Unravel Me (Playing For Keeps Book 3)
Unravel Me: Chapter 14

“I think it’s clean, Ro.” Archie tears the plate I’ve been washing for five minutes from my hands, rinsing the suds before setting it on the drying rack. “That guy really did dickmatize you, didn’t he?”

“Dickmatize is not a real word.”

“It is in my vocabulary, and yours now, too, since you’ve been walking around with that dazed look on your face for days.” Archie takes the next plate from me. “Proud of you, though. You’re like a horny teenager discovering herself for the first time.”

I roll my eyes, flicking suds at him. “I’m a mother; I’m hardly discovering myself for the first time.”

“Practically. How many orgasms did Brandon give you while you two were doing…whatever the fuck you were doing? Two?”

“Shut up.”

“One?”

My mouth scrunches as I scrub a fork with vigor.

“Rosie, tell me Brandon gave you at least one—”

“I can give myself orgasms, okay?” It comes out a little more Attitude-y Judy than I mean it to, because no, Brandon never gave me an orgasm, and quite frankly, any orgasms I manage to give myself are both fleeting and underwhelming. Better than nothing, I guess.

“I need an orgasm,” I say at the exact moment Archie declares, “You need to get laid.”

“I don’t want to jump into anything with Adam, though.” I drain the sink, washing my hands. “I want the physical stuff, but I don’t want it to override everything else, you know?”

“It sounds like you guys are moving at a fine pace.” He snags my lower lip and tugs it free of my teeth. “What are you really worried about?”

I nibble my thumbnail and lift a shoulder. “What if I’m boring in bed? I don’t have a lot of experience, and we never really tried anything different. Is that why Brandon always wanted it to be over so quick? And we never cuddled after. He’d always roll away, or get up to play video games, or—”

“Rosie.” Archie takes my face in his hands. “I know he’s Connor’s dad, but the guy’s a total mooncalf; sorry, not sorry. He’s never deserved your time, your body, or your heart, but you gave him all of it anyway.”

“I just wanted someone to want me.” The words are fractured and whispered, and I hate that they hurt, the way they singe the air and leave it heavy and suffocating.

“I know you did, honey. But he left you with more insecurities than you started with, and I hate him for that. You’ve got a beautiful heart. You’re so kind, so smart, and so incredibly strong. He has a way of making you forget that. I don’t know Adam, but he seems to make you remember all those things about yourself.” Archie takes my hands, a gentle squeeze that always settles my racing thoughts. “Let him build you up. And in the meantime, let’s get you some toys so you can work on taking care of yourself.”

I slap his hands away. “I don’t need a dildo.”

“There are these clit suckers too.”

“Archie, I’m not buying toys for myself.”

He winks, throwing the dish towel over his shoulder as he starts putting the dishes away. “Okay, Rosie.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“You’re not buying me toys either.”

Another wink. “Definitely not, Rosie.”

I jab a finger into his shoulder. “Stop saying my name.”

A sneaky smirk. “Sure thing, Ro.” His chuckle chases after me as I scoop up Connor’s diaper bag. “You’d be less grumpy if you got laid.”

“Mmm,” I grunt out, tossing the bag by the door before I join Connor on the living room floor, where he’s playing with his farm animals. “Are you ready to go to the park, baby?”

He picks up the small cow, thrusting it in my face. “Cow! Moooo !” The chicken is next, bouncing along my thigh. “Cluck-cluck, cluck-cluck!”

I tap on the green tractor. “And what’s this?”

“Trac-ta ! Brum-brum!”

“Hey, monkey.” Archie leans in the doorway. “We goin’ to the park?”

Connor leaps to his feet, tossing his animals in a basket before running toward Archie on wobbly legs. “Pak ! Pak !”

I throw my arms in the air. “Doesn’t care when I suggest it.”

“’Cause I’m cool Uncle Arch.” He scoops Connor up, setting him in the wagon and nudging my shoes toward me. “You’re just Mom.”

Just Mom is trying her hardest to be cool, brave Mom, which is why I’m in my bathing suit again today for my son, chasing him around the splash pad at the park a half hour later beneath the warm summer sun.

“I’m proud of you,” Archie tells me when we break for a snack. “You’re making big strides with the water lately.”

