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Chapter 29

twenty-nine

SIX WEEKS LATER

Emma sighed contentedly as she blinked her eyes open for the first time of the day and snuggled in close to Regan.

Which wasn't difficult, given how they typically were wrapped up in one another upon waking up for the day. Unsurprisingly, Regan was an intense cuddler. Surprisingly, Emma didn't mind it.

Even more surprisingly, she often found herself cuddling in close to Regan, much like this morning. She was spooning Regan from behind, the contours of their bodies aligning, from their slightly bent legs, to the way Regan's butt was cradled in Emma's lap, to how Regan's back was pressed against Emma's front, with Emma's arm draped over her waist.

It felt so… normal. Alarmingly normal, to wake up with the fresh, minty scent of Regan's shampoo in her nose, the soft feeling of Regan's sheets surrounding her. Emma's own pillows were now in Regan's bed, because she had a very specific preference for neck support.

For the first few weeks into their relationship, she'd kept her own bedding in her own room, but in the last month she'd given in. The reality was that she hadn't slept in her own bed in… Emma didn't even remember, at this point.

She'd valiantly tried at the beginning to maintain some semblance of boundaries and distance, if only just a little. It was hard from the get-go, given that they lived together and – without Emma even realizing how intensely – their day-to-day lives were so entangled.

But she figured she'd probably still at least sleep in her own room at least a few days a week.

Even after the first few weeks, she'd deluded herself into believing it. It truly wasn't until after Regan had told Emma that she loved her that Emma had to just be honest with herself.

She wasn't going to sleep by herself at night in her own room. Definitely not after having sex with Regan. Not on the nights they didn't have sex, either. What in the world was appealing about walking away from being with her girlfriend to go to sleep in her room, alone, when Regan was a hallway away?

Contrary and grumpy as Emma could be, she wasn't stupid. Why would she want to punish them both?

Also, her room didn't have that –

The Modern Family – Mothers and Daughters by Emma Bordeaux

The printed and framed story that Regan had hung up proudly on her wall two weeks ago. Allegra had not only accepted her piece, praised it, and published it, but she'd also encouraged Emma to continue submitting to Olly!

And Regan had made a countdown that she'd hung up in their living room until the day Emma's piece had gone live, before immediately framing it. Oh, but not only did she frame this one, but also one for Gram and Kimberly, as well.

She dropped an affectionate kiss to the soft skin of Regan's neck.

Surprise filtered through her when she felt Regan shiver against her lips, and she drew back a few inches to look down.

Yep, Regan had goosebumps. She heard Regan sigh, before she felt the press of Regan's ass roll firmly backward into her.

Fascinated by her girlfriend's response to a kiss Emma had considered fairly innocuous – innocent, even – she dipped her head down to kiss Regan again, dragging her lips lightly over the soft skin of the side of Regan's neck.

"Emma," Regan breathed, rolling her hips back again. This time, more insistently. Deliberately pressing against Emma's hips.

"Are you awake?" She whispered, surprise filtering through her.

Regan sometimes woke up before Emma did, but she didn't usually stay all cuddled up and warm and languid against Emma like this. She almost always stayed in bed, but she would typically be on her phone and texting Sutton or scrolling social media or even making Topped Off schedules or typing out an idea for a recipe. She'd be quiet and respectful while letting Emma continue to sleep, but once Regan was awake, her mind was moving a mile a minute.

"Mhmm," Regan hummed, stroking her fingertips up Emma's forearm that was draped around her waist. She then scratched as she moved her hand back down, and Emma found herself shivering. "Been waiting for you to wake up."

"You're being awfully polite about it… very unlike you," Emma teased, speaking against the side of Regan's throat. The feeling of Regan's skin against her moving lips made them tingle, and she loved that feeling.

"I'm polite," Regan countered, an offended tone in her voice, circling her fingers around Emma's wrist, and squeezing. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind Emma about the thrill Regan always got when she held Emma down.

Or when Emma held her down. Unsurprisingly, Regan liked to give just as well as she got, and she liked to get just as well as she gave. There was nothing – so far – they'd ventured into when it came to sex that Regan didn't want to explore.

"You are not polite when you want me to wake up," Emma disagreed, still. She couldn't help herself from nipping her teeth into Regan's neck – lightly, teasingly, but a reminder that Emma knew she was right about this.

