Chapter 34: Chapter 34
The house smelled like pine needles and garlic bread. Somewhere in the living room, Izzy had wrestled the giant Christmas tree into a stand and was now arguing with it about whether the star went on straight. Steph was stationed on the couch with her feet up, eight months pregnant and radiant, directing the operation like a general. Her voice carried into the kitchen where I was scraping plates into the trash.
"You're going to bend the top branch if you keep pushing like that, Izzy."
"I'm not pushing. I'm placing."
"You're pushing."
The doorbell rang, and Zoe came padding out of the hallway in her socks, still buttoning her jeans one-handed. She got the front door and there was a shriek, a thump of luggage, and then Tiffany's voice, bright and cold-air flushed, cutting through the warm chaos.
"Hi! Oh my god, I missed this place so much."
I dried my hands and went out to meet her. She looked different than she had at Thanksgiving. Sharper, somehow. More settled. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and she was wearing a heavy knit sweater and jeans with a hole in the knee. No makeup. She bounced on her heels when she saw me.
"Ron."
"Sunshine." I opened my arms and she stepped into them, hugging me tight. She smelled like airplane air and peppermint gum.
"Thanks for letting me crash again."
"You never have to ask."
Dinner was a loud, messy affair. Steph had insisted on cooking even though she could barely reach the stove over her belly, and the kitchen looked like a flour bomb had gone off. We ate at the big table with the good plates, Izzy and Zoe bickering affectionately over the last roll, Tiffany telling stories about her sci-fi show and the terrible special effects budget. Steph laughed so hard she almost choked, and I sat at the head of the table watching them all, feeling something warm and stupid settle in my chest.
Afterwards, we cleaned up in shifts. I was at the sink, up to my elbows in soapy water, when I heard Zoe's voice from the hallway. She had Tiffany cornered near the stairs, her hands clasped in front of her, the way she did when she was nervous about asking for something.
"Hey, so, I know we're all kind of settling in for the night, but I was wondering if maybe you'd want to... you know. Later?"
There was a pause. Tiffany's voice came back soft and apologetic, no judgment in it.
"I don't think so tonight, Zoe. I'm kind of beat from the flight. Maybe another time?"
"Oh. Yeah, no, totally. No pressure." Zoe's voice was light, but I could hear the little dip in it. "I just figured I'd ask. Goodnight, Tiffany."
"Goodnight, Zoe."
I stayed at the sink, letting the water run, until I heard Zoe's footsteps retreating down the hall toward the room she shared with Steph. Then Tiffany appeared in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame.
"You overheard that, didn't you?"
"Maybe."
She smiled, small and private. "She's sweet. I just... I don't want to be someone's project tonight."
"She's not like that."
"I know. I know." Tiffany pushed off the doorframe and crossed to me, sliding her arms around my waist from behind. Her chin came to rest on my shoulder. "I just want to be with my boyfriend tonight, if that's okay."
I turned the water off and dried my hands, then turned in her arms. "Your boyfriend?"
"You heard me." She kissed me, soft and slow, the kind of kiss that wasn't asking for anything. "Can I sleep in your room tonight?"
"Always."
I took her hand and led her up the stairs, the house settling into its nightly quiet around us. Somewhere below, I heard Izzy muttering something about the star and Steph's low laugh in response, but the sounds faded as we reached the master bedroom and I closed the door behind us.
The room was warm. The big California king bed dominated the space, the sheets slightly rumpled from the night before, and the city lights glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Tiffany let go of my hand and turned in a slow circle, taking it in.
"I forgot how big this room is," she said, her voice a little hushed. "It's like a hotel suite. But cozier."
"Stay as long as you want. You know that."
She smiled at me, that private smile she'd been wearing all evening, and then she pulled her sweater over her head. No performance, no teasing reveal. Just a girl getting undressed in her boyfriend's bedroom. The ratty t-shirt came next, and her jeans, and then she was standing there in a plain cotton bra and underwear, her skin goosebumped from the cool air.
I stripped too. Unceremonious, the way she had. My t-shirt over my head, my jeans and boxers shoved down my legs. We met in the middle of the room, naked, and she reached up to touch my face, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw.
"You feel like home," she said quietly.
I kissed her. It was slow and unhurried, our lips familiar now, her body pressing against mine. She was warm and soft and she fit against me perfectly, her arms looping around my neck, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. I let my hands wander down her back, over the curve of her ass, squeezing gently. She made a small noise against my mouth and pressed closer.
