Page 100 of The Other Side

I sink into the rumpled sheets, and he carefully slips out of me.

I shamelessly sob when I’m left empty, but he’s already rasping his next words. “I should’ve come back for you sooner.” He peeks between us, framing my pussy lips with two long fingers. Then he squeezes some of his cum from me. “I’m a fucking fool thinking you wouldn’t get scooped up by another man,” he confesses, his voice punched with regret.

His digit drags through my slit, and he collects our mingled arousal. He lifts it to the valley between my breasts, traveling his wet finger downward.

I catch his wrist in my hand to bring it to my mouth. I suck the soaked fingertip through my lips, our tangy nectar lathering my tongue like a dose of heroin.

When I swallow our pleasured juices, I peck the pad of his digit before I say, “We’re here now. You found me.” My mouth twitches in gratitude, my eyes blooming with fresh tears. “Just like you said you would.”

Before I can hiccup a breath, Brant’s snuggling his arms around me so tight.

Just as mine swaddle him.

And we don’t let each other go.

Chapter 29

Brant

I walk through my bedroom door, greeted by a sleeping Callie. Her arms are raised above her head as her long waves spray across my navy pillowcase. The early sun leaks through the window at her right side, highlighting the contours of her nose and cheekbones.

I half-turn to click the door shut, knowing Sean’s home. A smirk sweeps across my lips as I pad closer to the bed. I notice her lengthy eyelashes laying peacefully through her slumber.

The Nexis t-shirt I lent her last night is huge on her.

But it’s never looked more fitting.

Carefully, I toe my sneakers off, situating my knee on the mattress. She squirms when my side of the bed dips, and I slowly climb over to nudge the tip of her nose with mine.

“Hey,” I whisper.

A tiny groan falls from her plump lips before she pivots her head away from me. I smile, leaning down to graze my mouth over her satin cheek.

“You have work,” I murmur. “Or did you forget to tell me you quit?”

I quirk a brow as I pull away, and she’s rubbing her eyes open with her fingers. “What time is it?” she mumbles.

“Six o’clock,” I answer. “But can you open your eyes? Because I feel stupid still carrying this thing.”

Her chin dips, her hooded gaze connecting with the sunflower I’m holding.

I twirl the fuzzy stem between my fingers, grinning when the corner of her lips curls up. “You have a garden too?” she jokes through a groggy voice.

I lightly chuckle, handing the flower to her. “Twenty-four-hour convenience store up the road.”

“Ah,” she says, “work smarter not harder.”

I maneuver my body when her knees bend up under the covers. I cross my arms over the hills of her legs, and her eyes admire the bold, yellow petals.

She brings the large center to her nose, and when her eyes close, a halo of warmth frames my heart.

She looks like the girl from Willowhart. Only, her beauty has blossomed like the sunflower she’s cradling.

She has peace living within her now.

Harmony crawls from inside of her, painting her cheeks a brighter shade of pink. Glimmering a stronger twinkle in those sage-green depths. Yanking the crooks of her mouth a centimeter higher.

She’s the vision I dreamed of for so many nights. Ever since I was eight years old.