Page 91 of Notes About Vodka

Speeding up, I let go, losing myself to pleasure. The bed creaks beneath me and I’m sure my neighbors underneath mycondo hate me right now. But I don’t care because Laura is climaxing again. Her orgasm squeezes me so tightly I come again. I’m sure ropes of my cum are coating her insides but I can’t stop.

When we finally calm down, I clean us in the shower. Crawling back into my bed, I kiss Laura deeply only to end up inside of her while I’m standing and fucking her on the edge of my bed. By the time we are both finally sated, I’ve come three times and pretty sure I’ve given Laura at least a dozen orgasms. Especially when she’s putty in my arms and twisted around my body snoring as the sun slowly comes up.

I wake up with Laura still in my arms.

She didn’t leave. Part of me was afraid she would take off like she did the other morning.

She stirs, opening sun kissed gray eyes and smiling at me. Today there are flecks of sapphire and a distinct golden wave circling her pupils. Laura’s eyes are my own personal kaleidoscope into her soul.

“Good morning,” she says, her voice soft and sleepy.

“Good morning,” I reply, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “How do you feel?”

“Happy,” she says simply. “And a little guilty.”

“Guilty?” I ask, concerned.

She sighs, sitting up slightly. “I’m still married, Val. I know it’s complicated, but I can’t help feeling like I’m doing something wrong. And I’m really, really sore.”

I take her hand, squeezing it gently. “Laura, I care about you. And I know things aren’t easy right now, but we’ll figure it out. Fuck Sam. And as for being sore, are you sure.”

I reach forward, tracing her swollen pussy with my fingers but she moves away.

Laura nods, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty. “I want to be with you, Val. I really do. But one, I need another shower, two, I really must get divorced, and three, I think you broke my pussy.”

I laugh, kissing her lips. “Then we’ll make it work,” I promise, kissing her hand. “One step at a time.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

LAURA

“Vodka, like family, can burn going down but leave a warmth that lingers long after. It reminds us of where we came from and what we’ve shared—both the bitter and the sweet.”

Later, we get dressed and head out to meet my family for breakfast.

I try to smile through the nerves, my stomach tied in knots as Val and I walk into the pancake diner.

I wasn’t planning on introducing him to my parents, but I guess it’s happening anyways.

Even though his hand on my lower back is a comforting presence, my mind races with worst-case scenarios—awkward silences, embarrassing stories, or my dad giving Val one of his trademark grilling sessions. I picture long pauses and forced smiles followed by them asking about Sam.

My heart pounds in my chest like a drum. The scent of syrup and sizzling bacon fills the air, and the clink ofsilverware on plates makes my pulse race even more. I want to just turn around and run, hide in Val’s bed until they are gone.

My palms are damp, and I can't shake the feeling that this breakfast could go terribly wrong.

Val grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.

My dad and stepmom, Barbara, are already there, along with Leigha, who looks like she barely survived the night. Her hair is a mess, she’s in a matching purple jogging suit, and she's wearing sunglasses indoors.

"Morning, family," I say, forcing cheerfulness into my voice.

"Hey, sis," Leigha groans. "Who turned on the sun?"

Dad stands up to shake Val's hand. "You must be Val. Laura's told us a little bit about you."

Val grips his hand firmly and smiles. "Yes, sir. It's great to meet you."

Barbara gives him a once-over and then smiles, her eyes crinkling with curiosity and approval. "So, you're the bartender from Russia?"

---