Another slutty little Sunk in Love 'Bone-us' scene

a deleted scene + updates from the rock I've been living under

If you are related to me, please don’t read any further (I’m talking to you, Dave!) Continue only at your own risk! NFSW content ahead.

To the rest of you sluts, greetings!

This scene originally happened after Liam and Roslyn fall asleep holding hands (“don’t let go. I won’t.”) but that was before I moved the nightmare scene, which originally happened a lot later in the story (If this all sounds confusing IT WAS). Once I made that change this scene no longer felt tonally right, so it got cut (rip)

Ngl I like the *vibes* of this scene, so if you see remnants of this in another book somewhere down the line just know it got recycled! Which is something I do a lot tbh!

Okay, without further ado, here’s the deleted scene:

I’ve dreamed about Liam before.

In the weeks after he left, I used to have the same dream over and over. Him, on top of me, kissing my neck, peeling off my clothes, whispering how bad he wanted me. Then, just when I couldn’t take it anymore, I’d reach for him, begging, only to find he wasn’t there, and I was alone.

There were plenty of nights I wore out my vibrator trying to sooth the ache between my thighs when I woke up from yet another Liam dream/nightmare. But this isn’t a dream. Liam’s warm hand splayed across my low back is very real. As is the heavy pace of hot breath grazing my cheek.

Somewhere in the blurry recess of my half-asleep brain, I know I shouldn’t, but I’m either still drunk, or just Liam-starved enough to let myself burrow against his chest where he’s warm and solid and familiar. Where it’s easy to remember what it was like to have access to his body. To fall asleep in his arms, lulled by the gentle rhythm of his breath and the sedative weight of his skin against mine. Where he still feels a little bit like mine.

He shifts in his sleep and the hand that’s on my low back slides lower, hovering just above my ass. He’s asleep, I tell myself. He’s not cognizant. Neither of us are. But as his fingers dance along the narrow slice of skin between my hemline and the waistband of my shorts, suddenly I’m not so sure.

His touch is just fumbling enough for there to be plausible deniability––surely he’s just moving in his sleep––but there’s a neediness to it that says otherwise.

A neediness I feel too. An ache born of deprivation.

Hot fingers travel under my shirt, tracing familiar stretches of skin along my ribs, then higher, just below my breast. I arch into him, my body pleading and searching. He does the same, his breath hot on my throat, his hands heavy on my waist.

There’s still time to stop, I think. To pull back. To uncross whatever lines we’ve already crossed. But I don’t want to. I want to live in this liminal space between past and present. Between then and now. I want to hold onto a few more seconds where he’s not a dream or a memory. Where he’s real.

We move like a kind of dance, trading touches that are a little too eager, a little too needy to be accidents, until his thumb brushes the peak of my nipple, and my breath stiffens into a gasp––sharp and too loud to ignore.

I expect it to break the trance. To pull us both from this slippery haze. Instead, the moment calcifies as he palms my ribcage, all ten fingers splayed against my bare skin, and pulls me between his legs. I can feel him straining against his boxers, and I wrap one thigh around his torso, digging my nails into his back as I grind against him, desperate for more heat, more friction, more of my body touching more of his.

A gorgeous, tormented groan falls from his mouth as his lips catch the side of my neck. A hot swipe of tongue on skin. Then another. And another. I’m breathing harder now. We both are. Tentative touches turning into hungry grasp as I wind my hand around his neck, urging him closer—both thankful and frustrated by the layers of clothing still between us.

His hips hitch against mine, a thrusting motion I’m all too familiar with. And it terrifies me how badly I want more. How sharp and seismic my want feels. How desperate I am. For him. For his touch. For the sounds I know he could pull out of me if only I’d let him. For all the messes he’d make of me if only I were to ask.

But buried under all that want is a cold, tenable click of logic. The reality that I can’t. We can’t. Because he’s not mine anymore and I’m not his, and as much as I want to give in, to let myself get swept up in him, it’s all kinds of bad ideas, ones that will be a lot harder to explain come morning when we’re both sober and awake, no longer cloaked in darkness and excuses. So I allow one more breath to pass between us before I pull back, extracting myself from the heat of his body.

I wait for him to say something. To call me on it. Something he’s well within his right to do. But he doesn’t. All that comes is the creak of the mattress and a shift in his breath. And I wonder if I’ve mistaken the whole thing for another dream.

If only I had.

Greetings from the rock I’ve been living under!

I’ve been off socials for more than ten weeks and it’s been absolutely glorious. I didn’t realize just how badly I needed to untangle my brain from all the complex emotions that come with putting yourself “out there” and performing “cool” for the attention economy. I already feel so much more emotionally regulated.

What I’ve been reading lately:

I LOVE romance (duh) but reading within the genre does come with a lot of emotional burdens (like comparison!), so I decided to gift my brain a break and read outside the genre for a bit!

Here’s some of contemporary fiction I’ve enjoyed lately:

Half His Age (I really enjoyed Jennette McCurdy’s memoir so I was eager to pick this one up!!)

Margot’s Got Money Troubles (immensely entertaining, sharp, perceptive and irreverent. I’m very excited to watch Nick Offerman as Jinx in the tv adaptation)

The Future Saints (a beautiful exploration of grief with Daisy Jones and the Six vibes)

Once and Again (I am a Rebecca Serle fan!!!! A gorgeous mediation on womanhood and the passage of time. This is going to be a contender for my favorite book of the year!)

What else I’ve been up to:

I’ve been writing! A lot! Since I’ve been off socials, I’ve settled into what I like to think of as my creative sweet spot which is when I work on two books simultaneously. Whenever I get burnt out or stuck in one I switch to the other and get re-energized. Currently I’m in a later stage revision of one project while drafting another and it’s been really nice to bounce between two different projects in different stages of development. My brain is very happy right now.

Hopefully I’ll get to share more about one of these projects soon (read: eventually)! I’m very excited to introduce L&T, the newest sluts in the Heather McBreen Universe! So stay tuned!

forever your slut,

Heather xx