Scarlett Limerence

by K. A Knight

  Milo is sitting on the floor with black bat wings attached to him and a bow tie around his neck. I can’t help it, I laugh so much I have to lean against the wall. The dog throws me an indignant look, but when Scarlett scratches his head and speaks to him, he’s happy again. “You ignore him, he’s just sad he doesn’t look as pretty as you, yes he is. Look how pretty you are,” she coos at him and he barks, licking at her hand before throwing me a look as if to say, yeah, bitch.

  “What, and I didn’t look pretty in my hat?” I tease, still leaning against the wall.

  She winks over at me. “No, you looked hot as hell.”

  My mouth goes dry then, my cock jerking in my pants, but as usual she’s oblivious as she drops a kiss on Milo’s head and carries on unpacking the bags. I send my cock a pained look before heading over and placing the teas on the table, and then I lean back into the sofa and watch her. She organises it all and looks around before seeming to realise I’m here.

  “You ready to decorate?” she asks, almost bouncing in her seat.

  “I’ll be your helper. You tell me where and what,” I offer and she nods, jumping to her feet. I follow after her as she piles things in my waiting arms, explaining where each one needs to go. I do as I’m told, grabbing the ladders and nails and hanging each decoration while she deals with the others. Her phone is blaring Halloween music, and my eyes keep going back to her to see her dancing and laughing with Milo while she decorates. For a moment, I just stop and watch her spin in circles with Milo, singing along happily, but when she catches me staring, all I do is grin and go back to putting up the decorations.

  One inch at a time, she’s making this place a home…and me a better man, one that might one day be worthy of her.

  Two hours later, we’re both sweaty and grinning as we step back and take in our handiwork. The house looks like the Halloween shop. I’m pretty sure we bought one of everything. Milo is jumping about, trying to reach the bats and spiders hanging from the ceiling. Tombstones and zombie hands cover the front garden and porch. Inside, there are black candles, skulls, and an assortment of other decorations scattered around. She even got pillows with a pentagram on one, and another saying, “Witch, please.”

  I’m pretty sure I saw her sneak upstairs with some things as well, and I can’t wait to find out what she did, but for now I just drape my arm around her shoulders and take in my home. “It’s perfect.” I grin.

  “Yeah? I might have gone overboard. I’ve never decorated, so I didn’t know.” She sighs and I turn her to face me, tipping her chin up.

  “It’s perfect, baby girl, like you,” I whisper, and her eyes widen before they begin smouldering. Her lips part and I have to swallow hard, tilting my head down, but just as our lips are about to touch, Milo barges through us with a bat in his mouth, sending us both back into opposite walls. We look from him to each other and burst out laughing. That little cockblocker. He’s undoubtedly getting back at me for laughing at his costume.

  Her stomach growls then and I grin at her. “I better feed you,” I offer, and drop a kiss on her forehead as I pass and head into the kitchen to see what I can make for tea. I never used to cook, never saw the point, but with Scarlett being here, I want her to eat properly and show her I’m more than just muscle.

  Look at me, all domestic and shit.

  “How does…” I groan, looking into the fridge. “Homemade pizzas sound?” I ask, and she hops up on the counter next to me.

  “Yes! Can I help?” she inquires, pouting her lip out at me and I grin.

  “Sure, get the sauce and sweetcorn out of the cupboard,” I request and she nods, before hopping down, moving to the cupboard, and searching. I watch her ass for a second before dragging my eyes away and grabbing everything I need. I lay it all on the counter and grab the knives, spoons, and chopping board.

  “What are we making?” she questions, sidling up next to me.

  “BBQ chicken,” I reply, breathing in her scent from her being so close, and feeling her body pressed to my side. Shit.

  At least feed her first before I ravish her, I remind myself.

  I unwrap the premade dough bases and spoon the sauce on before spreading it, and then pass it to her. She cheeses and adds toppings while I work on the second, and then I heat up the oven and we pop them in to cook. Leaning back near the cooker, I watch as she wipes down the counter and then turns to face me, and as soon as our gazes clash, I’m moving.

