I do as I’m told, lying back on her silky bedding until my head is nestled against her pillow. I turn to the side, overwhelmed by the sweet, summery scent of her. It’s all too easy to imagineher lying here, thinking about our kiss, watching it back in slow motion.
But once again, my imagination has nothing on the real thing. In my head, Shay is a hazy glow. In reality, kneeling between my thighs, licking her lips as she stares down at my naked body, she’s blinding.
“Will you tell me if it’s not good?” she asks, like there’s any possibility here that I’m not going to explode the second she puts her mouth on me.
“Shay, sweetheart, I’m about to come just from how you’re looking at me. You have nothing to worry about.”
She chuckles, but I see the tension in the way she has her shoulders set.
“Come here,” I say, beckoning her with my index finger.
Shay leans over me, and I press a gentle kiss to her lips, cupping her face. A soft fall breeze makes her sheer curtains flutter, bathing her in the warm golden hour glow. The air swirls around her, and I swear the scent of her is going to be permanently embedded in my brain after this.
“Of course I’ll tell you, but I promise you don’t need to worry. Everything you do feels amazing.”
“Yeah?” she whispers against my mouth.
“Did you not feel how fucking soaked I am? That’s all because of you, sweetheart. All for you.”
Her eyes widen, and she bites her lip before sitting back so she’s hovering right between my legs. Shay strokes her finger through my center, and I whimper.
“For me, huh?” she asks, bringing her finger to her mouth and sucking it between her lips. She groans, and I can’t help but tighten my legs around her, like I’m drawing her in closer to me.
Shay doesn’t seem to mind; she leans over, parting me and swallowing as she stares down at my pussy.
I think I actually black out for a second at the first pass of her tongue over my clit, and when I come to, my back is arched off the bed, and my legs are on her shoulders. She teases me, her tongue gentle as she flicks the tip against me, then she closes her lips around my clit. I’m already teetering on a tightrope, seconds from flying, when Shay presses one finger inside me. Her hands are small, delicate, and she feels so fucking good inside me when she curls her finger, stroking me until I find myself tightening around her.
My breaths come hard and fast and loud, incoherent mumblings of her name, andpleaseandfucktumbling from me as I tumble off the edge, spiraling into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations. And all it seems to do is boost Shay’s confidence as she licks me faster, like she wants this to last as long as possible. I feel her everywhere, spreading fire through my veins as I fall to pieces for her.
And when I taste myself on her tongue when she kisses me after a moment, when I listen to her humming ABBA as she does her skincare an hour later, when I watch her fall asleep, a peaceful smile on her face, and all I can think about is how I’d like to slot her into every aspect of my life…
Yeah, my imagination didn’t prepare me for this at all. I’m so fucked.
18
SHAY
Noelle is gone when I wake up the next morning. Six a.m., and the side of the bed she slept in is stone cold. I know she slept here—I wake up a lot through the night, and I saw her sleeping soundly, Cat curled up against her back. She’s probably used to waking up early for work, but I can’t pretend it doesn’t feel a little like she snuck out in the dead of night. Without even leaving a note on the pillow. Do people even do that outside of movies?
It’s stupid. This was just a hookup. Casual. A one-time thing… I think. We didn’t talk about it, but she told me she didn’t have time to date before our meeting with the mayor, so I know it’s not more than sex. Shit, my brain is fried.
I feed Cat and scratch between his ears until he’s a happy little ball of fluff and purrs, before stretching and heading into the kitchen to feed myself. I stop dead: there’s a plate covered in aluminum foil, and a note on the counter.
My curiosity gets the better of me, and I take off the foil before opening the note, finding a breakfast sandwich, bursting with what looks like mushrooms and some kind of cheese, clearly handmade. On a Christmas plate. She brought this from home, which means…
She left and brought me back breakfast. What the hell does that mean?
I unfold the note, laughing when I see it’s just cooking instructions. Of course it is.
My coffee machine is prepped, too, a cup sitting beside it and all. She really did think of everything, and I have no idea what to make of it.
I follow Noelle’s instructions to a T, and before long, my apartment smells buttery and garlicky. With my coffee, breakfast sandwich, and Cat on my heels, I sit on the balcony to enjoy it all. The sun is a blur of orange on the horizon, but Wintermore’s main street is bustling. This is always a busy time of day, since a lot of residents leave town early to beat the traffic for their 9-to-5s in Jackson, or make it to the early morning shuttles that run to the nearby mountain resorts. The job market in Wintermore itself is lacking, unless you own or work for a local business.
Since the movie people arrived in town, though, the mornings have been nothing short of chaos. I’m not sure where they’re squeezing all these people into such a small town, but from my perch, I can see no less than thirty crew members milling around, looking down at their phones and clutching coffee cups from The Enchanted Bakery or The Frosty Bean. There’s something oddly relaxing about sitting up here, finishing off Noelle’s breakfast sandwich—delicious, naturally—and looking down at everything happening with nowhere to be.
Truthfully, with the café side ofÉpices et Sucrébeing closed, I’ve gotten ahead on my custom orders, and my workload has dwindled to almost nothing—besides the baking Noelle and I are doing for the movie. I can’t pretend I’m not enjoying the reprieve a little, but mostly I’m enjoying just working with another person again. Sure, I have Gracie around most of the time, but we work in different rooms.
I would offer to help at The Enchanted Workshop if I didn’t think Noelle would find a shallow grave for me somewhere, so I’ve been trying to get ahead on the movie baking as much as I can while things are quiet, to take some of the pressure off.