“Connor had the best time swimming with Adam yesterday. He kept jumping in, right into Adam’s arms. He was so happy. I went in too. All the way.”

Archie stares at me, brows hiked, lips parted.

“Okay, I clung to Adam, and he promised he wouldn’t drop me. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, once I was in there, but I’d guess that has more to do with him.”

“Did you tell him? About—”

“That I almost drowned? Yeah.”

“And your parents?”

“I told him they passed away.”

“But you didn’t tell him the two were related?” he guesses. “You nearly drowning and your parents passing?”

I shake my head, shame creeping up my throat.

“Hey.” Archie squeezes my knee. “It’s okay. There’s no rush.”

“It’s just…what if I give him too much? Too soon? Then if it doesn’t work out, I’ve lost it all again. That sounds silly, I know, but—”

“It’s not silly, Rosie, but I do wish you weren’t always expecting the worst. I get it, though. Or I try to, at least.”

“Adam was in the foster system too,” I tell him quietly.

“Really? What are the chances? Something for you two to connect over.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too, but then…” I rub my neck, guilt making my throat tight. “I didn’t tell him I was in foster care. Our experiences were different. He was four, and he was adopted in under a year.”

Archie nods. “So you feel like, rather than connecting over a shared experience, they were way too different for Adam to possibly sympathize with you.”

I drop my face, ashamed. “How awful am I? Nobody is in the system for happy reasons. But when he talked about finding his family, I was just…so jealous. And I feel dirty for feeling that way, Arch. I’m an adult now. I should be over this. I’ve got a family of my own now. I have nothing to complain about.”

“Is that how that works? Your parents die, leaving you all alone in a big, scary world, you want nothing more than to find a family who’ll choose to love you, and when you don’t find that, you’re supposed to just grow up and get over it?” Archie shakes his head. “No, your experience definitely doesn’t diminish his, but neither does his diminish yours.”

“I should’ve told him then that I was in the system too,” I argue, “but I was so focused on how different our experiences were, how we couldn’t possibly connect because of those differences, how jealous I was, that I couldn’t share it.”

“Meeting someone where they’re at isn’t always about finding a way to relate to what they’ve gone through. He shared something and you listened, which is all he could really ask for. What’s going on in your head is your own business. Your feelings are valid and you need to process them, and look at you, doing it right now. You don’t need to punish yourself because you immediately made assumptions about someone else.”

It makes sense, all of it, and Archie’s always been this person for me, the one who hears my thoughts and validates all of them before helping me through the other side. It takes me a while to get there sometimes, that’s all.

“Hey.” He cups my face, forcing my eyes to his. “You spent a long time convincing yourself you weren’t lovable because nobody chose you. You wanted to be someone’s first choice, and you weren’t. But we aren’t for everyone. There’s always been something better waiting for you.” He points to Connor. “You’re that little boy’s first and only choice. And you’ll be someone else’s first choice when it comes to love too. Maybe it’ll be Adam, maybe it won’t. But what matters most, Rosie, is that you’re your own first choice. Love yourself for exactly who you are and where you’re at, mistakes, imperfections, and all. The people who are going to choose you will love all your pieces, not just some of them.”

“Come on. Just one quick glimpse at his Instagram.”

“Absolutely not.”

Marco shakes his phone at me, the same way he’s been doing for the last hour while trying to pry Adam’s last name out of me so he and Archie can snoop his profile. “Come on. Don’t you wanna see if he’s got any pictures of his exes?”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” The last thing I want to do is compare myself to any woman he’s dated in the past. I work hard to be happy with the way I look, and it’s not always easy. Comparison is the thief of joy.

“Okay, we don’t care about exes. That’s good. Can’t you just show your hot boyfriend off to your besties?”

“He doesn’t have social media,” I lie lazily, ignoring that boyfriend label that we haven’t discussed.

“What kind of a loser doesn’t have social media in this day and age?”

I pin my arms across my chest and scowl at Marco’s ridiculous, toothy grin as Archie hides behind a couch cushion. “Me.” The buzzer by the door rings and I race over to it, thinking it might be Adam. “Hello?”

