Her laugh makes my dick even harder. “I already know I’m good at that, Crey. Trust me. Lots of practice in the one-handed action department.”
I groan at the visual and wrap my hand around my cock. “Okay, baby. You said you already have it inside you?”
“Yeah.”
“How close are you to the edge?”
“Pretty freaking close.”
“I want you to slow down, tease yourself for a minute.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing?”
“Are you getting bossy with me, Holly?”
“Maybe. I really want to come.” Her tone takes on just the whisper of a whine, her desperation bleeding into every word.
“Soon, baby, I promise. First I want you to circle your clit, bring yourself all the way to the edge.”
Her moans and whimpers are driving me crazy, and I stroke myself right to the same goddamn edge.
“Crey, please. I need—”
“Turn up the vibe, baby, and then I want it nice and snug up inside that tight little pussy, pressing against your G-spot. I want you to take it deep like you’d take me. Get yourself there. All the way. I want to hear it right now. Because when I come all over my hand, I want to hear you screaming my name.”
Her harsh oh my God precedes louder and louder moans. “Crey . . . I’m gonna. I have to . . . I can’t . . .”
“Come for me, Holly. Right now. Right the fuck now.”
My order is sharp because I’m teetering on the edge of control, my balls pulled up to the base of my cock, my orgasm about to blow.
“Crey!” Her moan approaches a scream and I wish, more than anything, I were there to see her face as pleasure drags her past the point of no return.
I lose my own ironclad control, and her name echoes in our bedroom. A few beats later, I drop my head back on the pillow.
Her voice comes through the phone. “Crey, are you still there?”
“I’m still here, baby. You just fucking destroyed me from over six hundred miles away.”
A soft chuckle comes through the phone, followed by a few minutes of nothing but our heavy breathing as we both recover.
Eventually Holly speaks first. “I’m glad I caught you tonight. I’m sorry about earlier. Mama came home. She appreciated the vacation. So, thank you for that.”
My hackles rise. “Your mother came home? Are you okay?” I grab the T-shirt I tossed aside and clean my mess off my hand and stomach. “Fuck, I should’ve stayed.”
“It’s okay, Crey. Don’t freak out. It was actually . . . good. We talked. I think she and I might actually be in a semi-okay place at the moment. If you were still here, I don’t think that would’ve happened, so maybe things needed to happen like this.”
The tension gripping me eases only a fraction. “Are you sure? Because, fuck, Holly, from what you’ve told me about your mother—”
“I know, but she’s still my mama, for better or for worse, and if there’s a chance it can be for the better, then I need to believe that maybe she has changed. I know I’ve set myself up for the fall before, but she actually seems different this time.”
Bad feelings churn in my gut, but I can’t bring myself to crush the hope in Holly’s voice. All I can see is that little girl in the pictures at her gran’s, wishing her mother would be like the other mothers and actually give a damn about her instead of the man-of-the-minute in her life.
I choose my words carefully. “I support you, Holly. So whatever you decide is best for you, I’m going to support that too.”
The soft laugh that echoes through the phone slips into my chest and grips my heart.
“You’re right, Crey. This is as real as it gets. I love you. I’ll talk to you in the morning?”
“Absolutely. I love you too. Good night, baby.”
When I hang up, I’m smiling. I need to figure this shit out with my uncle tomorrow, because I’m flying south ASAP.
Head aching a little from the wine, but thankfully not hung over, I roll out of bed and tiptoe down the stairs. Gran’s bedroom door is wide open, and it appears that Mama never came home last night.
I shove down the sarcastic voice inside me that wants to say, Shocking, really? Like I told Creighton, I need to believe she’s changed.
I brew a cup of coffee and peek out the window to the front porch. I’m still grateful people have decided I’m not really worth noticing, even in this small town. Grabbing one of Gran’s hand-knitted afghans, I go out onto the front porch and curl up in the rocking chair.
It’s dawn, still cold enough out that steam is rising off the pond across the road. There’s a peacefulness here that doesn’t exist anywhere else.
Crey’s right; I’m not ready to sell this house. I may not make it back here as often as I’d like, but having this place as my haven seems imperative. Coming back to my roots was the right choice. No matter how many fans may know my name, and no matter how crazy life may get, I’m just a simple girl from Gold Haven, Kentucky.
And now, after coming home and seeing this place through my slightly jaded eyes—and through Creighton’s eyes—I’m okay with being that girl. Just like everyone else, I’m the sum total of my experiences, and I wouldn’t be where I am today, married to the man I’m crazy in love with, if I didn’t walk the path that was set out in front of me.
As I rock in the chair on Gran’s porch and watch the sunrise paint the sky, I can’t help but be grateful for the opportunities I’ve been given. Memories of hardships fade away, overshadowed by all the goodness.