Page 130 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls

Eyes shuttered closed in this torrent, Skye answered without needing clarification. “Yes.”

Three fingers. Skye canted her hips with them, enthralled by how Celene hit all the right points, running jolts through her body. She stopped clawing at the comforter to squeeze her own breast and knew she’d made the perfect decision when Celene called her sexy.

She’d come soon, so soon for Celene.

Yet, Skye had to blink open for confirmation when Celene’s husky voice muttered, “And another?”

‘Four-fingered penetration,’ as Celene had put it that many weeks ago. Following extensive, tormenting foreplay.

Thinking again about how Celene could surely out-seduce the Mistress of Norwood, Skye whimpered, “Yes. Carefully.”

“Always,” Celene breathed as gently as the fourth finger she eased in.

More than wet receptive, Skye keened through the supreme fullness of Celene Vale graduating the speed of her motions in long, attentive passes. With the rising tempo, Celene breathed harder—like she couldn’t go on much longer. It was so damn sexy how Celene got off on pleasuring her.

Sucking in air, Skye began to thrash and Celene let her go for it.

Free to break the calm of Celene’s sanctuary with Skye’s harsh swears, cries that could wake the dead, bouncing from the walls in reverb. And Celene’s moans rose higher, sharper than ever. Probably the first time she’d enjoyed this level of noise in her apartment.

But neither of them could help it. Especially when Skye beckoned Celene to kiss her as she pulsed around fingers that knew her better than anyone. Curling, stretching, then departing, one contentious digit at a time.

Celene needed that.

Hell, Skye needed that. Desperately.

“Otherworldly,” Celene whispered into a sweaty, tongue-filled kiss that seized Skye’s soul. “Magnificent.”

Skye had judged Celene so wrongly on the side of the road, near the blueberry patch, as Celene gave the rush of a river, with none of the pain.

Allowing the acceptance to give her strength, she climbed atop Celene. Skye pecked a path downward, to where herappetite took her. With Celene clenching her scalp and succulence on her tongue, Skye knew what they had would last longer than a summer.

33

The Vales were warm people, Skye observed.

Also, very lively.

Or, as Celene muttered under her breath:chaotic.

Stationed at Celene’s brother’s home in Newark, New Jersey, the visit started in the informal, animated semi-disarray that echoed Cosmo’s visits with his family. Byron and Donovan quibbling over the best gravy for roast chicken. Briana and Elise making spoiler-adjacent predictions through a movie streaming in the living room. Theo giggling hard whenever Ajay made a goofy face, and sobbing if the face wasn’t amusing enough.

And, most notably, Celene’s nieces orchestrated a game called “Grocery Store Adventures,” which involved them recruiting Skye to play “Queen Cashier” in their massive faerie-themed bedroom. Eventually, Isolde skipped out in her sparkle leggings, dragging Celene in by the arm to take on the role as the mayor. Skye couldn’t follow the logic of needing a mayor in a supermarket monarchy, but it was well worth seeing Celene stumble through a speech about plastic fruit.

Edna showed up midway through dinner, having been stuck at the university. Donovan and Byron immediately crowded her,imploring her to choose between their two dishes of gravy. She primly tasted each without spilling on her chic professor-like shirt and slacks, declaring Donovan the winner.

The table—save Skye and Celene—went wild at that conclusion. Naturally, the two vegetarians skipped anything chicken or gravy that used its drippings, but Skye couldsmelland Byron’s seemed by far more flavorsome. Edna automatically choosing Byron’s son over her ex-husband made sense, though, even in lightheartedness. Skye’s suspicion was further supported by Edna’s sly smirk as she took a seat.

This blended family aspect worked for them. Barring the nonstop action, they moved amicably, and their jokes were pretty entertaining. Celene, however, existed as a mostly silent observer. She’d smile or offer her opinion on an issue. Otherwise, Skye would touch Celene’s arm to remind her it was fine to be her quiet self, too. No pressure anymore.

After their meal, they’d switched to coffee Edna brought and a strawberry shortcake Skye and Celene grabbed at a bakery. Skye noticed that Celene’s mother didn’t speak much, either, though she did banter more, and her laugh had a distinct, boisterous quality.

With a fork and knife in hand, Edna slit a perfect corner of her piece of cake. “Skye, how many generations of your family live in Yielding?”

Throughout dinner, Skye would politely address any questions that came her way. Quite a feat, with that many personalities, yet she’d make the best impression possible. Especially knowing how the mood could shift once Celene addressed some of her qualms with the house offer. Skye felt Celene’s gaze on her as she answered, “Just the three. It would be four, but my brother Cosmo moved out of state before he and his wife had kids.”

“Have you been married before?”

“Mom,” Celene cut in, voice flat. “Why?”