We shuffled toward the bed and tumbled onto it together, laughing a little at our own clumsiness. The sheets were cool at first, then warmed quickly as we settled. Tiffany stretched out on her back beneath me, her blonde hair fanning out on the pillow, her arms and legs spreading wide in welcome.
"Come here," she whispered.
But I shook my head, a grin tugging at my mouth. "Not yet. I want to taste you first."
Her eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. She'd been with me before, plenty of times, but I'd never been this deliberate. Never this unhurried. She relaxed back into the pillows, her legs falling open further.
"Okay," she breathed. "Yeah. Okay."
I kissed my way down her body, starting at her lips and working lower. Her neck, the hollow of her throat, the swell of her breasts. I paused to take one nipple in my mouth, and she gasped, her hand coming up to cradle the back of my head. I sucked gently, rolling the hardened peak with my tongue, then gave the other breast the same attention. Her hips shifted restlessly beneath me.
"Ron..."
"Patience, Sunshine."
I trailed kisses down her belly, past her navel, feeling the muscles flutter under my lips. Her skin was so soft. She smelled like soap and warm woman, a clean scent that filled my head. When I reached the thatch of blonde hair between her legs, I paused, looking up at her. She was watching me with wide blue eyes, her chest rising and falling quickly.
"I've wanted this all day," I admitted. "Since you walked through the door."
"Then don't keep me waiting."
I lowered my mouth to her. The first taste of her made me groan against her flesh. She was already wet, slick and sweet, and she cried out softly as my tongue found her clit. I licked her slowly, savoring, drawing lazy circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her thighs trembled on either side of my head.
"Fuck," she whispered. "That's so good."
I worked her with my tongue, alternating between broad, flat strokes and pointed flicks. Her taste flooded my mouth. I could feel her growing wetter, hotter, her hips beginning to roll in time with my rhythm. I slid two fingers inside her, and she cried out, her back arching off the bed.
"Oh, god. Ron."
I curled my fingers, pressing against the soft, spongy spot inside her while my tongue stayed on her clit. She was close already, I could feel it in the way her inner walls fluttered around my fingers. I added a third, stretching her, and she whimpered.
"Please," she gasped. "Please, I'm gonna..."
I didn't stop. I kept licking and fucking her with my fingers, relentless, until she shattered with a sharp cry that she tried to muffle with her hand. Her body convulsed around me, her thighs clamping tight around my head, and I rode it out with her, drinking every drop of her release.
When she finally relaxed, panting, I crawled up her body. She was glowing, her cheeks flushed, her eyes hazy and soft. She pulled me down into a deep, languid kiss, tasting herself on my tongue.
"Jesus," she murmured against my lips. "Where did that come from?"
"I told you. I've been wanting you all day."
The head of my cock nudged against her entrance, slick with her juices. She looked down between us, then back up at me, and something shifted in her expression. A quiet tenderness.
"Come inside me," she said.
I pushed in slowly, watching her face as I buried myself inch by inch inside her. She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut, her fingers digging into my shoulders. God, she was tight. Hot and silky and gripping me like she never wanted to let go.
"Fuck, Tiffany."
"Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah, right there. Just like that."
I began to move. Long, deep strokes, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in, each thrust seating me fully inside her. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her heels pressing into the small of my back, pulling me deeper. The rhythm was slow and sure, the way two people fuck when they're already familiar with each other's bodies. No fumbling. No awkward adjustments. Just the easy, perfect slide of skin against skin.
"God, I missed this," she said, her voice strained. "I missed you."
"Missed you too, Sunshine."
Her hands roamed my body, tracing the muscles of my back, my shoulders, the curve of my ass. She pulled me down and kissed me, and I felt her smile against my lips.
"You know," she said, between kisses, "all the guys in Vancouver who tried to hit on me... I told them I had a rich boyfriend in LA."
A possessive surge went through me. I thrust deeper, harder, and she moaned. "Yeah?"
"Mm-hmm. Tall, handsome, hung like a horse." A breathless laugh. "Very hung."
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
"It's not flattery. It's the truth." She looked up at me, her eyes shining. "I told them I wasn't interested. Because I've got someone back home who knows how to take care of me."
Her words did something to me. Something primal and tender all at once. I kissed her hard, pouring everything I felt into it, and she kissed me back just as fiercely. Her hips bucked to meet mine, matching my rhythm, and I felt her start to tighten around me again.
"Oh, god. Ron, I'm gonna come."
"Then come," I grunted. "Come on my cock, baby."
She cried out as she climaxed, her whole body shaking, her inner walls clenching around me in waves. I kept thrusting through it, driving into her, and she sobbed with pleasure, her nails raking down my back.
