“Oh god!” I moan as my fingers grab onto the bedsheets to hold on because my body has a mind of its own, thrusting toward the source of pleasure with no shame. Nash’s big hands wrap around both of my thighs, squeezing them and holding them down while his mouth continues its fervent attack on my pussy until I’m trembling and coming on his tongue in wordless screams that seem to go on forever.
When the room eventually stops spinning and my senses return, Nash’s hands drop from my thighs. I can feel the vibration of his deep, throaty groans as he comes in his hand, or my panties, while his frantic tongue licks up every last drop from me.
“Fuck, I needed that,” Nash says with a sigh of relief when his mouth slows and his lips press soft kisses on my pussy and work their way to my inner thigh while his palms stroke up and down the tops of my legs.
“Ah, yeah, me too. Thanks,” I agree as I stare up at the ceiling, my body still limp and relaxed while my brain races to try and catch up to what the hell just happened. Oh shit. Did I just thank him?
Before I can even hide my face in shame, Nash is back on his feet, standing between my legs while, unfortunately, zipping up his jeans without me getting to feel him inside of me. “You ready to go eat?” he asks with a smirk as he reaches up to swipe the back of his hand over his still glistening lips, removing the evidence of his most recent meal.
“Uh-huh,” I agree when I prop myself up on my elbows and pull my knees together.
“Need a minute?” he guesses, walking over to toss my now balled up and soiled panties in the trash can.
“Yes, please,” I reply as my face reddens to sunburn levels. Why did he jerkoff rather than just fuck me? It has to be obvious that I would’ve let him since I was spread wide in front of him. He could’ve done anything he wanted; and while I loved his mouth, I’m left wanting more.
“I’ll wait for you in the hallway,” Nash tells me before he goes over and grabs his cut from the arm of the chair. He stands there holding it in his hands, staring down at it for a few seconds before turning to me again. “Guess I should leave my cut here,” he says, a statement not a question.
“What? Why?” I ask, finally able to sit all the way up with my legs hanging over the edge of the mattress, pushing aside the slight sting of rejection.
“Your whole family will be at dinner. Ellie always hated it when I wore it out to dinner.”
“Then that’s even more reason to wear it,” I tell him.
“Are you sure? You don’t mind?” he asks, his amber eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them when he turns to look at me.
“Why would I mind? The MC is a part of who you are. I’ve always known that. Wear it,” I encourage him. Everything I said is true, not to mention he looks damn good in it.
“Okay, I’ll wear it,” he says with a grin before he slips his arms through the black leather cut and walks out of the room.
After he leaves, I flop back on the bed for a moment to bathe in the happy pheromones a few more seconds before Nash and I have to go face the past…and my parents.
Chapter Twenty
Nash
* * *
As I pace quietly on the carpet in the hallway outside our hotel room, I try to figure out what the hell I was thinking.
This weekend with Lucy, I was supposed to keep my hands to myself and my needs in check.
But seeing how sexy she looked in that red dress, I couldn’t take it another second.
At least I didn’t fuck her, even though I wanted to.
God, I wanted to thrust inside of her tight, dripping wet pussy more than anything, but I settled for just tasting her while getting myself off.
Her sweetness is still right there on my lips, and her scent is still lingering in my facial hair. I’ll be damned if I wash it away any time soon.
I came so fucking hard in her panties that it’s a wonder I didn’t lose the ability to walk. Now that I’m no longer thinking with my dick, I’ll be able to handle the rest of the night, seeing my ex-wife all lovey-dovey with her soon-to-be husband and baby daddy.
Now that I’ve had time to adjust to everything, I’m just glad we never had kids together, or she probably would’ve up and left them with me to take care of on my own.
It’s really not fair that Ellie gets to have kids, but Lucy can’t. Between the two of them, I know Lucy would make a caring, loving mother, while Ellie will use her baby as an accessory, flaunting it when and where it suits her social life.
If anything, at least this weekend has not only provided me with much needed closure, but it’s nice to remember all the shit I hated about Ellie. Somehow, in my messed up, abandoned mind, I had forgotten how superficial she’s always been. Why did I ever think I loved her?
After several minutes, Lucy finally comes out of the room looking mostly put back together, even though her hair is still a little tousled from our unexpected romp.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Yep,” she answers before she starts toward the elevator, weaving a little like a drunk because of her recent orgasms, the one she gave herself and then the one I’m responsible for.
She’s unusually quiet when we’re alone on the elevator ride to the main floor, and I’m not sure if it’s because she feels awkward after what we just did or if she’s dreading what’s to come. Maybe both.
“You sure you want to go to this dinner?” I ask. “Aren’t we already late?”
“Only by about five minutes,” she answers, biting back her smile.
“Just five minutes? Huh. Good thing you’ve got that hair-trigger pussy,” I joke as I watch the numbers change on top of the elevator panel as we go down.
From the corner of my eye, I see Lucy’s tongue wet her lips before she responds. “You and your hair-trigger cock went off pretty fast too,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Yeah, it did,” I agree with a grin just as the elevator doors open.
As Lucy mentioned, we make it to the dining room only a few minutes late. Surprisingly, the rest of the wedding party, mostly older relatives with a few same aged friends, don’t even bat an eye when we take a seat in front of her name card. There are several other empty seats, stragglers who haven’t arrived yet, so I simply slide the card next to hers with an unknown man’s name over to the chair next to the one I fold myself into. Sure, it will probably cause problems for whoever is the last to arrive, but I don’t give a fuck.
“So far so good,” Lucy whispers under her breath.
“Glad you two could finally join us,” Lucy’s mom says from several seats down where she’s sitting next to Lucy’s dad.
“Sorry, Mrs. Stafford. That was my fault,” I tell her. Her lips purse in disapproval of me, us, our tardiness, possibly all of the above, but she doesn’t say anything else.
The servers bring out appetizers of shrimp cocktail right away, followed by one delicious course after another.
Everyone is quietly talking to the neighbors beside them when the middle-aged woman across from us with a similar face and shape as Barry asks Lucy, “How is your recovery going, sweetheart?”
“It’s fine. I’m great. Never better,” Lucy responds in a rush before picking up and sipping on her glass of water, like she doesn’t want to talk about the c-word in front of me.