by Scott, Kylie
I hold firm, suck harder, and bite lightly down on her juicy little clit.
She screams, an avalanche of ecstasy pouring through her veins.
Wanting it to be the best she’s ever had, I stay on her, sucking, licking, eating until orgasms rolls over her, one after another. Tears shimmer in her eyes as she gasps, those salt-filled drops falling down the sides of her cheeks in beautiful rivers I want to kiss. Her hips are still thrusting, greedy for every last speck of pleasure she can take in, and I hold on, giving her all the love and desire I have inside me.
Eventually she tries to push my head away. “No more. Please, no more. Too sensitive,” she says. But when I don’t stop because I’m an animal, mindless in my pursuit of her pleasure, she grips my hair by the roots and yanks me off.
I know I’ve lost my mind. The haze of lust threads through my blood, every muscle in my body throbbing, aching to meld with her, to take, to rut, to fuck.
“Need you,” I snarl through clenched teeth, my body strung so tight I could break like an overextended rubber band at any moment.
“I’m right here.” She reaches for me as I stand and push my pants completely off. My dick is velvet-wrapped titanium, the crown swollen and purple, leaking at the tip.
Sadie shifts forward and takes my cock into the heat of her mouth, moaning around the sensitive flesh. I almost come right then but she wraps a vice-like fist around the base of me and goes to town.
“Fuck!” I roar, feeling like a king, as the woman I love pleasures me with her mouth.
And she’s talented. Goes straight for the deep-throating like a damn expert, dragging her slippery tongue all over my length then taking me to the back of her throat.
“Damn it, woman.” My balls draw up feeling like five-pound weights between my straining thighs as I try not to fuck her face. “Need to come,” I grit out.
She smiles around my dick and looks up at me with the prettiest blue eyes, her red mouth looking obscene around my girth. I trace my thumb around her lips stretched over around my cock. I tease her mouth while stroking my skin, drenched from her licking and sucking.
One of her hands cups my sac and caresses the tender jewels between her fingers. My eyes roll back in my head and I can’t help but thrust in and out of her mouth. She takes every plunge willingly, excitedly, going deeper with every movement.
She eases back down my length, prodding the little slit at the top with just the tip of her heavenly tongue. It’s filthy and exactly what I need.
“Your mouth… Jesus… I’m gonna blow, Sadie.” I grunt and breathe through the spears of bliss bursting throughout my body. My cock aches, my balls throb, and my heart pounds as Sadie takes me deep, running her hands around my hips to dig her fingers nails right into the meat of my ass cheeks.
I roar and fuck her face, losing control. I grip the back of her head and fist her silky hair at the roots, my hand flexing against her scalp as she takes every thrust, bouncing eagerly with the effort until the pleasure rises up inside me to the pinnacle of euphoria. The rapture of her warm hot mouth, the endless suction, the tease of her tongue has me expending jolt after jolt of my essence into her waiting throat. She mewls and moans, swallowing me down until I’m a shivering mess of raw emotions and liquid bones and muscle.
Sadie pulls me onto the love seat. The second I’m sitting, she straddles my lap and removes her T-shirt. I can’t even think straight enough to comment on seeing her spectacular tits because she reaches behind me for the afghan and wraps it around her naked back. Then she leans forward against my chest.
Skin to skin.
She presses her forehead to my neck and kisses my chest. I wrap my arms around her, allowing her warmth to sooth my ravaged body and soul.
“I love you, Sadie. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to express how much, but this feels close,” I murmur, kissing the top of her hair and resting my lips there, inhaling her lavender scent along with the combined smell of us.
She sighs against my chest and snuggles deeper.
“Now I know what real love and happiness feels like. And it’s scary, Evan.”
“Why?” I hold her tight.
“Because now that I know how good it is, I never want to lose it.”
* * *
SADIE
Gloria gives herself a long and luxurious bath on Jake’s living room rug while Evan and I sit side by side on the couch with our laptops. She is a glorious creature, but I’ve restrained myself from smooching on her so far. Turning all swollen red and itchy is less fun than you’d think. So far, the allergy medications are working, thank God. And Evan ran around the apartment with the vacuum cleaner earlier to try and keep fur to a minimum. The floofy baby was horrified at the noise and bravely hid in a cupboard the entire time.
