Chapter 24: A Real Table

The next Thanksgiving I woke up at an address.

It was a brown house on the north side of Missoula with a porch, a mailbox, and my name on the lease beside Nolan's.

He had put in for the transfer in January.

The sun came through the blinds in stripes across the bed, and his mouth was on my stomach.

"Morning," he said against my skin.

"What time is it?"

"Late. Danny's been texting since seven."

"Then he can wait."

"That's what I told him."

His beard dragged down over my hip, and I opened my legs without thinking about it.

He slid down the bed and settled between my thighs, and his tongue ran flat along my pussy, slow, from bottom to top.

I gasped into the pillow.

"Nolan."

"Mm."

He found my clit with the tip of his tongue and circled it, and then he sucked, and my back came off the mattress.

I put a hand in his hair and held on.

He pushed two fingers into me and curled them, and he licked me in long, hungry strokes, and I heard the wet sounds I made and did not care.

"Don't stop," I said. "Right there. Right there."

"I've got you."

I came hard, shaking, with his name in my throat, and he kept his mouth on me through every pulse of it.

When I could breathe I pulled him up by the shoulders.

"Now you," I said.

"Turn over."

I rolled onto my stomach and got up on my knees.

He knelt behind me, and one hand spread across the small of my back.

I felt the head of his cock slide through my wetness, and I pushed back into it.

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