Chapter 12
Liza
Toby walked in with a kind of nervous look on his face, which I hadn’t expected. I didn’t think anyone could be more nervous than me.
Especially not with what I had planned.
His nostrils flared as he walked in.
“Do you smell something?” I asked. I always tried to make sure my apartment smelled good, but I didn’t have the money for a cleaning lady and spent too much time studying.
I’d been power cleaning all day, so hopefully it smelled like lemon-scented cleaner.
But he shook his head, thankfully. “No, it just smells like… well, you.”
That had to be a good thing, based on the way he said it, so I just took the compliment and gestured toward the kitchen. “Come in, please. I had Livvie cater for us. We ate her food last night too, but heck, why stop a good thing?”
“How was your day?” I asked. “I was looking forward to seeing you again. I’m glad you texted me.”
“Good,” I said, ignoring the questions about my day. No need to tell him I’d cleaned the house then cleaned myself, shaving every inch carefully… just in case. “It took a lot to ask you over, but I’m glad I did.” My stomach clenched as I fought desire. Just being near Toby was alluring.
He grinned as I dished out the pasta dish. “I am too.” When he took the plate, his fingers brushed mine, sending a zing straight through my body.
Dinner went well until we brought up the subject of families. It was my fault. I asked first. “So, tell me about your family,” I said, surprising myself by being genuinely interested in his past, his story.
He grinned. “Well, I wish they’d come into town about two weeks later than they did.” He took a bite and moaned. “This is great. But they just went back home yesterday. If things go well between us, we’ll have to have them back or go visit them.”
I ducked my head, not willing to jinx things by speculating on how well things would or wouldn’t go for us, especially this early on.
As nice as it sounded to be in the kind of relationship that required meeting parents, it was a little soon for him to even mention such a thing.
Though, when it came down to it, I was surprised that I didn’t actually mind.
“My mom and dad are still together,” he said. “And in love. Like they were, uh, fated to be together.” He shrugged and laughed a little under his breath.
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “That’s sweet.” If only such a thing were real. It would make the whole dating gamble so much easier.
“Yeah, we’re close-knit, I guess. I have a sneaking suspicion one of the things they did while in town was look for a place. I’m their only son, and me moving here wasn’t easy for them.”
He touched my hand, but then didn’t draw back. The warmth enveloped me, rising up my arm until my cheeks colored. “Why do you look sad?” he asked.
I shrugged. “It would be nice to be that close to my mom, but she makes it too difficult.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, she didn’t seem like the best.”
To escape replying, I stood and got us both another beer. “I’m happy you have that. I’m not close to my mom. Mainly because of her endless string of men.”
Toby’s jaw tightened, and I didn’t miss the way he gripped the edge of the table. “Did any of them cross a line with you?”
“No, not really,” I said, carefully choosing my words. “Though there were a few who made me very uncomfortable. I kept my distance and moved out as soon as I could.” That was another terrible subject to talk about. “Unfortunately, that meant moving in with Dax.”
“Damn her,” Toby muttered. He took my hand and leaned close. “As long as you’ll allow me to stick around, I promise I will protect you in every way you’ll let me.”
He said it with so much conviction that I had to believe him. Something in his tone. I didn’t even consider questioning it.
And it sparked something deep inside me. I’d never had anyone who wanted to protect me, or even cared to say they would. Dax certainly hadn’t ever said anything to that effect.
Feelings flooded me, from affection to safety, but overall was arousal. Warm, head-spinning desire.
So much that I didn’t even question myself as I leaned forward and kissed him, with more passion than I was pretty sure I’d ever kissed Dax. Maybe when we’d first started kissing and fooling around, but even then, as hormonal teenagers, nothing felt as exciting as this kiss with Toby.
He stood and offered me his hand. I looked at his fingers, fingers I knew were both strong and gentle, and I drifted my gaze up his arm, across his broad shoulder, the strong column of his neck, to his face, to the gentle smile.
Hesitation and uncertainty lingered in his eyes, like he still thought I might back down. Because he was giving me the choice.
This was on me. I could accept him, or I could reject him right now, and he was prepared for either one. My stomach flopped over, and adrenaline started a low hum in my head as I reached to take his hand.