  We meet halfway across the kitchen. I pick her up and she wraps her legs around my waist as our mouths meet desperately, our teeth clacking in our haste. She groans into my mouth and I grip her arse, walking her backwards until she meets the wall. She gasps and I slip my tongue into her mouth, tangling it with hers, groaning at the sweet taste of her and the feeling of her hot body moving against mine. Her hands tangle in my hair, tugging the strands free before she runs her fingers through it.

  Her hands move lower, tracing down my spine, and making me thrust against her warm center, which is pressed up against my aching cock. She grabs the bottom of my shirt, tugs it up, and traces up my bare skin. Each place her hands touch, she claims as her own, my body and skin becoming hers even as she submits to my mouth while I pin her there…yet she’s in control.

  She yanks on my shirt again and I rip it over my head before diving back in to kiss her, craving her taste and those little breathy moans she’s making. Her fingers trail over my pecs, and when she catches her fingernails on my nipples, I growl into her mouth, the last of my restraint snapping. Jerking away from her mouth, I pull her shirt over her head and toss it behind me as I rake my eyes over her exposed skin. She shivers from my look alone, her breasts heaving in her white lace bra.

  “So fucking responsive,” I murmur, tracing across her stomach, which trembles at my touch, before trailing up and cupping her breasts, tweaking her nipples through the lace.

  “Max,” she whispers, begging, and it kills me, but I wink up at her before leaning down and sucking her nipple into my mouth through the lace. She arches into my mouth, groaning and gripping my head, pulling me closer as she rubs her pussy along my jean-clad cock.

  Letting her tight little nipple pop from my mouth, I give the other the same treatment, her cries spurring me on. Fuck, she’s even better than I imagined. Tracing my fingers down her curves, I pop open the button of her jeans and press my fingers into her panties.

  “Yes, fuck,” she moans.

  Licking at her nipple, I let go and pull the bra down with my teeth, wanting her breasts bare before me, but not wanting to give up her wet heat. Cupping her pussy, I groan at the feel of her slickness against my palm as she presses down on me, begging me wordlessly for more. “What do you want, baby girl?” I whisper against her breasts, licking around her nipples, which are begging for my mouth again. Shit, I can’t wait to come all over them, but that’s for next time. First, I want to hear her scream for me as I taste her pussy. I want to watch her fall apart on my tongue and fingers.

  When she doesn’t answer, I stop moving and she cries out. “Tell me,” I order, my tone leaving no room for compromise.

  “Touch me,” she begs.

  “Where?” I demand, rolling my eyes up to see her staring down at me with wide eyes and an open mouth. Her lips are swollen from my kisses. Fuck, I bet she would look like that after I fucked her mouth too.

  “Max,” she snaps, and I grin up at her as her eyes narrow, flaming as she looks at me. “Touch my fucking pussy,” she commands.

  “That’s all you had to say, baby girl,” I reply, and when her mouth opens to order me again, I run my fingers along her pussy, collecting her wetness before circling her clit, watching her reaction. She closes her eyes, drops her head back, and moans.

  “Eyes on me,” I growl, and she opens them instantly, her gaze clashing with mine as I nip at her nipples before pressing a finger inside her.

  Fuck, she’s so tight and wet, and when I add another, I feel her stretching around me. Damn, if this is how
good she feels on my fingers, I can’t wait to feel her around my cock. “So wet,” I murmur, and she owns it, licking her lips.

  “Yes, now why don’t you make me wetter?” she teases.

  Oh my little Scarlett, the things I’m going to do to you. When I’m finished, she won’t be able to open that smart little mouth for anything except to scream my name, but I do love the fire, the fight she has. She gives as good as she gets. She doesn’t wait for me to move, but starts rocking against my fingers, chasing her own release.

  Pulling my fingers out, I slam them back in as I attack her breasts, sucking and licking and biting, waging war on her body, showing her how wild and out of control she makes me. I’m telling her without words how much she means to me. Yanking my hand from her pussy before she comes, I rip away her underwear and kiss her again, swallowing her protests. When she’s dazed again, I let go, unwinding her legs from my hips and holding her to the wall with my arm around her stomach, before dropping to my knees in front of her spread pussy.

