Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
"So? I don't care!" Tori pulls away from him.
"Stay," he says, his voice low and rough to his own ears. "Please."
She glares at him, and he can tell she's ready to leave and never come back. "Maybe that offer isn't on the table anymore."
He stands, though it's with less grace than usual since he's still wearing a knee brace. "You're right," he says. "We want each other. So let's get this out of our systems."
She felt so good in his arms. He must have gone temporarily insane turning her away. Maybe he wants more from Tori than an afternoon, but if an afternoon is all she's offering, then he'll take it.
"I don't know." She seems conflicted.
But then she reaches out and touches his chest. He places his hand over hers, pressing it into himself. It's right over his heart, and he hopes she can feel it pounding.
"I'm having a bad day," she whispers. "Maybe I should quit while I'm ahead."
"I know you are, rubia . Let me make it better." He laces his fingers through hers. "I promise I will."
She glances at the fiasco of a sofa in his living room.
"No, not here." He takes her hand and leads her toward his bedroom. He started sleeping in there again recently after throwing all the old bedding away and buying new stuff. There's nothing of Rachel's left at all.
Just before they enter the room, she stops him by tugging his arm. "This is only for today, right? Nothing more."
"I understand."
"We're just two people having down and dirty sex."
He smiles at her wording. Only Tori could make the words "down and dirty sex" sound sweet.
"A… one-afternoon stand. As opposed to a one-night stand," she clarifies. "That's all I'm looking for."
His mouth twitches. "I know."
"Good." She nods firmly. "Then let's get this done."
He chuckles, but as soon as they're in the room together and he sees Tori near his bed, his laughter fades. Disbelief settles over him. What do you do when your fantasy comes true?
Enjoy it, idiot. That's what .
"It's nothing personal," she says, kicking off her flip-flops and scooting farther up the bed. Her feet are pretty with bright pink toenails. "I just can't deal with another dead-end relationship."
He wants to correct her, to tell her he doesn't see it that way, but knows it's futile. She'll leave, and that's the last thing he wants .
"Would you mind closing the blinds?" she asks, her eyes roaming over his bedroom.
He goes over to shut them. It's darker, but it’s the middle of the afternoon, so there's plenty of light.
"Is that better?" He moves closer to join her on the bed. She's sitting on what he still considers "his" side.
"Yes, thank you." Her eyes wander to his nightstand, which has a couple of handguns on it. His Glock 22—the one he nearly used on Rizzo—and the smaller 26 he uses for concealed carry.
"I can put them in a drawer."
"No." She turns back to him. "They don't bother me."
"You sure?"
She nods. They gaze at each other in the dim light. Tori's blue eyes seem huge. Freckles run across the bridge of her nose. A peculiar tightness grips his stomach and chest as he gazes at her.
Her blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and he reaches out to touch it. "Will you let your hair down?"
"Okay."
He watches her pull the band out, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulder.
He can't stop himself from reaching for a handful. "So beautiful," he murmurs.
"You don't have to keep saying stuff like that. It's not necessary."
He smiles. "Why? Because we're getting down and dirty?"
She rolls her eyes, but he can see she's smiling too. "People who are having an afternoon of lust-filled sex don't say things like that to each other."
He moves his hand up to trace along her hairline and then bends in closer to kiss her lips. Soft and lush. "I thought you've never done this sort of thing before," he whispers.
"I haven't," she whispers back.
"Then how would you know?"
She laughs, and he takes advantage of it by kissing her again. This time their tongues mingle, sliding over each other .
When they draw apart, he can't look away. She's both familiar and brand-new.
There's an energy humming through him, his senses heightened. He recognizes it. There’ve been other times in his life when he's experienced this electricity, always when something important was happening. The first time he crouched behind home plate in the majors. The first time he drew his weapon and stopped a criminal. And right now. Today.
The first time making love with Tori.
She smiles, but then it fades as she stares at his mouth. A needful expression comes over her. "I want to kiss you."
