Morning Glory - A Novelette

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by S. L. Scott


  His shirt comes off, then his jeans before he hovers over me, keeping our bodies apart. I run my finger under the waistband of his black boxer briefs, appreciating every sit-up and push-up he’s done to mold his body into the art it is.

  I’m the opposite. I’m lean, but soft with curves.

  “You’re so damn sexy, Hayley. This might not be slow.”

  I squeeze my thighs together, feeling the way my body is reacting to him and his seductive words. Indulging in the feel of his muscles and strength, I encourage him. “Come down here.”

  His arousal is prominent. Stroking over his large bulge twice, he says, “I can’t believe you’re real right now.”

  “I’m here and I’m real and sometimes I get lonely.”

  “You’ll never be lonely again.” He strips his briefs down, exposing himself to me. I’ve never seen him fully naked before, and he’s a sight to behold—all hard lines and muscular dips with that sexy V that leads the eyes straight to his large erection. His erection. I sigh, unable to stop myself from staring. I want to touch him, taste him, and feel him deep inside of me.

  I wrap my hand around him. Nick remains steady as he watches me grip and flex my hold on him. He closes his eyes and relaxes on top of me. His knees on either side of my hips trap me as he takes hold of my wrist and places it above my head. He uses his tongue to explore my collarbone and his breath against my wet skin makes it goose bump.

  He releases my hand and glides his across my stomach to my most private place. He’s no longer tentative, but wanting and demanding. His fingers slip down farther causing my back to arch up and my eyes to close. I moan as he rubs between my legs.

  His mouth covers my breast and his tongue sweeps over my nipple as I hold onto his shoulders. I say, “I want you inside of me.” I know he can hear the plea in my tone.

  Sliding my hands down his rib cage and lower to his hips, I reach around and dip my hand into the muscular indention on the sides of his buttocks. I squeeze his ass while pressing him harder against my center for friction.

  “I need you,” I whisper, followed by a whimper when his fingers slip inside of me for the first time. That’s what this is. It’s a first time, erasing our pasts and starting our future.

  I lift up, needing his lips on mine, but he moves lower and drags his tongue between my breasts and over my belly button where he swirls it around. He slides to the right to gently bite my hipbone, which is punctuated with a playful laugh from me.

  “Baby, your body is incredible,” he says, the words are deep and meaningful, full of lust.

  I want to say something, but my words would be nothing but fillers in the moment we’re sharing. So, I don’t speak and let my breathing, my body’s restlessness, and racing heart speak for me instead.

  He leaves my stomach and kisses his way even lower. His eyes are locked on mine as his mouth reaches my lower lips. His tongue dips between them as his fingers move further down.

  I feel drunk, and I haven’t had any alcohol tonight. I’m drunk on him and how he’s making me feel. His fingers push in as his tongue begins to work a rhythm of torturous pleasure, making me beg for more. My thoughts are blurred into sweet oblivion as my body frenzies under his attention. The sound of my bliss can be heard as he stays down there until I’m quaking in ecstasy beneath him. I call out the name that will be the only one to ever escape my lips again in the throes of passion. “Nick!”

  When I open my eyes, he’s above me. He looks delighted and has an irresistible smile. “That was amazing,” he says. “I fantasized about watching you come. You’re even sexier than I imagined.”

  “Kiss me,” I reply, wanting to feel his weight on top of me again.

  He complies, and the tip of his erection waits at my entrance while he makes small adjustments until we’re comfortable. After a long kiss full of meaning, he looks me in the eyes. I give the minutest of nods, and he pushes in, watching my every reaction as I watch his.

  My eyes begin to close, but he says, “I want to see your eyes.” His voice is deep and husky with yearning.

  I focus on him and take a deep breath while both of us acclimate as our bodies meld together. “I love you.” I say needing to reveal this passion, the sensation of finally feeling him inside of me, engulfing me whole.

  “I’ve loved you forever, and I always will.”

  He kisses me again, starting a slow gyrate with his hips—in and out, up and down, push and pull.

  I spread my legs farther apart, wanting him deeper and deeper. He fills me, my body, my mind, and my soul with his presence and his love. His fervent kisses cover my neck as my nails scrape lightly across his back, not intending to leave marks, but enough to express the ardor I’m feeling for him.

  My hips meet his, thrust for thrust. We let go of ourselves and move on instinct until we’re both erratic. We continue in this sexual tug-of-war until I lose myself once again just as his hands still on my shoulders. With three final thrusts, he reaches his own peak.

  He drops down on top of me, and I wrap my arms around him, caressing him to me. After placing small kisses behind my ear, he whispers through jagged breath, “The only option.”

  “The only. Always.”

  He kisses me slowly, giving me all of his love. “Always.”

  The next morning, I wake up to the smell of pancakes, coffee, and something else, something fresh. There’s a bouquet of purple pansies lying on the bed next to me. The flowers are straight from his garden, and I smile because I know they were always meant for me. Just like Nick.