Regan groaned, the sound husky and deep in her throat. "Well, that's because usually I'm not waking you up so that you can touch me and make me come; I felt like waking you up for that would be pervy."

Heat licked at her, starting between her thighs as her clit pulsed to life at Regan's words. "You've been laying here, awake, thinking about me touching you?"

She was no longer surprised by how forthright Regan was in saying how much she wanted her. She sometimes was surprised by how fucking strongly her body reacted to it, though.

"Mm," Regan hummed again, nodding against the pillow.

Anticipating Regan's next move, Emma rocked her hips into Regan's ass the next time she pushed herself back into Emma.

And, yeah, the pulsing between her legs was already strong enough that she felt it. Even though the contact wasn't right on her clit, the pressure of Regan's ass pushing against her provided Emma just enough to push the heat inside of her up to a solid simmer.

"I had this dream," Regan started, her voice raw and needy.

"What happened in this dream?" Emma asked, already feeling a little breathless, as she tightened her hold over Regan's waist and deliberately pressed into her ass.

Regan placed her hand over the back of Emma's and laced their fingers together. Then she used her guiding touch to work Emma's hand under the loose T-shirt Regan had worn to bed.

" You happened," she rasped. "You made me come over and over again, and I woke up so… wanting. So fucking wet."

As she spoke, Regan slowly slid Emma's hand down under the waist of the tiny, thin shorts she had on.

Closing her eyes, Emma reveled in the feeling of Regan's body under her touch. How warm she was, how soft. How Regan seemed to strain back against her, yearning for Emma's touch. How she always gave herself to Emma without hesitation, and how being on the receiving end of that obvious desire was the sexiest thing Emma had ever fucking experienced.

Her own breath caught in her throat as Regan pushed Emma's hand down, down, and finally, both of their fingers brushed against Regan's hard clit.

"You weren't kidding," Emma murmured, groaning at the feeling of Regan absolutely soaking her fingertips at the slightest touch.

"Would have been the worst joke ever," Regan grit back, her voice edging into a needy whine, as she rolled her hips back again.

This time, as her ass pressed against Emma, she swore she felt it right against her clit. Need sparked through her, as she worked her fingers over Regan's hard clit in slow circles. A move that she knew wouldn't make Regan come – she needed Emma to move a lot faster – but would drive her crazy.

Regan lifted her leg up to hook over Emma's thigh, giving Emma more freedom to actually touch her.

She slid her fingers down, pressing only her fingertips at Regan's entrance. She knew, now, that Regan did love to be filled, that she loved taking Emma's fingers inside of her. But that her favorite thing about it was right as Emma started to push inside, that initial feeling.

Pressing open-mouthed kisses against Regan's throat, she fucked her slowly and shallowly. She avoided Regan's clit deliberately, even as Regan started truly moaning.

It was Emma's favorite thing, the thing that made her absolutely, utterly crazy with her own need. Those sounds that Regan let out, loud and bold and unashamed, these sounds that told Emma just how much Regan wanted her. How lost she was in her pleasure.

Every time, it took her back to that first night. Every time, Emma thought about how these fucking sounds had gripped something inside of Emma and pushed her forward into their relationship.

Her own – much softer, but no less desperate – cries escaped the back of her throat as she rocked her hips against Regan. She'd never be able to come like this, but that didn't matter.

For Emma, right in this moment, it wasn't about coming. It was about the fact that she couldn't control this desire. That her clit was aching and needy, and Regan felt so fucking good against her.

"Emma, god , come on. My – you know what I–"

As the keening sounds Regan let out became more desperate, in turn making Emma more desperate, the thought struck her.

She pressed her body firmly into Regan's back, using her own strength to roll Regan onto her stomach, trapping her hand between Regan and the mattress.

Even though she had far less range of motion like this, it didn't matter. All she needed to do was be able to touch Regan's clit, exactly like she was now, slowly working her fingers over it.

Regan was so wet, she didn't have much friction, and she was pulsing so hard that Emma felt it, and she groaned, before biting at Regan's shoulder.

She felt Regan shudder, hard, under her, bucking her hips up at Emma. Then she immediately pushed back down, clearly seeking out as much pressure on her clit as possible.