All in all, the three of us are a picture of domestic bliss. Chicken breasts are marinating for dinner, and I’ve also been threatened with a salad. I honestly don’t mind Evan trying to improve my general health through better food choices. Especially with the threat of illness hanging over all of our heads. So long as he doesn’t mess with my snacks, we’re fine.
I’m working on my social media presence, posting in my fan group, asking how everyone is doing. A couple of nurses and other people who have family working in health care are having a hard time. They’re scared and frustrated, and I don’t blame them one bit. My group instantly rallies around the women, posting messages of love and support. The romance community really is a beautiful thing.
On my author page I ask what everyone is reading, a question that always gets good interaction. Some people are too worried and distracted to be able to concentrate on anything. Others are escaping into books to ease the anxiety. And there’s no right answer. No one best strategy for dealing with these horrible and scary times. Some people are stress-baking or getting into crafts while others are binging Netflix.
Parents mention the many challenges of homeschooling. Lord knows, I doubt I could explain anything above fifth grade math. Then there was how best to keep some sort of routine for kids while managing their stress levels. Other people are in quarantine alone, starved for fresh air and human touch but too afraid to go out. We’re all worried about the elderly in the community and furious at those who aren’t taking social distancing seriously. One COVID denier pipes up to tell us we’re all fools who are overreacting. I shut that down fast. Moron.
I hate feeling helpless. When you get down to it, I’m fortunate and privileged. Right here and now, I donate to a local food bank and give away a couple of gift cards to readers in my group. I don’t spend huge amounts, but it’s something at least.
Suddenly, Evan jerks besides me and says, “Fuck me.”
“I told you we need to take a short break on that front,” I mumble, still focused on watching a book trailer for one of my peers. It’s awesome. I make a note to contact her and ask who designed the video and also to score me an advanced reader copy. The books look incredible.
“No. It’s her. It’s fucking her. The girl who drugged me at the party. Mindy.” He stabs a finger at the screen of his computer. A blonde-haired woman is raising a glass of wine in the picture alongside several others. “I was starting to think I was going crazy and had invented her or something. But there she is!”
“Evan, that’s fantastic.”
“This was posted by an ex-cheerleader a while back. She quit to have a baby, if I’m remembering right.” He shoves a hand through his hair all aggravated-like. “Drinks with friends. That’s all it says.”
“She didn’t tag the people in the picture?”
“No. Shit.”
“And no one by the name of Mindy liked or commented?” I ask, setting my laptop aside and pushing closer to him.
“Doesn’t look like it. I’ve spent the last hour going through the cheerleaders’ pages and this is the first time I’ve caught sight of the woman. No mention of a Mindy or Melinda or anything even close to it. Dammit!”
“Calm down and give m
e that.” I confiscate the laptop from him and get busy saving the picture in question. “I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Reverse image search. Sometimes I see a random picture of a male model floating around the Internet. And I’d like to use them for a cover, but their name isn’t mentioned, right? So I do a reverse image search to track down other photos of them to find out who they are.” My fingers dance across the keyboard. It’s a simple enough matter really, putting the photo into a search engine. I just hope it works.
He stops his freak out and stares at me. “Baby, that’s genius.”
“Thank you. Though to be fair, I didn’t actually invent it. I just happen to know about it. Which possibly means I spend way too much dicking around on the computer, but oh well.” I smile. “Did you know if you send the words pew pew from your iPhone to another iPhone it does this little laser light show for you? I saw that on Twitter last night.”
“Focus, sweetheart.”
“Right. Sorry.” I inspect the screen. “Not her. Not her. Bingo! Yes. Here’s a shot of her on Instagram. Okay, here we go.”
I enlarge the picture and Evan scowls. “That’s Levi with her at some party.”
“Who’s Levi?”