His cock stiffens. "Then do it," he says roughly.
She does, pulling him close. He senses she wants control, so he gives her as much as he's able to, forcing himself to hold back.
The smell of tangerines fills the air along with an underlying sweet musk he knows is simply her.
She pushes his T-shirt up, and he enjoys watching her lusty passion. He helps by pulling it over his head and throwing it aside. His eyes close when she runs her hands over his chest and abdomen.
Before he knows it, she's up on her knees, shoving him onto his back. He goes down, but the angle is awkward with his leg. He lets out an involuntary gasp.
She gasps too. "Oh no! Did I hurt you?"
"I'm fine." He catches his breath. "It's just my knee."
She hovers over him, strands of silky hair brushing his skin. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to be so forceful."
He chuckles. "Don't worry. I like you forceful."
"You do?"
He repositions himself on the bed and sits up. "Let me take this brace off."
She watches as he quickly undoes the straps and places it on the opposite nightstand.
When he turns back, her eyes are roaming his body, but then they go to his face. "I want you to know I think you're beautiful too. "
"Thank you." He pauses, taking in her pretty features. He lies on his back with his head on the pillow. "You don't have to say that kind of stuff," he teases. "You've already got me where you want me."
She smiles. "And where's that?"
On my knees.
For you.
But he doesn't say that. "Ready for some down and dirty sex."
She giggles softly, and he reaches for her. She comes readily, lying over him. Her tangerine scent is everywhere, like summer sunshine. He closes his eyes. That feeling of electricity is still there.
It isn't long before their mouths and bodies intertwine, her breasts pressed against him, his hands sliding beneath her skirt.
He discovers Tori makes all sorts of noises when she's turned on. Little sounds of pleasure. He loves each one of them. Loves it when she sighs as his fingers stroke the outside of her panties, loves it when she gasps as they slip beneath the elastic, and loves it most when she moans as he slides them to where she's wet and swollen.
Those little sounds are going to be the death of him.
He wants to continue, but she has something else in mind as she sits up, straddling his thighs. She pulls down the zipper on her hoodie while he watches.
"So pretty," he says encouragingly. "Let me see all of you, rubia."
He's transfixed as the hoodie falls off her shoulders. She's wearing a white tank top beneath it, and that goes next. Finally, all that's left is her lacy bra.
The room is quiet, nothing but the sound of the two of them.
She glances toward the window, toward the closed blinds. He wonders if she’s feeling shy.
"It’s okay, no one can see us," he whispers. "Show me." He could reach up and help her take it off, but he wants to watch her do it.
Her hands go behind her back, and then the bra slides away.
He tries to breathe. Tori's breasts are full with dusky pink nipples. Pale and milky skin. His own skin looks dark next to hers.
He exhales slowly. The sixteen-year-old kid inside of him is filled with excited disbelief. The thirty-four-year-old guy inside of him is too. This is Tori Church . In his bed. In his arms.
He wonders if she has any idea how much she's affecting him.
And then she does something surprising. She reaches up and touches herself, tilting her head as she takes a breast in each hand and plays with her own nipples. She glides her fingers over them, gently tugging, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. At the same time, she grinds herself against his hard-on with a little smile on her face.
He groans. The pervert in him wants to video this and watch it a thousand times. He'd never tire of it. He could jerk off to this the rest of his life and die happy.
"I think you're trying to end me," he finally manages to say, aching and nearly ready to take himself in hand and finish the job.
"I was hoping it might turn you on." Her voice lowers. "Does it?"
"Yes," he says huskily. "Very much. Does it turn you on?"
She seems to reflect on this. "I think so."
"Everything about you turns me on, Tori."
Her breath catches. There's a blush creeping up on her skin that he can just make out in the filtered light. "I'm glad," she whispers. Then she meets his eyes, sincerity in her gaze. "You turn me on too."
He's happy to hear it. He slips his hands under her skirt again, sliding his fingers over her damp panties. "I told you earlier I'd make you feel better."