I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to be strong enough to be with Toby. I took his hand and sighed in relief, the decision being made changed my questioning feelings to excitement—and nervousness.
I stumbled a little behind him as I followed him up the stairs. It was like my legs weren’t coordinated or all of my blood had gone to pool in my clit or something. My breaths were shallow, and I forced myself to take a decent lungful of air.
He pushed open the door to my room as if he already knew where it was, or he could smell me in there.
Suddenly I was cocooned in everything Toby—the curve of his jaw, his strong arms, his scent.
I breathed deep again, drawing him deep into my chest. It was like pressing my nose to his neck, but he was all around me, in every fabric, in the very air, instead.
I almost wanted to go to his apartment and stand in his closet and just inhale him like it might make me high, but my gaze drifted to my bed instead.
Such a big expanse of neat sheets. I swallowed, imagining those sheets rumpled. It had been a long time since my sheets were rumpled, and I don’t think I’d ever felt the way I did about it right now.
He stood between me and the bed, blocking my view. “You can still change your mind. You can change your mind at any point,” he said. “It’s always your choice. It’s always going to be your choice.”
But I pressed myself against him, lifting on tiptoes to align my body with his. “I’ve already chosen,” I murmured, my lips touching his as I spoke the words. “I want this. You. Now.”
A groan rumbled through his chest and his fingers trembled as he brought them to my cheeks before weaving them into my hair.
His obvious need to control himself flared my desire, and I slid my tongue across his lower lip, suddenly wanting more of him, to taste him.
I pressed my teeth gently against his lip and he chuckled before wrapping his arms around me and drawing me closer, angling his mouth over mine to deepen our kiss.
His tongue touched mine, and I gasped at the intimacy of it, at the feeling of him hard against me, wanting me and holding back.
I pressed against him again, arching my back, making an invitation. My breasts tingled, and I craved his touch. Like he knew, he trailed his hand up my side, the sensation almost ticklish, but I didn’t laugh, instead my breath caught in my chest as I waited.
Finally, he palmed my breast over my clothes, and I groaned. Not close enough. It wasn’t enough. I wanted more.
I tugged my T-shirt from the waistband of my pants and lifted it.
He broke our kiss to help me bring it over my head, and as his gaze raked over my bra, I breathed in deeper, pushing my breasts toward him as he rested his fingertips on the upper curves.
He watched the rise and fall, his expression greedy, and his desire sent heat spiraling through me.
I gripped his wrist and drew his hand lower.
“Really touch me.”
He laughed shakily. “I was just worshiping for a moment.” But then his mouth crushed back against mine as he palmed one of my breasts, and my nipple hardened against the lace of my bra.
He broke our kiss again before lowering his head and flicking his tongue against my bra, dampening the fabric until he brushed his tongue back and forth over one of my nipples.
I writhed against him, wanting the clothing out of the way.
Toby must have felt the same as his hands were at my back and my bra released, allowing cooler air against my skin.
He looked at me. “Is this okay?”
I nodded. I might have gone crazy if he didn’t touch me. Ignoring the instinct that made me want to wrap my arm over myself and shield my body from his view, I let him draw my bra down my arms, watching his face as he did. His lips parted and his breathing rate increased.
“Liza.” My name was almost a plea as he bent to take one of my nipples into his mouth. I gasped at the wet warmth and would have fallen against him without his hands on my hips to keep me upright.
He knelt in front of me and pressed kisses above my waistband before flicking the button of my pants open. As he drew down the zipper, he watched my face, and I nodded, threading my fingers into his hair. I wanted to be fully bared to this man.
But he still had his clothes on. I plucked the fabric of his shirt where it rested over his shoulders and he laughed as he laid a lick of his tongue against my skin. Then he pulled his shirt off, the movement quick and masculine, his muscles bunching and flexing.
His body was warm when I rested my hands on him again, and the touch only sent another jolt of heat through me.
He led me to the edge of my bed, standing me beside it as he guided my pants down my thighs. I sat down so he could take them off completely, grateful that I could take my weight off of my shaky legs.
“Lie back. Make yourself comfortable,” he murmured, as he gestured toward the pillows and folded the edge of the comforter back.