“So tell me already.”
“Mark’s mother phoned me earlier.”
“Oh. Fuck. Your mum in law?”
“I suppose. Anyway… she phoned to accuse me of being an home-wrecker and an adulteress and a lesbian slut. Not that she used the final word; she’s entirely too upper class to be so crude. I did find the term lesbian funny though. And… strangely validating, really.”
“Right. Well. I hope you tore her a new arsehole in your rebuttal.”
“That’s a very graphic and needlessly profane phrase. And yes… I rather think I did.”
I loved how deadpan she could be.
“So what did you do?”
“I gave her an itemised list of every cruel and hurtful thing he’s done in the last couple of years, and a description of the nethers of every woman that I have proof he’s slept with thanks to all those photos and videos he kept. She tried several times to get a word in… but I had quite a bit of momentum built up so she didn’t really have much luck. She was apologising by the end of it. I think it’s every mother’s worst nightmare when their child turns out to be…”
“A lying, womanising pile of philandering baggage was the term you used,” I said. I smiled smugly, proud of myself for remembering.
“Quite.”
“You’re right, though, that wasn’t a very funny story. You tell shit stories. Boo.”
She snorted, and squeezed me back against her.
“At least I get to end my day like this,” she sighed. “Warm and wet and pressed up against you.”
“Mhmm. Lesbian slut.”
“Oh shush, you.”
I reclined against her for a while, mulling. Then I took a breath.
“Sam?” I said.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry for making you into an adulteress. I’m sorry for wrecking your life…”
“Willa, stop. Please. You haven’t wrecked my life. You’ve given it back to me.”
“Oh.”
“God, woman, stop agonizing over it. I’m an adult. I accepted the consequences when I decided that I was going to… to fling myself at you. Sure, having Mark turn into a psycho wasn’t… ideal. But, you know what, I’m… I’m okay. I’m okay because I have you. So, please, just stop. Just stop worrying. You, Beth and I will all be fine.”
“Okay.”
“Just enjoy being in my arms for a bit.”
“I always do,” I whispered. “Ever since that very first time you hugged me. It’s my favourite place. Close second is anywhere I get to stare at your bum.”
She snorted and kissed me just behind the ear.
“You always did seem to be looking at me,” she replied. “It was… sweet. And… a little bit intriguing, I’ll admit.”
“Couldn’t help it. You’re utterly my type,” I said. “Wash me?” I added, hopefully.
“Only because you’re my type,” she said, as she reached for the body wash. “Lean forward. Let me clean those lovely boobs of yours.”
“Sam. Those are my nipples,” I protested, after a while.
“They’re part of your boobs. Now shush.”
“That’s not my boobs either,” I whimpered, a little bit later.
“No, but it is one of my favourite parts of you,” she breathed. “It also needs care and attention. I can always stop if you’d prefer…”
“No! No. Don’t tease me like that. You know I hate it when you… uhn… Sam… that’s delicious…”
“You’re delicious. Spread your legs a bit more and… and tell me if it gets uncomfortable…”
I leaned back against her, enjoying the way her arm moved against my hip as she gently stroked around my clit.
“You’re so good at that,” I groaned. “So good. It’s probably illegal how good you are…”
I squeezed my eyes closed, concentrating on the feeling of her fingertip on and around me. I raised my hands to my breasts; began to pinch and twist my nipples almost to the point of pain.
My hip and thigh muscles quivered.
“Sam,” I whimpered. “I love this. I love this with you…”
“Wish I was between your legs,” she panted. “With my tongue and fingers. We should buy a toy or two…”
I moaned in agreement, tried to spread my twitching legs further for her.
“Put it in me,” I begged. “Finger. In.”
“Too much soap. I’ll hurt you. Again just now. Promise,” she whimpered.
I moaned in short-lived disappointment; I could feel her own breasts and nipples firm against my back, I could imagine the moisture that would have under other circumstances been beading on her lips, the pink flush that built on her throat and mons and inner thighs when she was aroused, the little jagged breaths she’d take as I penetrated her with my finger, or when I teased my tongue along her wonderful lips…
My belly clenched; I gasped a breath.
“You’re close, I can tell,” she growled, throaty and deep. “God, I get so horny when you’re close. I want to climb on you and sit on your face and have you lick me until I turn inside out…”
I groaned, long and low. My leg spasmed out straight and I started to writhe against her hand which was now clamped between my thighs.
And then – a long, run on chain of grunting shivering gasps that sent water slopping out over the lip of the bath and soaked the towel she’d placed there so carefully for me.
She laughed, exultant, and clutched me to her as my contractions slowed and eased.
I made some sort of stupid boneless noise as I flopped down against her.
“I like this bath,” she whispered into my ear. She closed her arms around me and held me to her. “Maybe some day we can have one like this.”
And I moaned a quiet little noise that meant “Yes please,” but somehow didn’t quite make it all the way there.
.:.
Her phone began to ring as she was towelling her hair dry. She made a face and stood up from the stool she’d been perching on and wandered over to glance disinterestedly at the screen.
I watched her from my lethargic little blanket cocoon… then rose up on my elbow as she put her hand to her mouth in shock.
“Sam? What is it?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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