Page 70 of Beyond the Spotlight Discreet Version
I can’t get enough of her. I never want to stop touching her. But she needs aftercare and from what she’s told me about that loser ex of hers, he never provided it.
“I’m going to take the plug out of you then clean you up, okay?”
She hums again, sounding sleepy. Her eyes are closed, and I’m certain she’s about to fall asleep.
I toss the condom into the rubbish and return with a cloth. Her legs are wide open for me, tempting me to take her again. She smirks, knowing it’s crossed my mind.
My lips trace along her inner calf, up past her knee, then along her thick thighs that have adorable dimples. She holds her breath when I run my finger up and down her slit. I’m distracting her so I can remove the toy. She gasps when I pull it out.
She watches me with awe as I take care of her, wiping away her pleasure. When I finish and throw the cloth in the laundry, I return to her side and pull her against me.
“This is nice,” she whispers, sounding surprised.
“Are you tired?”
“No, just… satisfied.” She lifts her head and smiles. “I want ice cream.”
“It’s not breakfast, though. I thought ice cream was only for breakfast.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, let’s make waffles for dessert.”
“With peanut butter, bananas, and maple syrup?”
“And lots of whipped cream.”
Chapter 16 - Savannah
Wafflesgotmessy.Reynoldintentionally splattered the batter all over my face and hair. Then he added a whipped cream crown. He covered my mouth with the sweet topping and kissed it clean.
Our first batch burned because he laid me on top of the counter to eat me out. The second batch also burned because I demanded to blow him as a reward for giving me multiple orgasms tonight.
Finally, after nearly an hour, we have the perfect set of waffles topped with peanut butter, bananas, and drowned in maple syrup. Our favorite combination.
We eat in silence, savoring the breakfast-inspired dessert. Once our plates are clean, he leans back and rubs his flat tummy. I rest my chin on my palm and watch him. He blows out a breath of satisfaction.
He’s so dang adorable.
He’s got a bit of whipped cream on the corner of his mouth. I reach out my thumb and wipe it away. As I pull my hand back, Reynold takes my wrist and licks the cream off the tip before I can.
“Tell me about your parents,” I say, trying to ignore my stomach cartwheeling at the sexual move. He flinches at my question and releases my wrist. “Sorry, that came out of nowhere. You don’t have to…”
He sighs and that stiffness in his posture loosens, almost as if he’s relieved. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just… I haven’t talked to anyone about them in a very long time. Not since Annalee was alive.”
I take his hand and thread my fingers with his.
“They were wonderful parents.”
His voice is quiet and full of anguish as he pauses to gather his thoughts. Or maybe to rein in his emotions.
“I always knew I wanted to be an actor. I grew up memorizing lines from my favorite TV shows or movies, then I’d act them out for my parents and Annalee in the living room after dinner. All of them were so supportive. Mum took me to my first audition when I was twelve. I got the job. It was for a commercial, and I was only in it for maybe ten seconds, but we celebrated as if it was a lead role. We celebrated anytime I landed a role, big or small, either by going out to dinner or cooking a meal together as a family. One time, when I was thirteen and cast a major film, my biggest role to date, I came home to my dad and sister wearing party hats and blowing noisemakers. They decorated the living room with streamers and even had a cake for me.”
He smiles fondly at the memory.
“I was making decent money when they died. Mum got the flu, and that turned into pneumonia, which she didn’t survive. They did an autopsy and said her heart failed. Maybe heart problems run in our family. I get mine checked routinely. Adeline’s too, just to be sure.
He stops talking, and I squeeze his hand to remind him I’m here, listening.
“After mum passed, my father sank into a deep depression. My sister had to take care of me. She’d make sure I ate breakfast every morning, then drive me to school or to auditions. He got better after a couple of months. He’d at least join Annalee and me for dinner and wasn’t holing himself up in his room as much. But he must not have been sleeping well because one night—he worked late nights—he was driving home and dozed off. His car veered off the road and he hit a tree. His head hit hard enough to kill him instantly.”