“I’ve, uh…” The unknown voice on the other side clears his throat. “Got a couple of…packages…for Rosie Wells?”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.” I scoop my bag up and frown at Archie. “That’s weird, I don’t remember ordering anything.”

“Mhmm,” he hums, folding his lips into his mouth. “So weird.”

“I’ll grab the packages and wait out front for Adam. See you later.”

“Byyye,” Archie calls over his shoulder.

“Nice choice on the dress,” Marco adds. “Easy access.”

Easy access. Psssh. Please. It’s not like I’m hoping to feel Adam’s hands on my legs during the movie tonight, below the stars at the drive-in. I’m absolutely not dreaming of his fingers sliding higher, dipping below the hem of my dress in the dark. And I did not wear my prettiest pair of pink silk panties in hopes that he might touch them, or better yet, see them.

Absolutely not.

Okay, fine, but it’s not my fault. We’ve been spending so much time together, with Connor and without, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every single time that man has put his tongue in my mouth over the last week. I’m starting to crave…I don’t know exactly, but more. A little bit more. Sue me for hoping I might get it tonight.

The elevator pops open, revealing the very man I can’t stop thinking about, his head down as he examines the plethora of brightly colored packages swept up in his arms.

“Adam. Hey. I was just coming down to get those. You didn’t have to…” My words trail as his face slowly lifts, mouth hanging open, cheeks pink. At the same time I note the look in his eyes—intrigued, and yet, slightly scared—I note the faint buzzing sound coming from one of the packages.

Adam takes a step toward me, and I take one back, hand at my throat in case I need to squeeze it to stop from, oh, I don’t know, throwing up?

“What’s that?” I whisper, but I already know.

Adam takes another careful step toward me, then another, until I’m plastered against the wall. “Uh, the delivery guy…he was…and I was coming in to get you…and so I thought…” He opens his mouth, then pauses, brows pulled down like he’s lost for words. “And then I…and then this one…” He holds up the buzzing package, at least eight inches in length, hot pink with neon yellow letters that read FOR HER PLEASURE all over it. Adam swallows, and blood thunders in my ears. “It started…vibrating.”

“I didn’t buy those,” I blurt out. “I-I-I…I didn’t.” Adam’s mouth quirks, a tiny tug on one side, like he either doesn’t believe me or suddenly finds this horrific situation…endearing . And I don’t know why—I should be squeezing my throat, stopping it—but I go for it: word vomit. “Archie told me to and I said no but he-he-he never listens to me and I haven’t had an orgasm in a long time and never with another person.” My hands fly to my mouth, slapping over my gasp, eyes wide. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said that.”

I clear my throat, scooping the several packages out of Adam’s arms and into my own. “Excuse me for a moment.”

It starts a casual stroll back down the hall but turns into an angry, fast stomp.

“Figured you’d be back,” Archie mumbles when I burst through the door.

“You motherfucker,” I grit out, dropping the bundle on our kitchen table. Seven. There are seven. Fucking. Packages. “I hate you.”

“Mhmm. Tell me again after you give those a whirl.” He cocks his head at the buzzing sound. “You already turn one on?”

“No, Archie, I did not.” I pick up the vibrating package, trying to ignore how long this thing is. “Adam picked these up for me in the lobby, and this one started buzzing in his hands.”

He and Marco stare at each other for five silent seconds. Then they explode with laughter.

I let the pink package fly before I turn around, throwing my middle finger up over my shoulder when a satisfying thwack sounds as the package makes contact. “Fuck you very much.”

My silk panties have been wasted.

Okay, not a total waste. I feel sexy wearing them, and every time Adam’s hands grazed slowly up my thigh, the anticipation alone was worth it. It’s not as if I actually expected him to get touchy during a movie, with people around, even though it was dark and we were parked all the way at the back, so if he’d really wanted to, he could have . Just saying.

Now it’s midnight, we’re driving along a back road in the middle of nowhere, and the last place I want to go is home.

I can’t tear my gaze off Adam, one hand on the steering wheel, legs spread wide, his ebony curls ruffling in the breeze from the open window. He’s so relaxed, so at home, so freaking beautiful , and he’s here with me.