"Don't stop. Please don't stop."
"I won't. I promise."
I kept fucking her, slow and deep, letting her ride out the aftershocks. Her body was wrapped around mine, legs and arms and heat, and she felt so good I never wanted to leave. She came again with a shuddering gasp, her eyes rolling back, her mouth open on a silent scream.
Then she went limp beneath me, breathing hard, her chest heaving.
Then she went limp beneath me, breathing hard, her chest heaving. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. For a moment I thought she was done, completely spent, and I slowed, ready to pull out and just hold her.
But she opened her eyes. And she looked up at me, her blue eyes the color of a clear winter sky. A small smile tugged at her mouth, sleepy and sated.
"Don't you dare stop," she whispered.
I tilted my hips. The last thick inch of my cock, the one I'd been holding back, pushed fully inside her. She groaned, a low, bone-deep sound, her hands fisting in the sheets. The head of my cock, that fat plum-shaped swell, pressed up against the deepest part of her, against her cervix. I felt her whole body shudder around me.
I ground into her slowly, my hips moving in a lazy circle, working that last inch deeper. Her mouth fell open and she made a sound I'd never heard from her, a long, aching moan that came from somewhere primal. Her legs, still wrapped around my waist, tightened.
"God," she breathed. "God, Ron."
I kept the slow, circular grind going, watching her face. Her brow furrowed, her lashes fluttering. She was feeling everything, every millimeter of me inside her. I leaned down and kissed her throat, her jaw, her mouth. She kissed me back, but it was distracted, her lips slack and trembling.
"I'm sorry," she said suddenly.
The words were so unexpected I almost stopped moving. I pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were wet, suddenly, glistening with unshed tears.
"What?"
"I'm sorry." Her voice cracked. "I'm sorry I was so shitty to you before I left."
I blinked. "Tiffany—"
"No, let me say it." She cupped my face with both hands, her thumbs tracing my cheekbones. "The first time I was here. At Thanksgiving. I was so... I was so caught up in being Sunshine. The porn star. The girl who learns to show off her body to get what she wants." Her voice wobbled. "And I treated you like a mark. Like a wallet with a house. I played you, Ron. I was so busy being someone I thought I needed to be that I forgot to just be Tiffany."
I opened my mouth to reassure her, but she kept going, the words tumbling out now, a dam breaking.
"And I left, and I got the job, and I thought that would fix everything. But every time some guy at a bar in Vancouver tried to buy me a drink, I'd think about you. About this house. About the way you looked at me when I wasn't performing. And I'd tell them about my rich boyfriend in LA, and I'd realize..." She swallowed, a tear escaping down her cheek. "I'd realize I was telling the truth."
"Hey." I brushed the tear away with my thumb. "Hey, Sunshine. Look at me."
She did, her eyes red-rimmed and vulnerable.
"You don't owe me an apology for being young and trying to survive. We all do stupid shit when we're scared." I kissed her forehead, her temple, the corner of her eye. "You came back. That's all that matters. You chose to come back."
"I didn't know if you'd want me," she whispered. "I was so scared you'd figured me out and decided I wasn't worth it."
I laughed, soft and warm. "Tiffany. I've got a house full of women who all figured me out years ago. You're not getting rid of me that easy."
She laughed too, a wet, hiccuping sound, and kissed me. It was a messy kiss, salt and love and everything messy and real, and I held her through it, still buried deep inside her, my hips still moving in that slow, circular grind.
Her arms came up around my neck, her cheek pressing against mine. I could feel her body shaking against me, but it wasn't from crying anymore. That tremble, I knew it. Her thighs tightened around my hips, her inner walls starting to flutter, that telltale clench that meant she was building again.
"That's it," I murmured in her ear. "Let it happen, Sunshine."
"I can't," she whimpered. "I've come so many times already, I can't—"
"You can. Your body knows what it needs." I ground into her deeply, the head of my cock pressing against her deepest spot, and she gasped. "Just let go. I've got you."
She sobbed once, a broken sound, and then her body arched beneath me. This orgasm was different from the earlier ones. Those had been sharp, explosive, climactic. This one was deeper, more like a wave that started in her toes and rolled up through her entire body, slow and inevitable. She shook against me, her arms locked around my neck so tight I could feel her pulse through her chest, her mouth open against my ear.
I kept moving. The slow, deliberate grind, the circle of my hips, the constant, unrelenting pressure of my cock seated as deep as I could get. She was sobbing now, little choked sounds that were half pleasure, half release, all emotion.
