Chapter 25
The two of them are the happiest they have been in weeks when Riley pulls off onto the dark road leading home.
Liz practically bounces in her seat when the hovel above their home comes into view.
It has been so long since they have had any real quality time together.
Even the days following Riley’s rescue were spent having serious conversations with a constant flow of friends and doctors coming in and out.
His arms find their way around Liz when the elevator doors close behind them, keeping her held close until the very last second.
“We need a dog,” Liz says as she is pulled into the living room, letting him steer her right to the couch, pulling her down with him as he flops onto it.
“If we make it out of this shit storm alive, I will take you to adopt as many dogs as you want,” he says, burying his face in her neck.
She jumps back up, yanking on his still tender arm until he is standing, only feeling a little bad when she sees the slight wince. That is what he gets for continuing to over do it. Despite being cleared and back to working out, Liz knows he still has some pain he tries to hide.
“You’re covered in blood. Go shower,” she says, inspecting the fluffy cushions for any sign of red, attempting to push him toward his room. She erupts in a fit of giggles as she is hoisted into the air. Riley slings her over his shoulder, acting as if she weighs nothing at all.
“Fine, but you’re coming with me,” he says, reaching up and smacking her butt, laughing at the squeal that escapes her. “I’m still too weak to be alone.”
“Too weak my ass. I know you have been sneaking out before the sun comes up to go to the gym,” she says as she rakes her nails over the defined muscles in his back.
Riley tosses her onto the bed when they get into his room, leaving her sprawled out while he starts the shower, crawling in next to her while it warms.
“So,” Liz says, rolling onto her side so she can face him. “Are we going to talk about what happened back there? That is going to be his excuse to hurt you. I can already see him saying you got mad that he took me out and attacked him”
“Nothing to talk about, love. There is footage of Matt attacking you. He can try to use it against me, but crying about it will do him no good. I would do the same to any man who tried to rape someone,” he says, playing with her hair.
Liz watches him, mesmerized by the way he always does that when he talks about something serious. Remembering the shower is running, she pulls herself from the bed, holding both hands out to pull Riley up, too. If he says he needs help, help is what he will get.
She leads him into the bathroom, slowly pulling his clothes off before stripping out of her own, and joining him in his massive standing shower.
She has only been in his bathroom long enough to look in the mirror, she hadn’t noticed how much detail he puts into everything.
Black marble tiles with veins of white running through them cover the floor and make up the shower.
Black walls are broken up by a floating, dark wood vanity, the color perfectly matching the gold accents scattered all over.
A row of small, matching shelves sit on either side of the two illuminated mirrors above the sink, decorated with a few small plants and trinkets.
The whole room is somehow both manly and elegant.
Liz turns back, finding his soap and a washcloth, loading it up. When it gets nice and bubbly, she steps over, slowly washing the blood from his arm.
A deep, guttural groan escapes him, sending heat flooding through her body.
She washes every speck of red from him before ordering him to turn around.
She squeezes more soap onto her hands, using it to make him slippery enough to massage his back, not stopping until the tension in his shoulders ease.
Riley turns, his hands encasing her waist. He pulls her against him, into the warmth of the water, letting it wash over both of them.
Picking up a fresh cloth, he tries to return the favor, grumbling to himself when she refuses.
He doesn’t mind watching the show, seeing the woman he loves cover every inch of her body in suds.
He is not sure what he likes more, seeing her covered in bubbles or watching them melt off her underneath the steaming water.
When they finally leave the shower, Riley guides her right back into bed.
“Oh yeah? Jumping right into bed?” Liz teases, batting her lashes at him.
She lets the towel fall to the floor before crawling under the covers.
Her eyes drop to his waist, the bulge growing against his towel sending a wave of arousal through her.
Riley drops it, getting in next to her. Liz scoots over, resting her head on his shoulder while one leg is slung over his waist.
“You have no idea how bad I want you, but I want you more,” he says, idling, rubbing her arm.