Adam looks over at me, the same way he’s been doing every thirty seconds, cobalt blue eyes alight. A gentle smile starts in the corners of his mouth before exploding into a cheek-splitting grin when he catches me staring. He reaches over, fingers spreading over my thigh, sliding achingly slowly up, up, up, until he reaches the hem of my dress and squeezes.

“Whatcha thinking about, pretty girl?”

“I’m not ready to go home.”

His eyes drop to my lips, skim down my arms, coast the length of my bare legs before coming back up to mine. “No?”

I shake my head.

“Not tired?”

“Not yet,” I breathe out.

“Mmm…”

My eyes hook on his middle finger, following its path as the tip drags slowly along my thigh, around my knee, coming back up the inside. All of the air is sucked out of the car, and my heart pounds a relentless beat in my chest before dropping between my legs.

“Hmm.” He steals his touch back, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. Leaning forward, he stares out the windshield, brows furrowed.

“What?”

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and hums. “Think we’re lost.”

“Lost?” I look around at the black night. In the light of the moon, all I can see are trees and never-ending fields. “Here?”

“Mhmm. Don’t know how that happened.” He pulls the truck over and cuts the ignition, leaving only the radio running. He fiddles with his phone before soft, slow music pours from the speakers, drenching the summer night air. “Might as well make the best of it,” he says with a sneaky smirk before he hops out.

I’m not sure what he means, but I watch with rapt attention as he rounds the hood, opens my door, holds his hand out to me.

“Dance with me, trouble.”

A giggle slips free, and Adam’s hands swallow my waist, lifting me from the truck. Long fingers tangle with mine, pulling me before the dim headlights, beneath the dancing stars above. He wraps one arm around my waist and smiles at me before tugging me into his chest, his lithe body swaying against mine as he hums along to the music.

“Can I tell you something?” he murmurs, sinking his hand into the hair at the back of my head, holding me close. “I’m never ready to say good night. Not to you, Rosie.” Soft lips touch the spot below my ear, nibble along the edge of my jaw before claiming my mouth. His tongue sweeps inside, slow, deep, purposeful, and so damn hot every inch of me singes with heat. “If I never had to close my eyes again, that’d be okay, so long as I could keep them on you. Can’t seem to take them off you whenever you’re around.”

I curl my fingers into his curls and try my best to hold on. “You can’t?”

He shakes his head. “I know what movie we saw, but I couldn’t tell you a damn thing that happened.” He pulls my hands from his hair, twining his fingers with mine and raising them above his head, spinning me out before pulling me right back in.

He twists a lock of hair around his pointer finger. “All I could see was the way you twined these waves around your fingers while you watched me from the corner of your eye.” His finger glides across my collarbone, dragging the strap of my dress off my shoulder, touching his lips to the freckles that live there. “The way the light from the screen danced along these shoulders.” With two fingers, he lifts my chin. “The way the moon shone in these eyes every damn time you smiled at me, like you were as happy to be there with me as I was with you. Fuck, I love these fucking eyes.”

His name leaves my lips on a whimper, and he wastes no time swallowing it, hands on my ass as he lifts me to him, my legs winding around his waist as he carries me around the truck. There’s a low thud , and my heartbeat trips when he drops me on his tailgate.

Adam’s hands land on either side of me, bracketing me in as he leans over me. “So you’re gonna need to tell me what that movie was about, because I sure as fuck don’t know. All I know is you, Rosie. And I think that’s all I want to know.”

I lick my lips, the look in his eyes heady and starved. “I don’t know,” I admit.

“No?”

“No. I wasn’t…I wasn’t watching either.”

“Mmm…” His gaze drops to my thighs, and they spread for him, inviting him in, closer. I see the pleased smile he tries to hide before he steps between them, hands gliding up my legs, fingertips dipping below my dress, grabbing my hips. “So then what were you doing?”

“I was…” Fire brews in my belly and dries my throat as he shifts my dress higher and higher. “Distracted.”

“Distracted by what?”

“Your hand—you were doing—you kept—” His warm palm slides down my thigh, thumb skimming the hem of my dress. A shuddering breath escapes my throat, and I sigh as my skin dots with goose bumps. “Yeah. That.”