She doesn't say anything.
"And I live up to my promises."
Her eyes widen as she understands his meaning.
"Scoot up and take the rest of this off," he says softly. "Let me make me you feel good."
Tori’s eyelids fall shut. She pictures Liam's sensual mouth and what it's doing to her right now. Tonguing her clit. Licking her.
God .
It's almost enough to make her come.
Almost.
He's good at it too. Patient yet enthusiastic. She's had guys over the years who were terrible. Who didn't know a thing about female anatomy.
Liam isn't one of them.
Later tonight, when she's home alone and finally orgasms, this is what she'll think about. His mouth on her doing these wicked things.
His hands grip her thighs, then stroke her ass. It feels amazing, and at least he’s enjoying himself. This afternoon has been a total turn-on. She knew it would be. He's super hot. So hot that a part of her hoped it would be enough.
Why isn’t it?
A wave of frustration rises in her, and she could smack the wall in front of her. Every time, she hopes this will be the one, that things will be different, but it never is.
Instead, she'll have the girl equivalent of blue balls.
What’s wrong with me?
She sighs to herself. It's not like she hasn't been here before.
She opens her eyes and checks out his room. There are photos on the wall she didn't notice earlier. Black-and-white pictures of the Oregon coast. Haystack Rock. She wonders who took them. Liam never mentioned being into photography.
It occurs to her how little she knows about him.
She glances down at the way he's pleasuring her. What a sight. His eyes are closed, his dark brows furrowed. Even like this, he's so handsome. Especially like this. She takes a mental picture for when she's alone later.
A few more minutes pass. It feels so good. She's tempted to try and come but knows it won’t lead anywhere except more frustration.
He’s been at it for a while. It's time.
She takes a deep breath, then puts her hands against the wall. Licks her lips. Ready to start the theatrics.
She's seen a number of pornos but doesn't model herself after those anymore. They're too fake. Instead, she models it after her own real orgasms but with a little more fireworks thrown in.
"Oh, yes," she moans loudly. "That's so good." She moves her hips around in circles. It's the same show every time. She throws in one final "Oh, yes" for good measure and figures she's done.
She moves off Liam's face. His mouth is open, his jaw flushed.
"That was wonderful," she says. "Just great."
Most guys are thrilled, cocky even, when she tells them that, but Liam’s quiet.
She puts her hand on his chest, then slides it down his abdomen. She doubts he's suspicious. Men never are. Besides, even if he were, she knows the perfect way to throw him off the scent.
She slips her hand inside his sweatpants and boxers and wraps it around his cock.
He exhales with a gasp.
Wow, he's really hard. Like iron. And big too. She's impressed.
She moves closer to him, intrigued. "Do you have any kind of protection?"
He swallows and seems to be getting his bearings. "No, I don't have anything here."
"You don't?" This had never occurred to her. She's surprised at the depth of her disappointment. "Not even in your wallet? I thought all guys carried one in their wallets."
This makes him smile. "Not even in my wallet."
"I wish I'd known. I could have bought some."
He strokes a hand down her back. "Believe me, I wish I'd known too."
Her hand is still on his cock, and she grips him lightly. "Let me take care of you, then. It's not fair if I have all the fun."
The corner of his mouth kicks up. "Trust me, I was having fun. I loved making you feel good."
She nods, except she’s getting weirdly choked up inside. The problem is, the more she gets to know Liam, the more she likes him. He's not exactly the jerk she thought he was .
She reminds herself that this is only for one afternoon.
"What are you thinking about?" he asks, watching her.
"Just you." She leans over to kiss him, and he pulls her toward him. She's still gripping his hard-on, and his hand slips over hers, schooling her, showing her exactly how he likes it. "This way?" she asks, following his instructions.
He nods and keeps his mouth close to hers. "That's right."
It doesn't take long before he's breathing hard, his body tense against her. As he gets more excited, she squirms and rubs her thighs together. There's something awfully sexy about straight-arrow Liam on the edge like this. When his breath turns erratic, so does hers.
