The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 44

Chapter 44: 44 | The Interruption and the Interrogation

She nibbled my earlobe. Her hand slid up my chest, fingers curling into my shirt. Her other hand found my face, turning my head toward her so she could kiss me properly.

The movie played on. Explosions and gunfire and dramatic orchestral music. None of it registered.

My right hand moved higher between her thighs. The loose cotton shorts she wore had ridden up completely from how she was sitting, bunched at the top of her legs. I felt bare skin. Smooth and hot and impossibly soft.

Then lace.

She was wearing lace panties too. Just like Diane. Thin and delicate and already damp.

Oh fuck.

Sloane moaned into my mouth. Her tongue found mine, aggressive and demanding in a way that matched everything else about her personality. She kissed like she fought. Full commitment. No hesitation. Taking what she wanted without asking permission.

My fingers traced the edge of her panties. Found where the fabric curved between her legs. Pressed gently against the damp lace.

She broke the kiss with a gasp. Her forehead dropped against my shoulder. Her hips rolled forward into my touch, seeking more pressure, more contact, more everything.

"Lukas," she breathed. "Please."

〘 Sloane Fitzgerald – Temptation Gauge: 63% (+3%)

Status: Highly aroused, actively seeking escalation, boundaries dissolved, maternal absence optimal window

Recommendation: Continue current approach. Subject vocalization will increase. Maintain awareness of external factors. 〙

Sixty-three percent.

My fingers pressed harder against her panties. Rubbed in slow circles over the damp fabric. She made another sound, higher pitched this time, her teeth finding my shoulder through my shirt.

"You’re going to leave marks," I said.

"Good."

Her hand slid down my chest. Down my stomach. Found the waistband of my sweatpants.

Oh no.

"Sloane—"

"Fair’s fair." Her fingers dipped below the elastic. "You’re touching me. I’m touching you."

This was spiraling. This was going places I hadn’t planned for. Places I definitely wasn’t prepared for.

Her hand wrapped around my dick.

Skin on skin. No fabric between us. Just her palm and fingers and the reality that Sloane Fitzgerald was currently jerking me off under a blanket while Victor Sterling saved the world ten feet away on a movie screen.

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Could barely process what was happening except that her hand was moving now, stroking slowly from base to tip in a way that suggested she’d thought about this before. Practiced the motion in her head. Knew exactly what she was doing.

"You’re bigger than I thought you’d be," she whispered against my neck.

That sentence was going to live in my brain forever.

My fingers slipped under the edge of her panties. Found bare skin. Found heat and wetness and the reality that I was about to finger Sloane in a home theater while her mother was in the bathroom down the hall.

She gasped when my fingers made contact. Her hand on my dick tightened, strokes getting faster, less controlled. Her hips rolled against my touch, seeking more pressure, more depth.

"Inside," she breathed. "Please. I need—"

The bathroom door opened down the hall.

We both froze.

Sloane’s hand was in my sweatpants. My fingers were under her panties. We were pressed together under a blanket like teenagers caught making out in their parents’ basement.

Which was basically accurate except we were seventeen and this was definitely more than making out.

Footsteps in the hallway. Coming closer.

"Shit," Sloane hissed. She pulled her hand out of my sweatpants so fast she almost took skin with her. "Act normal."

Normal. Right. Because there was a normal way to sit when you’d just had your hand wrapped around your housemate’s dick three seconds ago.

I yanked my hand out from between her legs. She adjusted her position, putting space between us that looked casual instead of panicked. The blanket stayed over both of us, hiding evidence of recent activity.

Diane walked back into the theater room.

She looked at us. Her gaze moved from Sloane to me and back again. Assessing. Reading the room with her Aspect and whatever other supernatural mom powers she possessed.

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