This was the voice she heard in her head when she touched herself, thinking of him.
“Bet-tween my legs.” She barely got the words out, her hand already drifting down her stomach. “I want you to touch me between my legs.”
“I know how you like it too, rough little strokes of my thumb, while my tongue plays with your pretty nipples. But my hand wouldn’t be enough would it, Lucy?” His voice was nothing more than a rasp of grit against the quiet air around them.
Lucy breathed out a quiet “no” before she could even think through what was happening. If there was a problem with them going from heartfelt confessions to erotic sex talk, she couldn’t drum up any remorse.
“You’d want my mouth too; you’d need it so badly you’d beg for it. Do you remember how you used to beg me for it?”
Lucy moaned into the silence of her room.
“I’d lick my way down your chest first, savoring the taste. You taste so fucking good. And it’s been a long time since I’ve tasted you. So, I’d take my time, making sure to stop at your hips and belly button to dip my tongue into the hollow. I’d use one finger to test how wet you were, check in and ask if you really wanted me to keep going.”
“I would, I do.” Her fingers brushed her core. “God, I’m so wet, Joel.” Her head thunked back against the wall, her eyes closing as she imagined his head moving lower between her legs. In reality, her hand clenched spasmodically against his.
“You know how I like to draw it out though, how I’d make it last. I’d sink my fingers in slowly and start with a stroke, they’d dip and press just how you like it. My fingers a little rough and deep. I remember—” His breathing turned ragged, cutting his words. “How you’d scream for me when I dipped two in and twist them up toward your belly.”
Her fingers mimicked his words, like he was giving herinstructions, and she moaned as she let her legs fall open. Her robe slipped off her shoulder and the cool air rushed over her skin.
“Fuck, are you doing it, Lucy? Are you touching yourself the way I touch you?”
“Yes!” she sobbed. “I want your mouth on me, Joel. I need more.” Through the roaring of her blood rushing in her ears, she heard him curse loudly, then the scratching sound of a zipper being pulled down roughly.
His hand slammed down over hers, pressing it to the floor with weight. Was he undressing? She had no idea. The blindness drove her wild with lust.
“My mouth is right there, sweetheart. I’ve been starving for you.” His voice was hoarse, desperate.
And then, Lucy stopped thinking because her thumb found her clit. She cried out loudly, the promise of relief so sharp and palpable it scorched her.
“Oh God, oh Joel!” she whined. “I’d need to feel you. Please, please.”
“I’m with you, baby. I’m right fucking here with you. Like every other time.”
And with those words she did fall, her hand twisting to find his, gripping so tightly she was sure it had to hurt, but it matched the intensity of the exquisite relief that consumed her. White hot flashes shot behind her closed eyes like fireworks, pleasure exploding through her body, making her shake against her hand and the wall.
Joel’s own gruff grunts of relief filled the air, and she knew he’d come with her. The idea of him spilling himself into his hand or onto his abdomen only prolonging her release.
Eventually her breathing returned to baseline, even ifher heart continued to thunder. Her hand went slack against his as she released her death grip.
“Jesus Christ.” Joel’s voice sounded like he’d been a smoker since the day he was born. “Lucy, I—that’s not?—”
“Shh, don’t ruin it,” she murmured, knowing the wheels of honor and integrity were cranking back into motion in his mind. “That was good. Therapeutic. Satisfying.” She patted his hand placatingly, letting him know there was no reason to think too hard. “We shared feelings and an orgasm. That’s good progress. Don’t ruin it for me by thinking too loud.” She gently pushed his hand to his side of the doorway. “Good night, I’ll see you in the morning.”
He mumbled something incoherent in return, before she shut the door between them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The next day was a flurry of activity. With her mother, aunt, and sister in town, there was no escaping engagement and wedding talk, and for all the awkward silence her sister had given her while she was away filming in Vancouver, she was full in on the wedding planning now. After a day of being dragged to every wedding dress shop in Portland, the four of them met Natalie, Hope, and Ivy at one of the local upscale restaurants for lunch and to finalize details for the engagement party at Bowie’s the next evening.
Lucy avoided making eye contact with Ivy, who glared at her with an unnerving combination of suspicion and distrust. After Joel’s revelations last night, Lucy would be lying if she said she hadn’t been intrigued by what had happened. It was pure curiosity, and one hundred percent not her business. Joel didn’t have to tell her any of it, but she was grateful he had, because she now understood why it’d taken him so long to get home while her world was imploding. What would Hope and Ivy think if they knew Joel had told her what had happened to them?
“Are we sure having an engagement party at a bar isn’ttacky?” Maria asked the group, cutting into Lucy’s thoughts. At least Maria had the grace to cast Hope an apologetic glance. “No offence,cara, I am sure your husband has a nice bar, but back home we would usually rent a nice hall. Is there an Italian Cultural Center close by? Or maybe one of Joel’s properties. Doesn’t he have a nice one on the coast?”
“Mom, Ivy and Hope have already organized everything and booked Bowie’s,” Vanessa chided. “I’ve been to the bar. Trust me, it’s nice. Classy. Plus, the media will be there. I’ve invited influencers. It’ll put Bowie’s on the map. ”
Maria sniffed. “Is it an engagement party or a Hollywood affair, Vanessa? Why do we need the people from the media ? This isn’t one of your red carpet events or a trashy party. It is your sister’s engagement party!”
“Mom, please.” Vanessa rolled her eyes, then glanced at Lucy and mouthed the wordsee?