  She looks like a feast, and I plan to eat my fill.

  Scarlett gasps when I lick her pussy, and then it’s my turn to groan at her taste. “You taste as sweet as I thought,” I tell her, before lapping at her pussy.

  She wiggles against the wall, but I know I can hold her up. “Max, Max,” she chants, and I decide to be nice.

  Circling her clit with my tongue before sucking on it, I lick down to her pussy and dip inside, letting her ride my tongue as I press my finger to her clit. She comes away from the wall slightly as she moves, but I slam her back and that only seems to send her higher. “More!” she begs.

  I replace my tongue with my fingers, fucking her hard and fast as I lick and suck at her pussy. I could eat her all day, she’s that fucking sweet, and when I feel her pussy start to spasm, I look up at her. “Come on my fingers,” I demand, and she screams wordlessly, thrashing against me as I suck on her clit, her pussy clamping down on my fingers.

  When she slumps against the wall, I slow my thrusts and gently lick her with my tongue, not being able to get enough of her taste, before removing my fingers and sucking them clean as she watches.

  The timer for the pizza goes off, yanking me back to reality, and I stumble away with her cream on my lips and chin. She’s slumped against the wall, her expression dazed, her chest flushed and thighs wet, and all I want to do is dive back in. She is oblivious to the thoughts and worries clouding my head.

  Fuck, what did I do?

  Because I finally realised something, I’m not just obsessed with Scarlett, I’m in love with her.

  Me loving her could get her killed. I’ve been fooling myself, thinking I could control this, that I could walk away if it got too deep, but it already did without me realising it. Shit, I was planning a life with her, but men like me don’t get the whole fucking picket fence and a wife like Scarlett. We get a bullet to the head and a casket, and that’s what her future looks like if she stays with me.

  I serve the pizzas in a daze and nod through the conversation at dinner. If she notices me being lost and distant, she doesn’t comment, but when she kisses me goodbye, she lingers like she feels it will be the last.

  A goodbye.

  Because that’s what it has to be. I can’t doom her, and that’s what will happen if we carry on. For her, I would give up everything, but it wouldn’t be enough. For her, I will give up love. To protect her, to save her, I will leave her alone, but I’ll never be far. She will always have me there in the dark, protecting her, she just won’t know it.

  The night seems much darker and lonelier now, closing in on me and mocking me with her scent in my house and her taste on my tongue. I had a taste of heaven, but now I’m back in hell. At least she isn’t here with me.

  Chapter Twenty

  Scarlett

  The next morning, I wake up with a grin on my face. Yesterday was amazing and I’m not only talking about how Max made me come so hard I couldn’t even walk, but just being with him, having fun, and enjoying things. For once I felt normal. I forgot all my worries, all the weight on my shoulders. For once, with him, I was happy, but it’s dashed away when I check my phone.

  Hottie Next Door: I have a last-minute trip for work. I’ll be back at the end of the week. I dropped off your laptop and bags with Nadia, she said she would get them to you. The Jeep is in my drive with the keys inside. Make sure to use it to drive anywhere you need, I filled the tank.

  I reread the message four times, but each time I come to the same conclusion—something is wrong. I’d noticed he seemed distracted last night, but I just assumed he was tired…maybe he was worried about this trip? But why didn’t he tell me? Or maybe it’s because of what we did? Did I do something wrong? Have I pushed him away? Questions cloud my mind, but I know it’s not fair to unload them on him via text, I can ask him when he’s back.

  Me: Need me to check in on Milo?

  I ask instead and wait for reply…but when it doesn’t come in the next ten minutes, I put my phone down and get ready for the day, knowing I’ll have to take the bus. There is no way I’m driving his car. It’s really expensive and that would just be weird, so even with as much as I hate the bus, I can take it for the week. That isn’t what has me moping though, it’s the thought of not seeing Max for a whole week. I’ve slowly become used to him being there all the time. When I wake up and when I go to sleep, I know he isn’t far, and I can count down the hours until I see him again. He’s where I find my happiness, and now it seems like I’m just going through the motions with sadness clinging to me, but I shake it off. Fuck, it’s only a week. I’ve been alone most of my life, I can do this, so why all of a sudden am I needing a man here? It doesn’t matter that the man is Max, it chafes me that I’ve become so dependent on him.