“One of the guys on my team.” His jaw is clenched so hard I worry his teeth might crack. A dental visit is not in our near future.
“Okay. Well, the account belongs to one @mindybegood. I’m guessing that’s not her real surname, but some made up saucy cutesy nonsense. She’s apparently a dancer and dog owner. Nothing about where she lives or her place of work. And she’s a little careless with her online security and hasn’t locked down her account. Which works for us.” I slide the cursor up the screen, bringing more of her pictures into her view. “What can we see here?”
“Throwback to her school’s cheerleading outfit.” I point to the picture in question. The girl is really pretty. Blonde like me but that’s where the similarities end.
“Is that worth searching?” he grumbles.
“Eh. Hard to say. It would show where she came from, but not necessarily tell us where she is now,” I offer.
A grunt from Evan.
“Family BBQ. A selfie with her French Bulldog named Button. Button actually features quite prominently. What else have we got?” I scroll through the screen. “A shot of her in a bikini. What a hot bod. I can see why you followed her into that bedroom.”
“Your body’s better and those days are long behind me.” He huffs, clearly unhappy looking at pictures of a woman who screwed him over big time.
“Oh yeah?”
And then he goes and does it. Gives me the softest, warmest look with love-filled eyes. “Got everything I need sitting right here beside me.”
“Evan,” I whisper.
“Not going to lie to you. I was a player, Sadie. Those days are over.”
I don’t want to give into the unwelcome anxiety swirling in my gut. But then I’d rather not have to lie and smother my concerns either. Doesn’t seem like that would make for a healthy relationship. So here we go. “You really think once we’re out of lockdown and all of this is cleared up you’re not going to want to go to those team parties and run wild again?”
“Only if by run wild you mean have a beer or two before getting home to you. Spending time with the team is important. I’m not going to lie to you or build any false expectations. Being a baller is more than a job. It’s a lifestyle to a certain degree. And we’ve got to build that brotherhood between us, nurture it. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be doing anything that would hurt you, baby. Besides, most of the time I’d hope you’d be by my side.”
Him wanting me around with his friends makes me feel a tiny bit better but not enough for the worry and fear that’s bubbling up inside of me.
“You really think you can be happy with just this? With us?” I ask, my heart once again on my sleeve. Sheesh. The emotional maturity and shows of trust necessary for going forward with this man are huge. Big giant leaps of faith that could easily wind up with me being crushed or hurt. But here we are. “This isn’t going to alter my lifestyle all that much. I’m pretty much a shut-in by nature. But you’re giving up a certain amount of your social life by being with me.”
His gaze narrows on my face, his jaw set. “Sweetheart, I’m not giving up shit. I’m gaining you and that is everything. Trust that I know what I want for me. And baby, that’s you. Okay?”
“Okay.” Ugh. My eyes are watery. Again. “Um. Here’s an interesting photo. Scantily clad and posing with feathery fans. I wonder if she does burlesque? Though that won’t necessarily help us since the nightclubs are shut down and I doubt we’ll be able to find anyone to talk to even if we could locate where she performs. Pity she doesn’t tag her pics with locations.”
“Yeah.” I can feel the hope leaching out of him and I hate it. I hate that this is messing with his life and I wish I could do more.
“Night out with the girls. Do you recognize any of these faces from your cheerleading team?”
Lines furrow his forehead. “No.”
“There’s that shot with your friend. Does the background look familiar to you at all?”
He sighs. “Looks like a sports bar near home that we’ve been to a few times. The owners are pretty cool about us being there, don’t make a fuss or anything and don’t let anyone bother us.”
“That’s nice, but unfortunately it still doesn’t help us. What the hecking heck is going to help us track her down during a pandemic? That’s the question.”
“We need her home address. Her phone number or something concrete like that. We need to talk to her and find out what the hell went down.”
I nod, lips pursed in concentration. “Despite the number of romantic suspense and detective books that I’ve read, I’m not being much use here. Sorry.”