He chuckles lowly, warm breath skittering across my bare shoulder as he presses his lips there, trailing his mouth toward my neck, along the slope, finding its way to my ear. “I’m sorry I’m a distraction. But it’s only fair, isn’t it? If I’m not watching, neither are you.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t…” My head drops between my shoulders as Adam pushes me back just a touch, one hand on my chest, the other wrapped around my bare hip as he opens his warm mouth against my neck. “I wasn’t making you…wild…by touching you.”

“Wild?”

“It was too much…and not enough. I wanted…” I gasp as he tugs the strap off my shoulder, slides his mouth along it, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before his tongue soothes the faint bite. “More. God, I wanted more.”

“Is that right?” he murmurs. “You wanted to be touched where anyone could’ve seen you?”

“I…I don’t know.” Is that what I wanted? Out in the open, under the fake security that blanketed us beneath the dark sky? Would I have let him?

I know as soon as the question skates across my mind that the answer is yes. Not just yes, but hell yes . I’ve never been bold. I’m used to blending in; disappearing, really. I’ve spent so many years unseen. With Adam, for the first time in so long, I feel seen. But it’s more than that. I don’t just feel seen; I feel like I’m the only person in his world when I’m with him.

So would I have cared about anyone else if he’d dared touch me tonight? No, I wouldn’t have.

“I just wanted to be touched by you.”

A rough growl rumbles from his chest, a hum of approval that vibrates so deep, I feel it in my belly and right down to my toes. His palms drag up my thighs, his touch so feral, like he’s bordering on unhinged. “Like this?”

My chest rises and falls sharply. “Yes.”

“And what about this?” Fingers slip beneath my panties, grabbing two handfuls of my ass, squeezing me closer.

“Yes.”

“And this, Rosie? Did you want me to touch you like this?” His hands glide over my hips, bracketing the juncture of my thighs, holding them open for him as his thumbs graze along the edge of my panties, over ultra-sensitive skin, making me squirm. He hooks a finger under my chin, forcing my gaze to his as the pad of his thumb skims over my clit, making it ache more than it already is.

“Adam,” I cry quietly, my head falling backward. His mouth finds my throat, and I feel his smile there, his pleasure.

“Yes, Rosie?”

“Please,” I whimper. “Touch me, please.”

It’s that six-letter word, I think, that pushes him over the edge. He wastes no time flipping my dress up, revealing my panties, the soaked spot decorating the center of the pink silk.

“Jesus,” he rumbles, a shuddering breath leaving his lips before he takes my mouth with a kiss that leaves us both breathless and hot.

With a punishing grip, he digs his fingers into my hips, hooks his thumbs into the waist of my panties, and guides them down my legs, slipping my sandals off in the process. He crushes the silk in his fist, eyes hooded and hooked on the action before he stuffs them in his pocket and comes right back, hands on mine as he nudges my nose with his and claims a kiss that belongs only to him.

“If you want me to stop—”

“God, Adam, please don’t fucking stop. I’ll beg you if I need to.”

He grins, and I’m struck by how boyish it is. Happy and so damn proud, just the right amount of cheeky arrogance. “As much as I wouldn’t mind hearing you beg, I’d rather give you anything and everything you want and need. You only have to tell me, and it’s yours.”

“It’s been a really long time,” I admit. “I want you to be gentle and patient, because I’m nervous. But mostly…” My hands slip up his corded arms, over his wide shoulders, curling into his soft curls as I brush my lips across his. “Mostly, I just want you.”

“I’m yours,” he tells me, right before he sinks his tongue into my mouth, lifts me to him. He grinds himself into me, and every inch of me short-circuits at the feel of him, the weight, the need . He needs me, wants me, as much as I do him.

“Oh God,” I whimper as he tugs my head back, teeth skimming the columns of my throat.

“Is this what you wanted?” Adam whispers as his mouth moves across my collarbone, one hand finding my breast. “To be touched in the back of my truck?”

“Yes,” I cry out as he nips the delicate skin on my shoulder, his tongue lashing over it, sealing it with pleasure. The pad of his thumb scrapes over my nipple, burning right through my dress when he squeezes and rolls it, and I rake my nails down his arms. “Adam .”

