29. Lizzie
29
LIZZIE
W hen I wake up the next morning, I know something’s up. I’m way too comfortable and rested. My sleep-addled brain remembers my baby, and I sit up with a gasp. “Oh, my God, Isaac! I missed his midnight feeding!”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Next to me, Dillan pulls me back down, spooning me from behind. “Don’t worry, I took care of it. And his early morning feeding too. He’s sleeping.”
Relief floods my body, and I let myself sink back against him.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I ask him.
“I figured you needed your rest, considering how much I wore you out last night.”
I can hear the smug smirk in his voice, even though I can’t see his face. My body warms at the memory of his touch. I’m still naked, while he slipped into a pair of boxers at some point. Even still, I arch my backside against his groin seductively.
“Mmm, that you did,” I purr, finding his hand under the blanket and bringing it up to my breast. “Maybe you can wear me out some more?”
“You want some more of this beast? Hell, yeah.” His lips descend to my throat, and I immediately moan at the gentle slew of kisses. In the back of my mind, an all-too-familiar memory of waking up alone threatens to take over, but I push it aside.
I don’t have to think about that anymore. Dillan isn’t going anywhere. He made that exceptionally clear the moment I told him about Isaac. More importantly, I know in my heart that Isaac isn’t the only reason.
He has feelings for me, and while he hasn’t told me so, I can sense it, and just the thought is enough to make me giddy like a schoolgirl.
Working so much has put a strain on our new relationship, but Dillan never makes me feel bad about it. He never guilts me or forces me to choose between him and work. He’s always there to lend a hand. His concern for me is genuine and comes from the heart.
Granted, he’s still in the dark about my job at Sinner’s Lounge.
And the fact that I used to grace the stage as a burlesque dancer? I just haven’t found the perfect moment to drop that bomb on him.
Yesterday seemed like the perfect opportunity—hence the whole stripper set-up—but then he put his hands on me, and then his lips, and things got so hot, and suddenly I couldn’t think straight and said the wrong thing: “ Clients aren’t supposed to touch. ”
What is wrong with me? Ugh, seriously.
That line alone would have stirred the conversation in a completely wrong direction. Why would I bring up clients?
I exhale deeply. Oh, well.
I’ll tell him soon. I’ve got to. But not at this exact second. Timing’s everything. Why why why am I such a chicken-shit?
Dillan’s dick presses into the back of my thigh, bringing me out of my musings and back to reality. He took such good care of me last night; I want to return the favor. Rolling in his arms to face him, I slide my hand into his hair and tug him into a kiss.
I love the way he kisses me. It’s like he can’t get enough, like he wants to kiss me forever. Which works out great because the feeling is mutual.
I reach down to rub him through his boxers. “It’s been way too long since I’ve had a chance to touch you,” I tease.
“True,” he growls, all serious.
“At least six or seven hours. But hey, who’s counting?” I throw a playful smirk his way.
“I’m counting,” he says, dead serious. “You better believe I’m counting.”
“Guess I’ll have to make up for lost time then, handsome,” I suggest, winking playfully.
“I wouldn’t object to that plan.”
With an excited giggle, I push him onto his back. Dillan nods, going along with the movement and sliding his arms around me as I straddle him.
“Baby,” he growls, “Wowza! Easy there, you take my breath away. You’re absolutely stunning.”
His eyes are on my hips, my belly, my naked breasts, and I feel like the perfect queen. The way his eyes dance and his pupils dilate urges me on. I kiss him deeply before slipping my hand inside his boxers. His muscled chest flexes as I drag my nails lightly downward, making him inhale sharply. He’s already rock-hard and ready for me, giving me an extra boost of self-confidence.
I can feel his body quiver as my hand strokes his dick.
My body definitely changed during pregnancy, but Dillan doesn’t care. He loves every bit of me just as much as he did before and never wastes the chance to tell me.
“Whoa, hold up, baby,” he interjects. “Give a guy a chance to live, will you? You’re killing me. Fuck . Do that again.”
I think about teasing him and drawing out his pleasure, but in all honesty, I don’t have the patience to. Even though we fooled around last night, it wasn’t nearly enough. I kiss my way down just as he did to me, leaving a trail of playful nips and bites along the way. He lifts his hips to help me rid him of his boxers, before those big, strong hands of his run through my hair.