  I hop out of bed and dash into the kitchen, not caring about morning breath or lack of clothes. I just want to hug him, kiss him, and convince him to return to bed with me so I can show him how much I love him all over again.

  I throw my arms around his waist and startle him as he cooks. While I rest my cheek on his back, he covers my arm with one hand and holds the spatula in his other. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiles and raises his eyebrows. “Good morning, baby.”

  “This is the best morning ever.”

  He tosses the spatula onto the counter and turns to face me; my bare chest is against his bare chest. He slides his arms around my waist and his fingers apply a gentle, loving pressure on me, keeping me close. “Do you remember the first thing I ever said to you back in college?”

  I lean my neck back to see his face. “No. I just remember we were friends from day one.”

  “We were sitting next to each other in the auditorium. I don’t think I ever told you that I paid some guy ten bucks for the seat next to you.”

  I giggle, but I’m too anxious to say anything because I want to hear more.

  “I whispered in your ear like this.” He leans down. “You’re hot. You want to go out tonight?”

  I burst out laughing because I was expecting to hear something sweet and sentimental, not a bad pickup line. I’d forgotten all about that.

  He’s laughing and I’m sure it’s over the embarrassment of his youthful arrogance. “After all of these years, I’ve realized that was where I went wrong. Even back then I thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, and it was very intimidating.”

  “Are you still intimidated?”

  “Yep, but I’m older, and I know better than to use awful pickup lines on you now.”

  I stare into his eyes, holding onto his shoulders to ground me to earth as my heart soars.

  He says, “I also know that you drink hot chocolate when you can’t sleep and eat peanut butter M & M’s when you’re stressed. And when you’re worried about someone you love, you wear that gold necklace with the little bluebird on it that you got when you were seven.”

  I lean my forehead against his chest, and he holds me tighter. “Why are you talking about the past?” I’m starting to choke on my words, a poor attempt to keep myself from crying.

  “Because I also know that you would have never married any of your exes. Not because you’re scared to commit, but deep down you’ve always kno
wn we were meant to be together just like I knew that first day. I’m finally where I’ve always wanted to be, and instead of paying ten bucks, I’ve paid seven years to be next to the hot girl. I have one question, and it’s not a marriage proposal, though I’ve thought about that a few times this morning already.” I laugh and he says, “You’re hot. You want to go out tonight?”

  I want to be with him, but I don’t want to go out. “No, I want to stay in, preferably for the rest of the weekend. Oh, and no marriage proposal?”

  “Not yet.”

  I’m not disappointed. “I can live with ‘not yet.’ ”

  He cups my face and kisses me sweetly. Leaning back to look me in the eyes, he says, “Hayley Harper, I’m madly in love with you, and I want you to know that I also count the seconds we’re apart. You should prepare yourself now, because one day, I will propose to you and make you my wife.”

  I love that romantic notion. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  I lift up, he leans down, and we meet in the middle, sealing that promise with a kiss.

  THE END

  Also Available by S.L. Scott

  S.L. Scott’s debut novel Naturally, Charlie is available on November 1, 2012.

  Twenty-five year old Charlotte “Charlie” Barrow is caught between her old life and the one she is beginning to build when she crosses paths with a handsome stranger on the subway. Not looking for romance, she closes her heart off to the possibilities of love. With a knack for mishaps, Charlie maintains her sense of humor while befriending the kind stranger who seems to be there at all the right times.

  New York freelance writer, Charlie Adams, is forging his own path beyond the expectations of the society circles of his childhood. Rejecting family money, and fast-lane friends, he is snubbed by his family as he follows his own compass to a life more extraordinary.

  Charlie walks close, so close, and drops his arms forward on either side of me. He’s trapped me between them, and although I shouldn’t want this with a friend, I do with him. I want it more than I should. I love being this close to him, but instead of giving in, I hold my own, standing my ground. His head moves even closer to mine, but he purposely keeps our bodies apart.

  “I bet I can.”

  I stare into his blue eyes. My heart is pounding in my chest as his breath hits my face. I often find myself reacting to him in ways that I wouldn’t normally to others. Maybe it’s because I like these games we play, the ones that involve our heads and our hearts.

  “I dare you.”

  This is the tale of two Charlies learning to trust again while fighting their fates to create their own destiny.

  Published by The Writer’s Coffee Shop

  About the Author

  S.L. Scott is a former high-tech account manager with a journalism degree pursuing her passion for telling stories. She spends her days escaping into her characters and letting them lead her on their adventures.

  Live music shows, harvesting jalapenos and eating homemade guacamole are her obsessions she calls hobbies.

  Scott lives in the beautiful Texas Hill Country of Austin with her husband, two young sons, two Papillons and a bowl full of Sea Monkeys.

  To learn more about this author and her writing,

  please visit www.slscottauthor.com

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  A Personal Message

  Morning Glory

  Excerpt from - Naturally, Charlie

  About the Author

 

 

 


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