view of her ass in the process. She was wearing a little lacy thong that I wanted to peel off with my teeth.
I slid one hand across the bare skin at the top of her thigh, right at the crease where her ass and thigh met. It was my favorite place on a woman’s body.
“Handsy,” Sadie said.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I said, and roughly pulled her back against me, pinning her against my chest. My free hand roamed her body: her round tits, her soft belly, the gentle slope of her hip. I reached down and cupped the cloth-covered heat between her legs, and she gasped and twitched against me.
“Do you like that?” I asked. She didn’t respond, and I stroked her through her panties, running my fingers along her slit until the fabric grew damp. Still she said nothing, and I craned my neck to glance at her face.
She was biting down on her lower lip, eyes closed, face a mask of pained ecstasy.
Perfect.
I slipped my hand inside her underpants and touched her directly, my fingers moving over her swollen flesh. She did make a noise then, a high-pitched, bitten-off squeak of a sound, and I buried my smile against the side of her neck. She was perfect. Even when she drove me crazy, she was still perfect.
“These need to go,” I said, and was surprised by how rough my voice sounded. “I don’t want a single scrap of clothing on you.”
“But you’re still wearing all of your clothes,” she said, turning her head to look at me over her shoulder. “It isn’t fair.”
“None of this is about fairness, little girl,” I said, and slapped her ass hard enough to make a loud, satisfying crack.
She yelped and jumped away from me, then gave me a look of such extravagant woundedness that I couldn’t take her seriously. “Do you have a spanking fetish or something?”
“Let’s find out,” I said, and took a step toward her.
I stripped off her thong and pushed her down onto the edge of the bed, gently but firmly, and she gazed up at me with eager heat in her eyes. She talked a good game, but I knew she loved it when I shoved her around a little.
“Lie down,” I said.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I didn’t say you could ask questions,” I said. “Lie down on the bed.”
She did it, frowning, gorgeous, and I sank to my knees and knelt before her on the carpet.
“Elliott,” she said.
I spread her legs apart, my hands on her thighs to hold her open, and bent my head to taste her.
She cried out and arched her hips off the bed, but I was ready for her and held her down. She was slick beneath my tongue, wet and heated, and she tasted good enough to make my head spin.
“Oh God, Elliott,” she said, and buried her hands in my hair.
I settled in for a long, slow exploration. Her hips twitched with every movement of my tongue and teeth, and I couldn’t get enough of her soft noises or the way she lightly scratched at my scalp with her fingernails. I licked her with the broad flat of my tongue, and then fluttered the tip against her most sensitive spot. I curled my hands around her thighs, tracking each minute quiver of her muscles. My cock throbbed between my legs, and I wanted nothing more than to bury myself in her willing body, but I was determined to make her come first. There was a time and a place for selfishness, but make-up sex wasn’t it.
That didn’t mean I had infinite patience, though. I wanted to get Sadie off hard and fast, and then commence with the delightful business of fucking her into the mattress.
She would be happy to lie there all day and let me work her over with my mouth. It was time to pull out the big guns.
I tucked one hand between her legs and rubbed at her slick entrance. She let out a long, contented sigh and spread her legs apart a little further. It was all the invitation I needed. I sank one finger inside of her, and when she squirmed against me and moaned, I added a second.
“Oh my God,” she said, slurring her words together.
I smiled, and sucked hard on her clit.
Sadie was no match for me or the fingers I curled relentlessly inside of her. In very short order she was moaning and tossing her head from side to side, pinching her nipples and rolling her hips against me. I sat back and stroked her clit with my free hand. “You’re going to come for me now, aren’t you?”
“I. I’m. I don’t,” she said, panting, incoherent.
I couldn’t get enough. I would never have enough of her, not if we both lived for a hundred years. I set my mouth to her again, using my tongue to rub firmly against her, and she arched off the bed like a drawn bow, tense, shaking, and came.
I held my mouth in place and let her work herself through it. She clenched around my fingers, three ti
mes, four, and then fell back to the mattress, boneless.
“Wonderful,” I murmured, and kissed her thigh.
“Come up,” she said, grasping at me, her hands in my hair and on my face. “I want—come here. I need you inside of me.”
“I will never argue against that,” I said, and went to the nightstand to fumble around for a condom.
I was still fully dressed, somehow. Removing my clothes would have taken too much time. I unbuttoned my pants and shoved them down to mid-thigh, and rolled the condom onto my aching erection.
Sadie, propped up on her elbows, laughed at me. “You look ridiculous.”
“I’m glad you approve,” I said. “You won’t laugh when I’m fucking you.”
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Is that a promise or a threat?”
“Darling, that’s a guarantee,” I said, and lay down on the mattress with her, the full length of my body pressed against hers. She tangled her limbs with mine, a jumble of arms and legs and her warm, smooth skin, and I kissed her and rolled on top of her and guided my cock into her hot, tight body.
There was no finesse to our coupling. I had thought about this a lot in the past week, eased myself into sleep most nights with my hand around my dick and my head full of Sadie, but no fantasy could compare to the mind-blowing reality of feeling her stretched out beneath me. I moved quickly and carelessly, and she wrapped her legs around the backs of my thighs and moved with me, our bodies striving together, both of us greedy for our shared pleasure.
“You’ll be the death of me,” I gasped, and she laughed and scratched her nails against the back of my neck.
I couldn’t last any longer. I buried my face against her neck and shuddered through my orgasm.
Later, after we cleaned up and I finally took off the rest of my clothes, we lay down in bed together, facing each other, close enough to share breath.
“Stay the night,” I said, running one hand along her hip. “Stay here and sleep with me.” I liked the idea of sleeping curled against her all night, listening to her breathe in the dark.
“I don’t have a change of clothes,” she said.
I rolled my eyes. “Really, Sadie? You’ve never done the walk of shame before? I find that hard to believe.”
