Page 47 of Sideline Play

His touch alone is enough to ratchet me up another level. The moan that the feel of his finger draws out of me is long and husky. But when he circles his finger around to spread my wetness and begins to push, I lose it. I use what little movement his hold grants me to bare down, hearing his short grunt as he buries his face in my neck, peppering me with sweet kisses. Yet another tick added to my flooded senses.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to have all of you, Scar. I promise, I’m going to lo–” the rest of what Remi says is lost to my scream as his finger goes inside me and I shatter.

My vision dances with spots. My breath comes in short pants of his name and unintelligible sounds of gratitude. My tears flow even more freely as the tension slowly seeps from my muscles. My body clenches around that single finger as he pumps it in, out, and in again, each time giving me more. I’m shaking as my pussy convulses and I squirt, soaking the sheets beneath me,making him swear with reverence as he watches it all happen in the mirror. And still, he fucks my ass with that single finger while keeping the bullet against me, drawing the longest orgasm of my life out into repeatedly crashing waves, only beginning to work me down once my thighs start to fight him in a bid to close against the growing sensitivity.

Once I’m calm and in a languid heap, laying against him and floating through a warm, airy space in my head, Remington releases my legs and pulls my arms free from around his neck. Untying my hands, he lets the silk ribbon flutter to the floor and kisses my cheek before getting up. Distantly I hear the water running, but a moment later he’s back, his hands smelling of the apple vanilla soap I put in the bathroom yesterday. Before I can say anything, a cool towel is caressed up each of my thighs before coming to rest between my legs.

“Come here, baby,” he gently coos, scooping me up in his arms as he settles back against the headboard. A second hand towel is lovingly wiped along my hairline, my cheeks, and my neck, all the while with Remington softly praising, “You did so good. I’m so proud of you. You’re absolutely perfect, baby girl.”

Hardly able to do more than mumble and lazily kiss the air in his direction as my eyes grow heavy, he coaxes, “Have some water for me first, Scar,” bringing the tumbler I brought to bed last night to my lips. “Good girl.” Kissing the top of my head and bringing the sheet and duvet over my body to banish the chill I’m only just beginning to register, he hums, “Sleep, baby girl. I’ve got you.” His arms wrap around me as I curl up on my side, covered and protected by the man I think I’m in love with.

TWENTY-ONE

SCARLET

It’s the insistent vibration,followed by Remington muttering, “Shit,” as he fumbles with stuff on the nightstand that has me waking up, my muscles deliciously sore and cheeks already blushing as I recall what we got up to this morning. Rolling over so I’m on my stomach and slithering down to pillow my head in his lap, I hug my arms around his hips and sleepily greet, “Good morning.”

Petting my hair as he gazes down at me, his eyes too alert to have just woken up himself, he asks, “How’d you sleep?”

“Mmm… so good,” I blissfully sigh, nuzzling his lower abdomen as another vibration rattles from the nightstand. “Someone’s popular this morning,” I comment, starting to press my lips to his bare skin, wanting a chance to explore him as thoroughly as he’s been learning me.

“Not me, baby girl. You.”

Beginning to sit up and hooking my fingers inside his waistband to free his partially erect dick, the sheet pooling around my nude body, he stops me cold by saying, “It’s your dad.” Followed by, “And Roman wanting to know if I’m behaving myself—which we both know after this morning, Imost definitely am not. Then again, neither are you, my sweetly depraved girl.”

Letting him go with a pout, I agree, “No we most definitely are not,” before reaching for my phone.

Kissing the crown of my head as he gets out of bed, he says, “I think he’s missing you. Both of ‘em. I’m gonna go shower. Invite ‘em out here. We can go pick out furniture and decorate the rooms downstairs this afternoon. Or if you’d rather, we can go to Nashville.”

Holding my phone as it buzzes with another text, I stare after him and ask, “You’d want them here?”

“Baby, they’re your family. Where else would I want them besides in our home?”

“Our home?”

Stalking back to the bed, he rests a knee on the mattress and begins to cage me in, crowding my space until I begin to lay out for him. Once I’m on my back, looking up at him as he hovers over me, he says, “Scar, the stuff I’m doing with you… I haven’t allowed myself to be that way with anyone—ever. You and me, it’s Game 7 of the World Series, extra innings epic. So yeah,ourhouse.” Pressing a firm kiss to my lips, he stands back up and heads for the bathroom calling out, “But while they’re here, let’s put a pin in calling me Daddy. Unless of course you want me to out your kinky little butt over dinner when you say, ‘Daddy, will you pass the mashed potatoes?’”

“I hate you!”

“No, you don’t. You love me and you know it.”

“Yeah, I think I do,” I whisper, opening my phone as it buzzes with more messages from Roman demanding I answer and my dad being as subtle as a fastball to the face over missing having us both under one roof.

The Home Team

Today 11:12 AM

Daddy

I know we just talked yesterday, but how’s it going, Princess?

Do you need anything? I can transfer money if you do. Or you can use the AmEx. Don’t go without just because you don’t want to ask for money

Your car has at least half a tank right? Your oil’s good? The service notifications aren’t going off? What about your tire pressure? You know the air will shrink now that it’s getting cold

Winnie still stocked on her food? I can send a delivery for you. What about her treats and toys?

Ro-Boat

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