“Ahh…Lizzie…fuck,” he rumbles the moment I suck him into my mouth. “Whoa, dial it back…”
He’s soft and hard as steel at the same time.
I never feel more powerful and sexy than when I make Dillan moan. He twitches and moves along with me, running his fingers through my hair and using his blunt nails to lightly scrape my scalp. It makes me shudder, and my skin rises with goose bumps, my arousal becoming almost unbearable.
“Wait, baby, you’re making me come,” he growls. “Seriously now. Don’t make me come. Not yet.”
Only a second later, his hands wrap around my biceps and he pulls me up, slamming his mouth against mine as he rolls me onto my back. I let him take over, too needy and turned on to want to take control again.
It doesn’t matter.
All I want is Dillan inside me, and the moment he slides his long cock in, I’m lost in the sensation.
It isn’t as gentle or slow as yesterday. We’re too eager and desperate for more. We grab each other as we rock together, kissing heatedly. He makes me feel so good that I wish I could stay here in his bed forever. The way his mouth latches onto my neck while he fucks me drives me crazy, and I moan his name as my orgasm draws closer.
And closer.
And closer .
And closer .
And—shit—there it is! I scream. He groans.
We finish together, mouths and souls connected as one.
We lie like that for what feels like forever, long after we’ve come down from our high. Happy. Content. Utterly satisfied.
I know I’ve made the best decision. I never want to be with anyone else.
Only him.
He still kisses me, and it feels like he’s kissing me for the first time. With his cock inside me (that seems to be getting hard again), I feel so warm and safe lying here under him, which is still such a new feeling that it takes me a moment to process.
Even in past relationships, I knew I had to rely on myself.
But with Dillan, there’s love and safety there I’ve never experienced before.
“See, this is why you need to sleep over more often,” he growls, thrusting his hips lightly.
I giggle. Yup, definitely getting hard inside of me, stretching me. “I’ve got to say, waking up to the catch of the century in my bed is infinitely better than listening to my neighbor watch Fox News at six in the morning.”
I fully expect him to make a joke about what I just said. The catch of the century—bet he’s loving that. But he doesn’t. He says something unexpected.
“Then move in with me.”
I snap my head up to gawk at him, thinking I must have misheard. “What did you say?”
Dillan locks eyes with me, reaching out to smooth the messy hair away from my face. “I want you and Isaac to move in with me.” As if to mark his words, he pulls back out and thrusts back in. “I love having the both of you here and getting to see you whenever I want. It’s more than that though.” His voice takes on a rough, almost raw edge when he delivers another thrust. I know he can feel my hard nipples scraping against his chest. Continuing to swell hot inside me, he grumbles, “With me traveling, you needed the support, but now I’m here and not going anywhere, and it’s about time. Isaac already has his own room. And once I meet with the contractors about the upstairs, I can have them put in a home studio for you to practice in.”
How can he manage to stay—relatively—composed? I hold back a moan when he thrusts again. “ Dillan …”
“Yeah?” With a smirk, he delivers a harder thrust. “I can tell that juggling getting the baby here and making it to work on time is taking a toll on you.” And another thrust. When a moan escapes my lips, he groans, then steadies himself. “So…move in with me.”
He delivers two more thrusts, his dick completely hard now, then stills his movements, waiting for my reply.
I don’t know what to say.
All I want is to rise to meet him.
I know he can feel how wet, and slippery, and aching I am.
My brain isn’t wired to function properly when Dillan Maxwell is fucking me.
By some miracle, I collect my thoughts, glad he’s stopped thrusting.
For some reason, I never expected Dillan to be so ready to combine our lives. I know he values his space and privacy—we both do. And I’m more than happy to stay in my small apartment with Pippa.
“I…I don’t know what to say,” I admit, all breathless.
He smiles, reaches one hand down, and softly brushes over my clit, with just enough pressure and movement to make me shiver with need. He strokes me slowly, lightly. I don’t have time to prepare for how quickly I feel my orgasm building.
“Say yes,” Dillan urges, his finger performing the perfect circling motion known to womankind. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you.”
What?
Wait.
My heart seems to stop. Dillan never says anything he doesn’t mean.