“Would you have made all these noises? Let people hear you?” Hot breath rolls down my neck, making me shiver as his teeth graze my ear. “They would’ve wanted to see. See the gorgeous girl come undone just for me.” He grips my hips and yanks me to the edge of the truck bed before spreading my thighs wide.

“Thing is, Rosie…” His eyes drop, lock on the spot between my legs, the one that shows him how badly I crave him, and a wicked smirk tugs at his mouth. “I don’t like to share.” He swipes two fingers along my slit, gathering my wetness and making me gasp. Then he sinks them in his mouth, slow, savoring, and when he licks his lips, I’m sure I’ve died and gone to heaven. “They can’t have your noises.” He sinks a single, broad finger inside, and my head falls back, lips parting on a whimper. Adam tangles his fingers in my hair, pulling my gaze back to his as he works his finger in and out. “They can’t have your mouth, the way it opens just for me.” His thumb finds my clit, a firm pressure with a slow, torturous roll, and when my begging eyes hook on his, he grins. “And they sure as shit can’t have your eyes.” His mouth meets mine with another brain-melting kiss before the next words tumble out, low, promising, and so damn rough. “Because I’m not. Fucking. Sharing.”

“Ohhh God .” I shove my hands through the sleeves of his T-shirt and grip his bare shoulders below, fingernails digging in as I cling to him, and maybe sanity too.

“Just Adam is fine,” he whispers, that low voice dipped in mirth, a certain smugness that’s so rare from him but so beautiful too.

My hips move, lifting, rolling, chasing the friction of his hand, begging for more , and harder , and please , and fuck does he ever listen, giving me everything I want and more, until I’m panting, ready to combust.

“Jesus, listen to you. And you were gonna give them these noises?” He cocks his head, tsking. “No, these are all mine, trouble.”

“All yours,” I barely manage, sinking my fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging his forehead down to mine as I start to unravel.

“Fuck.” His brows furrow, and he closes his eyes, gives his head a tiny shake. “Didn’t think it was possible.”

I press my lips to his, coaxing his eyes open. “What?”

The pad of his thumb scrapes across my lower lip. “For you to get any more beautiful. But here you are, looking up at me like that, your lips swollen and red, your hair a mess, and you, so…” Electric blue eyes dip, roaming over me with a wild intensity that sets fire to my skin. “So fuckin’ flushed . Like you can’t get enough. Like you’re coming alive.” He pushes a second finger inside, making me shake as his thumb rubs my clit, then swallows my gasp with his mouth. “Beautiful isn’t enough, Rosie. You’re fucking immaculate.”

And here’s the most incredible thing: I believe him .

I tell myself that’s why the pit low in my stomach begins to bloom, why my spine starts to shake and my toes curl, despite never getting this far with Brandon. Because on top of the mind-blowing pleasure he’s delivering, it’s the confidence, the powerful sensation that comes with feeling so wanted. Treasured. Seen .

It’s been too long since anyone has seen me.

“Was I dreaming earlier when you said you’ve never orgasmed with anyone?”

I whip my head side to side as my thighs begin to quiver. “Never.”

“Mmm. That’s a fucking crime.” He watches me with a barely contained hunger as I lean back on my hands, and when my head rolls over my shoulders, he clamps his mouth over my neck, dragging it up my throat until it finds my ear. “The second you come on my fingers, this pussy is mine.”

Holy mother of —yup, that’ll do it. Adam knows, too, because he gets this smirk on his face, halfway to wicked.

“Ready, pretty girl?” He chuckles, a dark, gruff sound that grates against the hollow of my collarbone as he traces it with his lips. “Silly question, huh? The way you’re suffocating my fingers and clawing at my shoulders tells me so.”

His fingers slide into the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling my head taut as he curls the fingers inside me and whispers, “Come, Rosie,” against my mouth, and I let him throw me right off the edge of the cliff.

It feels like I’m falling, drowning, and right at the last second, he pulls me up and breathes life back into me, his lips on mine as he swallows my cries.

A satisfied moan grates in his throat as I ride his fingers, rock against the waves of pleasure that beat like heavy rain inside me as Adam’s mouth moves against mine, murmuring that word he promised, the only word I want to hear.

“Mine .”

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