“That’s not true. You’ve gotten me way further than I’d have managed on my own.” He slumps back against the couch and stares at the ceiling. “Maybe I’ll give Polly my publicist a ring. Update her on what we’ve found and ask her if she’s got any ideas.”
“Worth a try.” Which is when my cell, sitting on the coffee table, starts buzzing like crazy. I pass Evan back the laptop and reach for the phone. Messages from Zahra. A constantly updating line of them. I unlock the screen and open up Messenger. And that’s when I see it. “Holy shit.”
He tenses. “What is it?”
“Photos of us. From when we went to the pharmacy the other day.” An endless parade of screen grabs march past my gaze. I don’t think my eyes could get any wider. And all the while, a yawning pit opens in my stomach. Because this can’t be good. It just can’t be. “Sparky gets smutty. A modern fairy tale for troubled football star. This is…Jesus, it’s everywhere.”
CHAPTER 16
QUARANTINE: DAY 16
SADIE
WHEN YOU GET RIGHT DOWN to it, I’d kind of been in denial about the whole dating a famous person thing. Ignoring the fact that Evan was a public figure was entirely possible due to the current situation with the whole world on pause. Or at least, that’s what it feels like. And it’s not like I have no experience with this sort of thing. People at book signings want my autograph and to have their photo taken with me. Within Romancelandia, I’m relatively well known. But my fame is nowhere near this level.
“My high school boyfriend wants to know if I can get him a signed jersey.” I pace up and down the living room with my cell in hand. Gloria is not happy with me. I know that much. She sits on the kitchen bench, giving me a most aggravated glare. “We only went out for three weeks before he dumped me.”
Evan sits on the couch, watching me with a deliberately blank face. “Just delete the message.”
“Also, a lovely lady by the name of Karen who blew you in a hot tub in Seattle a few years back says hi. She also says she’s still available when you’re ready to kick my fat ass to the curb. Charming, Karen. So much for the sisterhood.” My anger isn’t entirely rational.
But I don’t care. “Sex in a hot tub? That is not hygienic. Though I’m sort of impressed the woman is able to hold her breath that long under water.”
“I love your ass.”
“A random dude from Oakland says he’d totally do me. That’s nice. I really appreciate the vote of confidence.” I pace all the way to the windows and then turn back towards the kitchen.
“Random dude from Oakland can keep dreaming. You’re mine.”
I keep scrolling. Like a mad woman. “This person wants to know what Tarah thinks of me. Who’s Tarah, Evan?”
“You really didn’t look me up at all, huh?” he asks, stuffing a cushion behind his head. There’s a vaguely pained expression on his face now. This should be interesting.
“No. I was respecting your privacy. Waiting for you to tell me about your past or anything I needed to know.”
He prods at his teeth with the tip of his tongue. “Um. Yeah. Tarah was a swimsuit model I took to a Valentine’s Day charity event thing. Nice girl. A one-off. We had fun. Once.”
“You dated the model Tarah Moore?”
“I wouldn’t call it dating.” He sighs.
I flop onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Holy cow. She’s gorgeous.”
“You’re gorgeous,” he says.
“And you went out with her this year?” My voice wobbles and I hate it. Hate every second of the burn of insecurity that comes with dating not only a celebrity but someone who’s so incredibly good looking.
“Yes.”
“I see.” My heart plummets. Tarah Moore is a goddess. I’m a weirdo introvert novelist.
A frustrated-sounding groan spills from my man. “Sadie. Baby. We’re together now. None of this matters. Let’s just pretend we both came to this relationship virgins. Both of us pure and untouched. I never knew any swimsuit models or girls named Karen. You didn’t date pencil-dick Sean and your idiot high school boyfriend sure as hell doesn’t exist. Deal?”
“Ha. I’ll think about it.” Think about how perfect Tarah is. I pout.
“Everyone out there has an opinion. Doesn’t mean we need to give them head space.” He smooths down my hair with a hand, leans over, and kisses the crown of my head. “You’re going to drive yourself crazy reading the comments on all of these dumb-ass articles. None of these people know us. None of them have a fucking clue who we are or what we mean to each other. Our lives are our own.”