  I had a shower when I got in last night, so I slip into my workwear knowing I have the day shift. During the nights, it’s the hottest club in town, and during the day, it’s a restaurant and cocktail lounge with VIP rooms for meetings. They bring in the biggest tips, so I keep my fingers crossed that I can snag the role today. I need the money to fix my car and add to the tips I have to move out. That’s still my plan, even if my heart is telling me to stay just so I can be close to Max. The city isn’t far and my future shouldn’t be put on hold just because I’m in love with someone.

  Fuck, I love him?

  I stop what I’m doing, shocked at my own thoughts. Do I really?

  I search inside myself and a resounding answer comes back—yes, I do. It was slow and steady, my obsession turning into love, but it’s there. Not fully fledged and still so breakable…it was the little things. Like the way he is with Milo, or that he remembers my favourite drink, that he listens when I speak, gives me what I want and not just what I need…fuck. I’m in love with Max Hunt. Now what do I do about it?

  I can’t tell him, that’s for sure, since he will likely run to protect me. I can see it in his eyes. He still doesn’t believe he’s worthy of love and no words will change that, only actions. So, it’s settled. When he comes back, I’ll show him in a million little ways how I feel and pray he loves me back, or at least cares for me. Isn’t that what love is? A leap of faith, not hoping they will be there to catch you at the bottom, but believing they will leap with you and hold your hand as you fall.

  I managed to sneak out of the house without anyone noticing, and when I got to the bus stop, it started raining. I know there is supposed to be a big storm this week. Lucky me, I have the new leather jacket Max bought me. I keep sniffing it and burrowing into its warmth as I wait for the bus to come, which is late, as usual. When I get on board and find a seat, I pull out my phone, checking obsessively if he has texted me back, but he hasn’t.

  Maybe he’s busy? Though he has always made time for me whenever he is. It’s making me worry, but there is nothing I can do about it. So I put my phone away, telling myself I’ll only check it after my shift. I can’t afford to be distracted. My confused heart and loneliness doesn’t matter
when I have money to make. Life still goes on, even if Max isn’t here. It’s strange, though, to go from being so happy this morning to sitting on a bus, wet from the rain, wishing he was here with me. It’s true, you make your own happiness, and you can’t be happy with someone else if you aren’t with yourself…but Max blew that all away. I was surviving, just learning to live when he stormed into my life, and now it feels like I’m being dropped from the storm, left behind in the wreckage it leaves, and learning once again how to survive…this time without him.

  Dramatic, but true.

  Scarlett, get it together, I tell myself. I won’t mope and wait for his return, we are both adults. Maybe some time away will be good, give me time to get everything together, to think through what has happened, because in his arms it was a whirlwind, and now it’s all slowed down, giving me time to think.

  Climbing from the bus, I duck my head, rushing across the street to the cafe opposite the club to grab some breakfast before work. Max’s scolding voice echoes in my head, reminding me that I don’t eat enough.

  I’ll show him that I can survive without him. It won’t be living, but I’ll be here when he gets back and this time, I’m not letting him go again. Max Hunt is mine, he just doesn’t know it yet.

  After breakfast, where the waiter tries to give me his number and I have to politely turn him down, I head to work. Slipping in the back door and shivering from the contrast from the cold outside and the hot inside, I take off my jacket and wring out my hair before heading to the changing rooms.

  I’m the first here, like usual, and I grab my apron before brushing my hair and throwing it back—the wet strands will dry quickly from the heat inside and hopefully won’t curl too much. I add some lip gloss and mascara, not bothering with much else, since it will just sweat off as I work. I hear some of the other day shift workers heading in, so I move out of the way to let them get ready, shutting my locker as the door opens. The strong perfume makes my noise crinkle as Crystal—yes, that’s her real name—saunters in.