“When he had me, these are the moments I envisioned the most. Don’t get me wrong, even being tortured didn’t stop me from thinking about being buried deep inside you, but picturing you back in my arms is what kept me from breaking. ”
“I love you,” she says as she peppers his chest with feather soft kisses.
“So, I need to ask. Why did you take your mask off when Matt was yelling at me? What is going to happen now? You’ve been so careful about not being seen without it.
” Liz lets the questions pour out, concerned for what removing his mask means for him.
Riley rolls to his side, propping himself up on one arm.
“Do you remember what I told you? The first time I brought you to our lake?” he asks.
His rich, amber eyes scan hers, watching to see if she will put it together.
Her brows pinch together and she purses her lips, getting a chuckle from Riley.
“I’ll remind you. You said that I would make a great boyfriend if you could ever get me out of the mask long enough to find someone,” he starts.
“You said that if you end up with someone it will be someone who doesn’t care. They will know why you wear it and respect that,” she proudly states, beaming up at him.
“Exactly, but you’re leaving out the most important part. I said that person might make me feel whole again, make me feel like I can finally be myself without hiding behind it,” he explains.
“Right!” Liz exclaims. “If you find a person who makes you feel that way, you would think about whether you wanted to keep wearing it or not.”
“I knew from the second you started being a brat in the interrogation room that you would change everything for me. Even when I was trying to get you home to James, I couldn’t stop myself from falling for you, but I never thought you could ever feel the same way.
When you gave me the smallest shred of hope that you could…
I knew I would give it all up to give you the world,” he tells her, watching the tears pool in her eyes.
“So that’s it? You’re giving it up because of me?” she asks, unable to hide her sadness.
“Not because of you, for you, well, us. I want to build a life with you, and we can’t do that if I hide behind a mask.
I made the choice when he had me. If I got out of there alive, I was done with all that.
My past is nothing compared to our future,” he says, reaching over and cupping her cheek in his hand, pulling her face to his “And don’t worry, I’ll still put it on and fuck your brains out anytime, you just have to ask nice. ”
He kisses her, slow and gentle, like he is trying to commit the feel of her lips against his to memory.
His rough, calloused hands caress her leg, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
He pulls it over his waist, forcing her to move closer until her body is pressed against his.
Liz deepens the kiss, parting her lips for him.
Their tongues dance around each other, soft and gentle.
His hand squeezes tighter, like his restraint slips the more her mouth meets his.
She clenches her thighs, trying to ease some of the tension building between her legs.
A soft, breathy moan escapes her lips when she brushes against the hard length of him.
He stills, letting out a moan of his own against her mouth.
He rolls them back over without ever breaking their kiss.
Only when he is perched on top of Liz, settled between her legs, does he dare pull away.
“Is this okay?” he asks, scanning her face for any sign of discomfort, relieved to find nothing but love shining in her deep green eyes.
It’s not enough. After what happened only a few days ago, he needs to know he is not pushing her too far.
Eyes still locked, she smiles at him, nodding her head.
He drops onto his forearms, desperate to be as close to her as their bodies will allow.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he says, sliding an arm under her, keeping her head cradled in his hand.
The breathy sound she lets out as he eases into her has every nerve in his body lighting up.
Her hands fly around his back, digging her nails into his warm skin as he moves in and out of her, a slow, methodical pace, trying to savor every second.
Liz rolls her hips, a silent plea for more.
Gentle and tender is amazing, but that has never been them, and they both know that.
She can feel him fighting to hold himself together.
A bite of sharp pain mixes with his pleasure when she rakes her nails down his back, finally snapping the last shred of control he had.
His hand clenches, holding tight onto a fistful of her hair.
His pace quickens. Harder. Faster. He releases the grip he has on her hair, reaching down to pull one of her legs up, resting it on his waist. Liz screams in pleasure, the new angle letting him get impossibly deep, hitting everything just right.