Page 59 of Haunted Hearts
I press my thumb against her clit, shove my dick in as deep as it’ll go, and let myself explode into her with a roar. As I come, I’m feelinghercome. Feeling the way the walls of her pussy squeeze my cock as they spasm with pleasure. The way her nails dig into my back as she moans into my ear and I fill her up.
We stay like that for a moment, each feeling the other breathe. I keep thinking of the way Lydia glared at me that day in Brewed Awakening, like it was my fault she’d just spilled her coffee all over me. I’m also remembering how she shot daggersat me with her look alone that first day in Nancy’s office. And it makes me chuckle, thinking about how we got from that tothis.
Her in my arms. My cum inside her. As close as two people can be. And somehow, I know that after tonight our souls are even closer. All kinds of veils are being pulled back tonight.
“I love you.”
Lydia’s gazing up at me from the bed of the truck, and when she speaks I gather my thoughts back in and study her face. I can see the full moon reflected in her big, dark eyes. It’s the first time she’s told me that, and I want to remember every detail about this moment.
I brush the hair out of her eyes and kiss her forehead. “I love you too, beautiful.”
Then, sliding myself out from between her legs, I flop over onto my back and lie next to her, guiding her head onto my chest.
We lie like that for a long time, me stroking her hair and her tracing delicate fingertips across my stomach. It’s only when the very first streaks of purple begin to lighten the eastern sky that we pull on our clothes and hop back in the truck, holding hands across the console as we take off for home.
We spend the last two precious hours before our six thirty alarm goes off nestled together in Lydia’s bed. As I snuggle into her, wrapping my arms around her tiny frame, I drift off to sleep, realizing that I don’t think I’ll ever let this woman sleep alone again.
thirty-one
LYDIA
Will: Looking good over there behind that desk, beautiful.
Lydia: Aren’t you supposed to be working?
Will: I am working. It’s a full time job trying to keep my eyes off you.
Lydia: Good god. We’ve got a long several months ahead of us.
Will: Not the only thing that’s long.
Lydia: Gross.
Will: Not what you said last night.
Will: Okay. Sorry. I’ll be good. Wanna go get coffee?
“You better watch where you’re going with that this time.”
Will nudges me playfully in the ribs as he juts his chin at my to-go cup. I roll my eyes at him and tear open a packet of sugar. “Trust me. It’s not in my best interest to burn your junk, Will.”
He whistles. When he gives my ass a squeeze, my head whips fiercely around to make sure no one saw it.
“Donot,” I hiss, flicking a hand at him, barely smothering my laughter. I may be a prude, but he knows I’m enjoying his attention. In fact, I’ve been basking in it the whole freaking week.
We’ve been at the library since early this morning, getting everything ready for the ground breaking. Since the construction of the new computer lab is first on the agenda, the main part of the library will remain open, but over the past week we’ve had to shift things around to keep visitors away from the work zone. I’m not looking forward to having the noise of construction constantly in the background while I’m working, but at least I’m making peace with the project.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t draw a deep, shaky breath when we got here and I saw the tarps the construction team put up. It really hit me… The building I loved so much, that provided so many sacred hours for me when I needed it most, will never be the same. It’s the end of an era, and endings are always hard.
But now I know. I don’t need a building to stay connected to Mom. This morning I hopped down from Will’s pickup and strode toward the library, clutching my Nancy Drew book under my arm and knowing my mom’s still with me, building or no building. I’ve got our book, I’ve got her letter, and I’ve got the happiness that comes from knowing she’s been looking out for me all this time. And still is.
My encounter with Mom even gave me the courage to call my dad. We’ve still got years’ worth of stuff to work throughtogether, and that’s going to take time and effort. But I told him I want to meet Shelley, and he told me he’s been sober for one hundred days now. It’s not a happy ending for Dad and me yet, but it’s a start. A baby step in the right direction.
I know Mom will be happy, and that makes me happy.
As Will followed me up the library sidewalk this morning, I could tell he was nervous. Like he was holding his breath or something, waiting to see if this past week we spent together would still hold this morning. Or if I’d break down, or turn around and pound his chest with my fists. I could tell when he came to stand by me on the front stairs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, that he still blames himself. And even though it may take time, I’ll do whatever I can to help dispel that guilt.
Because Will gave me more than a building. He gave me Mom—for one last time.
