Did she take pointers from Kennedy and Stone that I don’t know about?
“I asked you a question, Easton. Why do you feel like you’re drowning?”
“Because I don’t know how to act around you!” I blurt out, surprising myself and her all in one go.
“Act like yourself.”
“Oh yeah? Like you do with me? What version of you is the real one?”
“I don’t have versions, Easton. I’m just… me.”
“That’s a fucking lie if I ever heard one.” I scoff. “At school, you’re a scared little mouse, always hiding, and then at the club, you’re this force of nature. I can’t keep up.”
“No one asked you to!” she snaps, getting up from the table.
Before she can get away from me, I snatch her arm and pull her to sit on my lap. She punches at my chest to let her go, but I’m not having it. I find the crook of her neck and inhale her spring-flower scent into my lungs, instantly soothing my erratic state. As I keep my hold on her, Scarlett begins to relax in my arms, her breathing becoming ragged with the intimacy of it all.
“Why do you do this?”
“Jealousy. I want the real you all to myself,” I hush out truthfully before placing a tender kiss on her neck.
“You’d hate the real me.”
“Impossible.”
“It’s true. I’m a coward, East. While you’re this magnetic force that fears nothing.”
“That’s not true.”
You terrify me, Scar.
I grasp her jaw and trace my finger over her lower lip. She lets out a gentle sigh, opening her plump mouth in the process, eager for my caress. Her lids go half-mast, staring down into my eyes. She wants me to kiss her, but I can’t. She’s asking for too much. Kissing Scarlett feels like I’m giving her more than what I’m ready to part with. She already carved her way inside my heart. I can’t let her into my soul, too. If I do, she’ll see how unworthy I am to even touch her, much less love her.
“Was that last song for me?” I ask softly, trying to move off-topic, my thumb now traveling up and down her neck.
She nods with that same sparkle in her eye that pierces right through me.
“Did you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Sing for me, Scar.”
“What?” She laughs out nervously.
“You heard me. I want you to sing for me.”
“What do you want to hear?”
“Anything. I just want to hear your voice.”
I press a kiss on her shoulder, encouraging her to be brave. She takes a beat, and I watch, fascinated at how she hears the melody in her head before she’s even begun to sing the first verse.
Just like her, the song she chooses has a melancholic beauty to it. Her velvet sultry voice sings a tale about a blackbird biding its time, impatiently waiting for this precise moment to arrive. I keep her close with my lids shut as I let her voice engulf me in the warm, loving cocoon of her own making. I imagine that I’m the black bird she so fondly sings about and that she will welcome me with open arms the instance I take flight. Scarlett runs her fingers through my hair, sending shivers down my spine as I lay my head on her chest. Her heartbeat is just as smooth as her melodic voice.
After singing the last verse, I can still feel her words lingering in the air, trapping me to this moment. I look up, wishing I could bottle the emotion dancing in her eyes, and lock it away where no one can hurt it. The unspoken sentiment electrifies the air between us, making my cock painfully swell in my jeans.
“What do you want now?” she stutters, batting her lashes under her framed glasses.
“Something sweeter than those pancakes.”
“I don’t think you’ll find anything in this kitchen that can top my pancakes.”
“Wanna bet?”
I shove the plates away, one of them falling to the ground, and pick her up by the waist to sit her on the table. I trail my hands up her thighs, licking my lips, imagining her skin breaking out in goosebumps with my touch. Her eyes widen as my hand reaches the waistband of her sweats.
“These have got to go,” I order.
Scarlett nervously grabs the hem of her sweatshirt, keeping it in place as I pull off her pants and throw them on the floor. She’s wearing shimmering panties, her perky breasts already at attention through the heavy fabric of her Richfield University shirt. Leisurely, without breaking eye contact with her, I pull her panties down her legs and add them to the pile on the floor. Half naked, she sits there waiting for me, her breath stilled and anxious for my next move.
I kiss the hollow of her throat while my hands trail south. When I reach the small, triangle-shaped patch of hair on her mound, I lightly trace a finger down the slick seam of her lips as I nibble on her neck. I sink my teeth in, and the softness of her moan goes right to my cock. She holds on tight to the edge of the table to keep her steady as her head falls back, giving me more room to play. Her luscious brown hair breaks free from its confined bun, silky chocolate waves cascading down her back.
“So fucking beautiful,” I mumble as I go to my haunches.
Impatient as ever for having Scar like this, open and willing, my tongue laps furiously at her center. She lets out another cry, making it the most beautiful ballad she could ever sing to me. I eat her out as she pulls at my hair for balance. I grab the heels of her feet and place them on the edge of the table, widening her legs to have a good look at her pussy. Soft pink lips greet me, begging me to continue to devour them. I gently run my nose up and down her core to smell her essence, just before my tongue goes back to its previous assault. Every loud wail that leaves her fuels me on. I press the pad of my tongue to her swollen clit and begin to fuck her with my fingers. When her core tightens around my two digits, I know she’s close and ready to step over the edge. I continue to toy with her hidden nub until the table below us begins to quiver, almost failing to withstand the orgasm that erupts out of her.
After she cums, I wipe my mouth on my forearm and pick her up from the table to place her feet back on solid ground.
But not for long.
“On your knees, Scar.”
I love her fight, but watching her obediently fall to her knees is something that I will remember even when I’m on my deathbed. She unzips my jeans, forgoing untying my belt buckle, too eager to have her own taste. She pulls me out, my weeping cock hungry for her mouth. She keeps her eyes on mine, as the tip of her tongue plays with the crown of my head.
Since I was a teenager, I’ve imagined this moment a million fucking times. Scar on her bare knees, looking up at me with a desire to devour my cock under her dark-framed glasses. I fist my hands to the side, hoping I don’t cum the moment she wraps her plump lips around my cock.
When she takes me in, my eyelids feel heavy as I continue to be transfixed with this glorious scene before me. I let her take the lead, as she discovers my hard length with her tongue, hollowing her cheeks as she goes. My restraint snaps when she begins to hum around me, my fingers finding themselves on her scalp, pushing her mouth to take every last inch of me in. She lets me fuck her mouth without inhibition, and too soon do I want to burst.