I felt my own body responding. My balls, swollen and full, tightened up against my body. The heat coiled low in my gut, the familiar pressure building toward a breaking point. And Tiffany felt it too. She sensed the change in my rhythm, the slight stutter in my hips, the harder, faster thud of my heartbeat where her cheek was pressed against mine.
"Please," she begged, her voice a choking sob. "Please, Ron. I need it. Please, all of it. In me."
"Tiffany—"
"I know," she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I need to feel you come inside me. I need to know you're still mine. Please."
The word mine did something to me. It unlocked a door I didn't even know I'd closed. I pulled back just enough to look at her, her face flushed and streaked with tears, her eyes desperate and hungry, and I knew I couldn't refuse her. Not this.
"I'm going to fill you up," I said, my voice rough. "I'm going to pump every drop I have into this pretty pussy. You're going to feel it for days, Sunshine."
"Yes," she hissed. "Yes, please, do it, please—"
I drove into her, abandoning the lazy circles for the hard, deep strokes she was begging for. My hips slammed against hers, the sound of our bodies meeting filling the room. She cried out, her nails digging into my shoulders, her legs locked around me so tight I couldn't have pulled out if I'd tried.
"Come inside me," she begged. "Come inside me, Ron, please, I want it, I want all of it—"
The dam finally broke, and it wasn't a slow leak but a full-on eruption. I slammed my cock all the way in and came, the surge of pleasure rattling my bones. Spurt after spurt of thick, scalding cum blasted into her cunt, coating her insides. She whimpered at the intense heat flooding her, and I felt her pussy grip me like a fist, squeezing every last drop out of my balls.
I kept coming, my hips jerking with each pulse, wave after wave. It seemed to go on forever, that deep, rolling release, and with each pulse I felt her body tightening around me, pulling me deeper, taking everything I had to give.
When I finally collapsed on top of her, spent and trembling, she wrapped her arms around me, her legs still locked around my waist, keeping me inside her. She didn't want me to move. Didn't want a single drop to escape.
"Fuck," she whispered, her voice shot to hell. "Oh my god."
"Good?" I managed, my face buried in her neck.
She laughed, a wet, incredulous sound. "I've never come like that. Not with anyone. I didn't think I could."
I lifted my head, looking down at her. Her face was a mess, tear-streaked and flushed, her lips swollen, her hair plastered to her forehead. She'd never looked more beautiful.
"How'd I get so lucky?" I asked softly.
She wrapped her arms tighter around my neck, pulling my face down to hers. "I think I'm the lucky one." She kissed me, slow and soft, tasting of salt and sex. "I'm not leaving this time, Ron. I mean it. I'm done running."
My chest tightened. "What about the show?"
The show goes on hiatus for the holidays," she said. "And... we'll figure it out. But I want to be here. With you. With everyone." She paused, biting her lip. "If you'll have me."
"Sunshine. You're always welcome here. That was never in question."
A slow smile spread across her face, radiant through the exhaustion. "Good. Because I'm planning on being the best goddamn girlfriend you've ever had."
"Only girlfriend," I pointed out. "So you win by default."
She laughed, a real laugh, full and warm, and I felt her body shake beneath mine, still connected, still full of me. "I'll take it."
We lay there for a long moment, tangled and sweaty and smiling, the city lights glittering through the windows beyond the bed. The house was quiet around us. No sounds from downstairs anymore. Izzy and Steph and Zoe had all presumably found their beds. The Christmas tree stood below, somewhere, probably still slightly crooked, but no one was left to fix it.
Tiffany shifted underneath me, wincing slightly. "You're heavy."
"Sorry."
"Don't be." She ran her fingers through my hair. "I like it. I like feeling pinned down. Like I can't run even if I wanted to."
"Run all you want," I said. "I'll always catch you."
She kissed me again, soft and slow, and I felt her body relax completely beneath me. The tight, wired energy she'd been carrying all day just melted away into the sheets. She sighed against my mouth.
"Merry Christmas, Ron."
I smiled, my forehead resting against hers. "Not for a few weeks yet."
"Don't care." Her hand found mine and laced our fingers together. "This is all I wanted this year. This is home."
I wanted to say something, some grand declaration, but the words felt too small. So I just held her, my cock still softening inside her, my arms wrapped around her body. We lay there in the warm, golden darkness, two people who had found their way back to each other, and I let myself believe, just for a moment, that this was the start of something real.
The city hummed beyond the glass, distant and indifferent. But this room, this bed, this girl wrapped around me, this was mine. And I was hers. And whatever came next, we'd face it together.