"God, Tori," he says in a thick voice, his brown eyes half lidded. He exhales on a groan and goes right over the edge.
Afterward, he gazes at her.
"Did you like that?" she whispers.
"Yes," he says, still catching his breath. His voice rumbles. "More than you'll ever know."
She sits up. There's a box of tissue on the nightstand, and she reaches for a few. She's still trying to catch her own breath. In fact, she decides a visit to the bathroom is in order.
"Where are you going?" he asks as she slips out of bed.
"I just have to pee. Where's your restroom?"
He motions to a closed door. "The master bath's right in there."
"Okay, thanks."
She finds her panties and puts them on, then notices the T-shirt he wore earlier on the floor and picks it up. "Mind if I wear this? It's kind of chilly."
"Go right ahead."
Once inside the bathroom, she closes the door, and slips his T-shirt on. It smells so good, like a breezy day. Just like Liam.
Glancing around, she notes the space is bigger than she expected. White and green tile. Double sinks. A big tub. A black bathrobe hangs on the back of the door.
She hasn't had to do this in a guy's bathroom in a long time, but she's so aroused that there's no way she can wait until later.
Pulling his shirt up, she smells it, then leans back against the counter and slips her hand between her legs. Even though she's turned on, it still takes time to make herself climax.
Afterward, she breathes a big sigh of relief. That was necessary. So necessary.
Feeling much better, she pees and then washes her hands. There's toothpaste and a toothbrush in a white porcelain cup. A razor and shaving cream. She's tempted to snoop around but doesn't want to invade Liam's privacy like that.
Instead, she studies herself in the mirror. Her hair is a tangled mess. All previous makeup, except mascara, has worn away. Her cheeks are flushed a healthy pink though.
An orgasm will do that for you.
When she leaves the bathroom, Liam is in bed under the covers, obviously naked.
"Everything okay?" he asks. "You were in there a while."
"I'm fine."
He's lying on his side and pulls the duvet back for her. "Come lay in bed with me."
"Sorry, but I can't."
"Why not?"
She thinks of all the things she has to do. "I have a busy day, that's all."
"Just for a little while," he coaxes. "Come on."
The bed does look inviting, especially with his big, warm body in it. His hair is mussed, and he looks boyishly handsome.
Before she knows it, she's walking toward him. "Well, maybe just a few minutes."
"Perfect." He grins. "Take your clothes off, or should I say my clothes."
"I like this shirt." She fingers the hem. "It might have to come home with me."
"I don't think so. That shirt stays here, young lady. "
"Geez, you’re bossy." But she does what he asks and takes the shirt off. She holds it in front of herself and sees it's for a Little League team. "I take it you're a fan of theirs?"
"I coached them for two years."
"Really?" She tries to imagine him doing that, and it's easy to picture.
"Now bring that gorgeous body over here."
She climbs into bed and finds it's quite comfortable, especially once he's wrapped around her. Safe and secure. Relaxed.
"This is nice."
His throat rumbles in agreement.
They're both quiet, though she hears little dog nails tapping against the wood floor outside the door. "I'm surprised Miss Fancy Pants hasn't tried to join us."
"There's been a squirrel hanging around the backyard all day," he murmurs sleepily. "I think Fancy is guarding the house."
"I'll bet that squirrel is teasing her." She's seen them do it with her own dogs.
"Probably."
She relaxes again but then remembers something. "Why do you keep calling me rubia? What is that?"
His arm shifts around her waist. "It means blondie."
"Blondie?"
"It's a term of affection we use in Spanish."
"You've given me a nickname?"
"I have."
She doesn't know why, but she's secretly pleased.
He yawns behind her. She thinks about what a bizarre day this has been. Whoever thought this was where she'd end up?
In Liam's bed.
It's relaxing here though. She closes her eyes. She can't remember the last time she's felt this snug and cozy and gives herself a few minutes to enjoy it.
Except she doesn't count on falling asleep.