"Yes, fuck, Emma, yes !" Regan pressed her face down into the bed, rocking down against the bed – against Emma's hand – so hard.

"I remember you said this was what you thought about, that first night on the phone," Emma panted out, bracing herself with her free hand. Using it to give herself enough leverage so that she could keep rolling her hips down against Regan's ass.

This angle wasn't only better for Regan, but herself. Balancing on her knees and spreading her thighs to bracket Regan, Emma's eyes rolled back with pleasure as she got the first hint of actual contact to her own clit.

Regan nodded, jerkily, as she gasped. "Yeah, this – you – uh-huh."

If Emma had any wherewithal, she might be amused at Regan's incoherence. But, as it was, she was almost just as far gone, herself.

"Fuck yourself against me, then," she demanded. "Just like you imagined."

Regan inhaled sharply, before she released a long, rasping moan, and erratically rolled her hips down. Harder, faster, and Emma's hand was soaked and –

"Yes! I'm – Emma!" Regan cried out, her throat sounding raw with pleasure, as she started shuddering under Emma.

She rocked down so hard that Emma couldn't move her hand at all, and she didn't give a damn. All she could possibly care about was that Regan was coming for her, coming on her, so hard.

She watched and felt Regan's orgasm start to subside, her movements becoming slower and more relaxed, until Regan finally sighed and melted onto the bed under her.

Emma's throat was dry, and her own clit was so hard, and she was so wet, she could feel her own sleep shorts sticking to the tops of her inner thighs. Thighs that were already trembling.

Not for the first time, she considered herself the luckiest woman on earth. Because Regan's rebound period after coming was almost nonexistent, and she'd come to learn that Regan was rarely ever exhausted by an orgasm. If anything, coming seemed to reinvigorate her.

So, so lucky , as Regan arched her hips up and let Emma slide her hand out, and then flipped herself over onto her back in the same breath.

Regan stared up at her, her face flushed, and her dark eyes bright and gleaming.

Emma couldn't even manage a cogent sentence right now, but she didn't have to. Because Regan moved so quickly, Emma could hardly register it.

But Regan slid her hand down into the waist of Emma's shorts, immediately seeking out Emma's clit.

Apparently, Regan wasn't in the mood for teasing or playing games this morning, and Emma was so fucking grateful for that.

She rolled her hips down hard into Regan's hand, already starting to shudder and throb from the way Regan rolled her fingers over her clit.

Still braced over Regan, she looked down at her. Watching Regan as Regan watched Emma's body.

She hadn't worn a shirt to sleep, her stomach and breasts were completely bare, and Regan stared at her, transfixed.

Emma moaned, tossing her head back as the need to come wound tighter and tighter inside of her. She felt no shame, not even the faintest hint of insecurity under Regan's intent gaze. It only made this hot, aching, close feeling build higher and higher inside of her.

She worked her hips harder, feeling viscerally satisfied at the way Regan's mouth fell open on a whimper.

Regan worked her hand down, pressing two fingers inside of Emma's clenching walls, as she firmly pressed her palm to Emma's clit, and –

"Fuck!" She cried out, her orgasm crashing over her.

All she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears, and her thighs shook, as the pleasure wracked through her.

Just before that pleasure turned to discomfort, Regan gently slid her fingers out of Emma. She jerked, then caught her breath as Regan lightly brushed against her clit – yeah, that was the last ounce of pleasure – before she pulled her hand out of Emma's sleep shorts.

She dropped down next to Regan on the bed, still catching her breath, as she felt Regan cuddle in close to her.

As her heart rate finally returned to normal, Emma let out a long, deep breath. She knew – knowing Regan – that morning conversation was due to start any second now.

"So, what's on the agenda today?" Regan asked.

Emma's lips curled into a smile – bingo.

Before that smile immediately faltered as she recalled the thought she'd very intently been pushing to the back of her mind for the last couple of days.

"I should probably start looking for apartments," she said, quietly.

She knew she wasn't imagining things when Regan took a second longer to respond than she normally would. "Oh. Right."

"I mean, it's officially November. Sutton's due back in December…" She trailed off, logic filling in the gaps.