In all the wild scenarios I imagined, a spontaneous rest-of-life-love-confession in the midst of a spicy moment was nowhere on the list. I’m delightfully caught off guard. He resumes his clit teasing, thrusting into me, fucking me, and I’m a swirling mess, a chaotic dance of too much information and mind-blowing sensations—definitely on the brink of a spectacular mental meltdown. Or the most epic orgasm ever experienced (which, let’s face it, is basically the same thing). Before I can even attempt to tell him how I feel about him, he thrusts deeper and pinches my clit, firing up my need for much needed release.
“Oh, God,” I whisper. “No fair.”
“But I also know you like your independence,” he grumbles, thrusting, “and this will in no way force you to give that up.”
What did he say? His words barely register. I’m still stuck on him dropping the L-bomb.
The pressure builds, his touch becoming torturous.
“I know,” he smirks mischievously, now rubbing my clit along with his deep, rhythmic thrusts. His breathing is more strained. “I’m not going to force your decision. You know that.” He rubs and rubs and rubs. “Just…think it over, all right? And when you’re ready, give me that sweet ‘yes’.”
I can barely think. At this point, he could have suggested I live in a treehouse on Mars, and I would have packed my bags.
Dillan knows precisely how to rub me to orgasm.
One final rub, and I come with a cry. “ Yes! Yes! Yes! ”
I come so hard that the world around me blurs, my impending meltdown taking center stage in the chaos of my overwhelming emotions.
He follows soon after.
That was so hot. But no fair!
Grinning the cheekiest and smuggest grin I’ve seen him grin, he rolls over next to me, still panting, and yep, still grinning, and trying to catch his breath.
We look at each other in silence for a moment, then he winks.
I grin back.
Suddenly, Isaac starts to cry over the monitor. Perfect timing as always, kiddo! I think and make a move to get up.
Dillan stops me with a gentle kiss. “Rest, baby. I’ll get him.”
“Thanks…” I somehow manage to whisper. I watch him climb out of bed and throw his sweat pants on before going to get our son.
Now that my brain has made it back online, my mind spins with his offer.
Part of me thinks it might be too soon, but considering we have known each other for some time now and have a child together, the concept of “too soon” seems a bit obsolete. Living together would make things easier, not more difficult. There are some very practical, everyday things that make my life more pleasant: I wouldn’t have to take the subway as much or borrow anyone’s car. And with the rent taken care of, I wouldn’t have to work full time at the lounge anymore. I could go part time until I get some classes going, and then, if they do well, I could be done waitressing within a matter of months, not years.
Plus, it would make taking care of Isaac a whole lot easier. I’d feel bad for ducking out on Pippa, but she’d be able to get a new roommate without issue. I would miss Mrs. Loughty’s friendly face, no doubt, but I would visit both of them often. We would all stay in touch, 100 percent.
But all these practical considerations weigh nothing, absolutely nothing, against my feelings. I’ve been falling for Dillan from the first moment, and now…I love him.
No, not now .
It feels like my love for Dillan has always been inside me, just waiting for the right moment to make itself known. That’s the now I mean.
What really scares me is how I’m not afraid of moving in with him. Does that make sense? Having been on my own for so long, the idea of sharing my life with the man I love makes me tremble with fear and smile happily in the same second.
It had been a dream to wake up in his arms.
I could have that every day for the rest of our lives.
Dillan returns a moment later, holding Isaac and smiling. “Good morning, Momma,” he says, making Isaac wave. “I’m an adorable little prince in clean diapers who is all smiles.”
Definitely something. I reach for my baby, and Dillan eases him into my arms before climbing back into bed. The three of us lie there all snuggled together, and my heart has never felt fuller.
“Yes, we’ll move in with you,” I tell him, and his grin returns, stretching from ear to ear.
“You already told me that, you know, minutes ago.”
“Consider this my official reply.”
“Your official reply is duly noted and filed away for future reference.”
It’s nearly impossible to resist smirking at the man lying next to me. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes, the tousled bed hair, and the rugged stubble framing his sharp jawline—he’s the living embodiment of every ideal, every hope, and every longing I ever dared to dream of in a man.
I gather all my courage.
Now I can say it out loud, and it feels good and right.
“I…I love you, Dillan.”