Page 43 of Once Upon a Dream
And yet walking into this kitchen with these two—Snow in her fuzzies and Liam in borrowed pajama pants—feels like the most important moment of my life. It feels like coming home, like destiny, like some part of me was constructed at birth to be in love with these two people—and I’m so, so aware that I know fuck all about Liam, but that doesn’t seem to matter. Not to the balloon of hope expanding inside my chest.
Liam clicks off the stove, tucks the kitchen towel in a neat fold over the oven handle, and then takes the plate of bacon to another counter, where he has bread and peanut butter waiting.
“What about eggs?” I ask, because I know we have some. Snow and I had stocked up for well over a week’s worth of food.
“It’s too late in the day for eggs,” he replies, as if that settles it, and then he makes us all peanut butter and bacon sandwiches, which he serves with a tall glass of milk and a cup of coffee. It’s not exactly a fluffy omelet covered with diced cilantro and perfect crescents of avocado, but as we sit around the table eating his bear-man food, I think I can’t be happier.
Snow
I decide just to say it.
Liam’s in the kitchen, cleaning up after his meal, and Scarlett and I are sitting on the counter. Scarlett’s drizzling syrup onto her finger and then sucking it off, and Liam’s pretending not to notice.
His massive erection tells a different story, however.
“I want you to stay longer than another night,” I say quickly. My words seem to puncture the easy—if palpable with sexual tension—energy we’ve had going this morning, but I don’t care. I’m the only one brave enough to actually say what I want, and so it’s my job to get this straightened out.
“I know at some point we’ll have to take you back to your place, and I know you probably have all sorts of things that need tending to, but we’re not going back to Texas until Christmas and I think we’ve been having a lot of fun together and—”
“Yes,” Liam says. He turns to look at us both, taller than us even as we sit on the countertops. “I want more. I want to stay.”
Scarlett is so engrossed in his response that the syrup she was about to drizzle onto her finger misses and ribbons thinly over her bare thigh.
He sees it—and with a growl and a duck that serves to showcase his perfect shoulders, he licks it off her skin.
In true Scarlett fashion, she lets out a delighted giggle and then deliberately drizzles more syrup on her other thigh. Liam follows, licking her clean.
“More,” he says simply when he’s done with her thigh.
Scarlett’s eyebrow makes an impish arch as she obeys—and allows the syrup to drip all over the waxed vee between her legs. With a grunt of approval, Liam drops to his knees, slings her legs over his shoulders, and licks her to a shuddering orgasm.
He hands the syrup bottle to me once he’s satisfied Scarlett’s been seen to, but I have different plans.
I urge him up to his feet and pull him into a long kiss. He kisses differently than anyone I know, like every kiss is the last kiss he’ll ever have and he needs to savor it completely. Take it fully and leave nothing unseared by his need. We’re both breathless when we break apart, and his usual gruff expression is softened when I look up at him.
He looks down at me the way a man who cherishes a woman would—like he wants to fold me into his arms and never let me go, like he wants to fight battles for me and provide for me and spend the rest of his life with me. I mean, I consider myself fairly evolved when it comes to gender politics, but I’m shocked at how good it feels to have him looking at me this way. It’s almost like between him and Scarlett, I can have every type of adoration I ever wanted from a lover, and types of adorations I didn’t even know I wanted.
So when I carry out my little plan and tug the waistband of his pajamas down to drip syrup onto his turgid cock, it’s not with the same arch playfulness as Scarlett had, it’s with something serious and careful and aware. Our eyes don’t break from each other’s, even when I slide off the countertop to my knees, and I hope he sees in my gaze that I see him. That I see what he wants from us and I’m ready to give it to him.
That I think we could all fall in love with each other if we gave it a chance.
7
Liam
Snow is looking up at me with everything I’ve ever wanted.
Intelligence and desire and tender concern.
Cold nights on the mountain wouldn’t be so cold if I had angels like these to come back to, I decide. And I also decide that I’m going to do everything in my power to make these angels mine—or convince them to make me theirs. Life’s too short to throw away gifts like the one the three of us share.
Scarlett follows Snow to the floor, and then I have two tongues slowly cleaning my aching cock, lapping at the syrup and sucking it off my skin. Scarlett fondles my balls as she cleans me, her clever fingers pressing behind my sack and finding all sorts of places I would have sworn weren’t for pleasure.
But in her hands, they are; she acts as if everything on my body and Snow’s body are for her pleasure. Like everything can be fun and delicious if only we’re brave enough to try.
Mine.
Or theirs.
