Page 57 of Salvation

“That’s a good girl.” He takes the honey dipper from where it’s discarded on the counter, rolling it around in the pot full of dense, dark syrup. Once he’s satisfied with the amount he’s collected, he pulls it up, the texture viscous and slowly dripping back into the pot.

“W-what are you doing?" I moan, tipping my head back. He doesn’t give me a response, just brings it up to swirl it around my nipples until they’re hardening painfully and I’m a panting mess, begging for more. He trails it down my stomach, honey sticking to my skin, until he’s circling my clit with it. I gasp at the odd sensation, and he uses my surprise as an opportunity to plunge it in. Not deep, but just enough to coax a moan from me. The ridges of the stick and the thickness of the honey are unlike anything I’ve felt before, and I’m crying out his name in pure bliss.

It’s erotic. Sowrong.Something you’d probably only read about in a dirty book or see on a porn site. But it’s also so fuckingintoxicatingthat I never want it to end. He drops to his knees, still moving the honey stick in and out at a tantalizingly slow pace.

“Spread your legs, baby, that’s it…wider."A growl breaks from his throat as I comply, and then he’s quickly pulling the stick away before replacing it with his tongue in one swift motion. But he’s not done with it just yet. He brings it up, looking at me from beneath thick lashes. The honey coating it almost completely gone, and he presses it against my parted lips before sliding it against my tongue. “Clean up your mess, Blake.”

A whimper escapes my mouth as I grind back against his face and lick the stick clean. The familiar tang of honey mixedwith my own arousal floods my taste buds. His head dips back, and he moans. “So fucking sweet.” He murmurs against my mound, sending shivers down my spine. And then he’s licking and sucking, nipping and biting, and it doesn’t take long before him and his filthy words to cause an orgasm to crash into me in waves, making me dizzy and breathless. He pulls away, his lips glistening, mixed with my juices and the honey. The sight is likely to be forever engraved in my mind. I’m still coming down from my high, not even realizing he moved until he returns with a warm, wet washcloth. He drops a kiss to my inner thigh after wiping me off and helps fix my clothing before taking my hand and helping me down from the counter.

The sweet gestures make my face heat for an entirely different reason this time.

Curiosity gets the best of me, and I glance down at his jeans. The painfully large indent in the fabric tells me all that I need to know. But he sees the intent in my eyes before I can even reach for his belt. He shakes his head. “Why not?” I give him a pout. “I want to return the favor.”

He only smirks and dips his head, breath fanning over my face. “It wasn’t a favor, Blake. It wasn’t even for you. That one was for me.”

I narrow my eyes at him and pull away before I ask him to fuck me on the counter next. “Fine,” I grumble. “I need to get dressed for the festival, anyways.”

I turn to go towards my bedroom but hear a shuffle behind me. I whip around and see Wesley with his hands stuffed in his pockets and an oddly innocent-looking expression on his face. “Did you just stuff another one of those in your mouth?”

He shakes his head, then puffs his cheeks out. He mutters a muffled “No.”

I roll my eyes, turning back in my original direction. “You’re such a boy sometimes.”

Chapter 60

Blake

I’ve just finished stringing up a sign above the coffee bar when I catch the tail end of Wyatt and Whitney’s standoff. He dropped off lunch for us, and they’ve been bickering for the past half hour about God knows what. I just began listening in when his voice turned frustrated, and a tad louder than I’d ever heard. For someone so well-reserved, Whitney sure does get under his skin. I can’t tell if they’re about to start brawling…or make out?

“I think I, of all people, deserve to know-"

He’s cut off when Ana pops up behind him, smacking him right upside the back of the head.“I know I didn’t raise you to talk to a woman like that!”

“Mom!” Wyatt’s hand flies to the back of his head, face lighting up. Despite whatever they may have been arguing about, and the fact that she’s hysterically giggling into her hand, Whitney doesn’t hesitate to come to his rescue with a teasing jab. “He’s awfully broody, isn’t he?”

“You thinkthat’sbad?” Ana scoffs. “You should’ve seen his dad after a long day.”

“I’m right here.” Wyatt grumbles, but they ignore him.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” She places a hand on top of Ana’s.

The way Ana smiles at her…it has me blinking in surprise. I know that look all too well. She gives her a meek smile, letting her eyes drop to Whitney’s belly. “When are you due?”

“April.” Whitney replies.

She reaches up, unclasping the chain dangling around her neck, the very one that holds her wedding band, and nods toward Whitney’s bump. “Do you mind?”

At Whitney’s confusion, Wyatt scratches the back of his head. “It’s an old wives' tale. If the ring moves in circles, it’s a girl. If it swings back and forth, it’s a boy.”

His mom nods along eagerly. “Worked on both of my pregnancies.”

Whitney holds Wyatt’s gaze for a moment longer than considered normal, then concedes with a nod. We watch as Ana holds the wedding ring over her belly. At first, it looks like it may just swing vertically, but then it slowly morphs into a circle and stays swinging. “That means it’s a girl?” Whitney questions, biting her lip nervously.

Ana nods, beaming. Tears and what looks to be a little bit of hope fills Whitney’s eyes. Maybe at the idea of repairing what she didn’t have the gift of growing up. At getting a chance of being a loving, and present mom to a little girl, when she so desperately deserved one herself.

I jump as Wyatt abruptly stands from his seat and leaves without another word, swinging the door open rather aggressively and bidding none of us goodbye.

Ana sighs at her son’s rude departure, and I intervene with an exaggerated groan, hoping to break some of the tensionand heighten Whitney’s spirits. “Dear god, I hope so. I already started buying pink outfits and bows.”

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