The agreement had always been that Emma would find her own place at the end of Sutton's internship. She'd signed it in the roommate contract. Obviously , Sutton was going to need to move back to her apartment.

So, she needed to find a place to move into by December.

"Yeah," Regan whispered.

Emma's stomach twisted unpleasantly, and she drew in a deep breath. Taking in the scent of Regan's shampoo and laundry detergent, the way it had blended with Emma's in their bed. She slowly glanced around, looking at the organized chaos of Regan's room. At the map she had on the wall that she'd drawn, at that framed story Emma had written. At her plants. At her desk, where Emma's laptop was now perched. The desk chair, where Emma had draped Regan's Brandeis sweatshirt after she'd tugged it off before bed last night.

She licked her lips, her heart thudding, as she admitted softly, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I don't want to go."

Five months ago, she'd never have imagined she'd feel this way. If someone told Emma that the idea of not seeing Regan every day, of giving up this shared existence they'd created, would make her throat feel tight with emotion…

Well, she'd have laughed in their face.

"It's a great apartment," Regan's tone was so obviously glum, even as she tried to interject some levity into it.

Emma turned to look at Regan, who was worrying her teeth into that full bottom lip. "It's a great person in the apartment," she corrected. "A person I love."

Regan's smile was immediate, as she reached out and traced her fingers over Emma's cheekbone, all the way back to tuck hair behind her ear.

Then she froze, brown eyes widening, as she shook her head. "Why do you have to go?"

"What?" Emma frowned. "It's – that was the deal."

She could feel the energy vibrating through Regan, as she shook her head and refuted Emma's statement. "Deals change. You don't want to leave. I definitely don't want you to go. So – just, don't."

Emma couldn't help the exasperated laugh that bubbled up, even as she rubbed at her temples. God help her, she loved this woman.

"It's not just about what you and I want," she reminded her. "Sutton's going to probably want her room back–"

"Move into mine!" Regan excitedly cut her off, gesturing widely around the room. "It's bigger than Sutton's. You barely have that much stuff; we can fit your bookshelves over there." She pointed to the other side of her room, to her empty wall space. "And you can put your obsessive schedule on the wall in front of the desk! Clothing is the biggest issue, but I'll make you the space!"

Emma still frowned, shaking her head in disbelief.

Regan wasn't having it. "You basically already live in here, anyway, hot stuff."

"It's not up to me ," she stressed, again. "It's – even if I moved into this room, we can't unilaterally just…"

Regan already had her phone in her hands, thumbs flying over the screen. "Asking Sutton now!" She needlessly informed Emma.

Sitting up, Emma scrubbed her hands over her face, trying desperately to wrap her mind around the turn this conversation had rapidly taken.

"Aha!" Regan's cry was triumphant, and she held her phone out for Emma to read it.

Regan – 9:58AM

SUTTON, MY DARLING LADYBUG, I HAVE TO ASK YOU SOMETHING

What do you think about Emma… not moving out? Like, if you move back and you get your room back and everything. But what if Emma moved into my room? And we all were living here????

Sutton, the One and Only – 9:59AM

You mean, another person in our home that thinks rationally and can help me corral you? Someone that has housebroken you and trained you to use a shared calendar? Sounds amazing, actually

"It sounds amazing!" Regan practically bounced where she sat.

Emma continued to stare down at the phone for several beats, as this rapidly forming reality started to set in. The weight of the dread and trepidation she'd started feeling in the last few days over the idea of having to move started lifting from her shoulders, and she turned to look at Regan.

Who was staring at her, questioningly, the bright smile on her face dimming ever-so-slightly. "I mean… I'm not trying to strong arm you into this," she quickly added, shaking her head vehemently. "Just, if you really meant that you didn't want to go, this is an option, and–"

"I think Sutton might be sorely disappointed," Emma interjected, softly but firmly. "Because I don't think that I think all that rationally around you, anymore. Somehow, you've made me think that me moving into your room is completely rational and makes the most sense, in a matter of minutes."

No, when it came to Regan, Emma didn't think logically; she'd been completely sucked in.

The wondrous grin that slid across Regan's face was absolutely gorgeous. "If you give me long enough, I'll grow on you. I should have warned you that from the beginning."

"The ultimate snowball effect," she agreed, leaning in to press her lips to Regan's and revel in the insanity.

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