Sunk in Love deleted scene

Surprise slutty bonus scene drop! (please do not read if we are related)

I know I said I wouldn’t be back for a good and long while and I fully meant that, but the other day I was reminded of a scene I deleted from Sunk in Love ( in ye olden days of 2024 before my editor ever saw it) and the sluts (affectionate) over on Threads said they wanted to read it, so here it is!

This scene was originally right after Roslyn goes to the pool when they first get to the ship, and directly before her and Liam meet her family for dinner. I cut the scene due to pacing and feedback that it didn’t advance the plot (lol) but it still lives on in my slutty little heart and can now live on in yours too!

please enjoy some of my favorite memes I've come across lately

Warning: The following scene contains NSFW content *I have to put this after my in-laws read it

After I’ve finished my drink and am fairly certain I’ve surpassed the first stages of a tan and gone straight to sunburn territory, I check the time and see that it’s nearly five. Which means it’s time to head back so Liam and I can meet my family for dinner.

I’m just pushing the cabin door open when I catch the tail end of a groan followed by the sound of… clapping?

Frowning, I step into the cabin.

“Liam––?” But the rest of my sentence dies when my eyes find Liam. Liam, who is hunched on the bed, eyes closed, face flushed, little beads of perspiration gathered along his hairline, with his hands wrapped around his dick. Liam, who is mid-stroke.

I wish that my first instinct was to look away. To turn and run. Maybe even scream in horror. Instead, against all sense of self preservation, my gaze skates from the tiny beads of sweat clinging to his neck, straight down to his cock. His hard cock.

Heat centralizes in my core, setting flame to the spark that’s been there since the moment on the airplane.

It’s not so much that I’m seeing his dick––a dick I’m as familiar with as the mole on the inside of my left wrist––it’s the fact that after years of basically unrestricted access to said dick, I’m no longer supposed to see it. Or him. Like this. So vulnerable. So needy. So compromised. I’m not supposed to see how feral he looks right now. How utterly unraveled. And I’m definitely not supposed to like it.

I continue to gawk until Liam yells, Jesus Roslyn! and zips himself back into his pants. Which is when reality washes over me in thick, sobering streaks and I realize that I’ve just been staring at my ex’s dick. No, caught staring at my ex’s dick. Which is infinitely worse.

I blink away, hoping he mistakes the blush in my cheeks for shock and not arousal.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand.

There’s about two seconds where he looks like he might be embarrassed, but his expression quickly morphs into frustration. “What does it look like? It was a long flight. I needed to release some tension.”

My skin crackles with heat. Does he mean tension, like annoyance tension? Or a different kind of tension?

I think back to the moment in the airplane bathroom. The one when he’d pinned me with a hungry stare. When he’d looked at me the way he used to. Like he wanted me. But I quickly pump the breaks on that question. Do not ask questions you don’t want answers to.

“Well can you not do that while we’re here?” I say. “If we’re going to make this work, I need to know I’m not going to walk in on you…you know…” My blush intensifies. “Releasing tension.”

His eyebrow lifts towards his hairline. “So I assume you’ll do the same?”

I frown. “The same what?”

He looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on the space just below my mouth. “That you’ll also abstain from…” He pauses and his jaw ticks. “Releasing tension while we’re here?”

My cheeks burn at the implications of that statement. That Liam might find me with my hands between my legs, vulnerable and needy. That he might catch me on the brink of orgasm.

I think about all the nights my brain wandered to him and how it made my hands wander too. How even when I didn’t want to, it was still his name on my lips every time I made myself come. But I don’t want him to know that.

“Of course,” I lie. “No problem.” Then, just to be a little cunty, I add, “I can behave myself.”

He raises one eyebrow like he’s not sure he believes me. And honestly, same. If memories of him were enough to get me off, I’m terrified what the real thing might do.

“Good for you,” he says tersely. “Glad you can behave, Roslyn.”

I hate the way his mouth wraps around the word, the way it feels like the lick of a flame. Or maybe a challenge. And I plead with myself to not overthink what that might mean.

We hold one another’s gazes for three heavy beats longer, our eyes drawn like a duel, before I say, “We’re already late for dinner with my family. So maybe we can talk about masturbation habits later?”

He checks his watch, his eyes widening when he sees the time. “Shit.” Then he hops off the bed and disappears into the bathroom.

“Make sure you wash your hands!” I yell after him, but the door slams, cutting off the end of my sentence.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it means to miss my characters. After a book comes out, it’s exciting to see people read and engage with it, but there’s also this sense of loss. This feeling that the book no longer belongs to me in the way it has. It’s no longer mine to shape and deconstruct and tinker with. Now it’s behind a glass case to be looked at, but not touched. So I think that’s what I mean when I say I miss my characters. I’m yearning for somewhere I can no longer return to. But getting to return to this scene (even a silly one!) was a fun and meaningful way for me to recapture some of the joy I felt while working on this book 🥹🫶

Okay that’s all from me! If you didn’t get a chance to read the Jack’s POV scenes as a preorder bonus, worry not, I will be posting them here soon-ish!

Friendly reminder that Sunk in Love comes out in paperback in the UK on Tuesday, but you can still preorder it for 25% off (today is the last day of the sale!!!) at Waterstones with code Feb26

ily bye!

Heather xx