Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I believed Liza the other night when she said she was exhausted. She was tired of always having to be strong. However, last night watching her deal with Frank and to some extent Greg, I now had a better understanding and her exhaustion had nothing to do with a six-hour road trip where she played DJ between calls from Shannon and Jason, and snoozing. No, it had to do with the amount of shit she put up with as soon as we got to the hotel in Knoxville.
We’d checked in, gotten Allyson sorted in her room, dropped off our bags, and gone down to the bar in the lobby to wait for her colleagues to join us for a brief. Frank had already proven to be a dick, I reckoned he sucked at his job from the little time I’d spent in his presence. But it went beyond him being a lazy asshole. The man was completely incompetent and had to look to Greg to field Liza’s questions. Greg’s irritation with Frank was undeniable. He was over babysitting and wanted to dump Frank back on Liza.
It was Greg who had surprised me. He was friendly. He was smart as hell. He’d been with the ATF a hell of a lot longer than Liza and he was a training agent. So at first when he asked Liza to explain her every thought, I figured that was just his way to encourage deep critical reasoning and how to articulate ideas. But the more he did it, the more it began to feel like an interrogation and less like a seasoned agent mentoring a respected peer. The longer I sat there, the more pissed I got. Liza sensed this and sent me a text telling me not to speak.
That pissed me off more.
It wasn’t long after that text that Allyson had come down to join us for dinner. Frank’s demeanor didn’t change. Greg’s did—totally. He was patient and kind to Allyson. He asked her questions about growing up, how she knew Liza, if she’d ever met me, how much time did Liza spend at her house while they were in high school. He kept the prep helpful and easy. By the end of dinner, Allyson was relaxed and talking with Liza like they were the lifelong friends they were supposed to be.
After dinner wrapped up, it was just me and Liza at the bar for a drink before we headed up to our room. A room with a bed that I was trying to stay out of for as long as humanly possible, or at least until I knew I had a grip on my control and I wasn’t going to make a move Liza wasn’t ready for.
I asked her about Greg.
“That’s just him,” she told me. “I don’t think he realizes the way it comes across. He’s actually a good guy and a good training agent.”
“Someone should tell him he comes across as an ass.”
“Maybe. I just know it’s not going to be me. I’ve learned to pick my battles and Greg’s not a man I want as an enemy.”
I shot back the rest of my whiskey, not tasting a drop of the sweet oaky flavor of the old No 7 the bartender had poured. I wished it was my preferred Ardbeg—real whisky from Scotland—not that I’d court getting kicked out of the state of Tennessee by suggesting such a thing.
I set my empty glass down and asked, “You have a lot of enemies at work?”
My question seemed to startle Liza before a slow, sly smile played on her lips.
“You know me. I’m not afraid to speak my mind and not a lot of people appreciate honesty.”
That was the God’s honest truth.
That meant I had a rock in my gut when we went up to our room. That boulder weighed heavy, even after Liza drifted off to sleep on her side of the bed, and didn’t subside until she curled into me. A few minutes later she mumbled how hot I was and tore off her pants before she draped herself back over me.
Only then did I fall asleep.
Which brought me to now, lying on my back with Liza curled into me and over me for the second morning in a row. However, this morning it was harder to control my hands from wandering when I’d woken up to find her not only in a pair of panties but topless, too. My efforts to keep my body in check were made harder when she nuzzled closer and hitched her knee higher, grazing my dick, reminding me I was so hard my dick was throbbing. That, too, was for the second morning in a row.
With no relief to be found in a bed with Liza—something my dick was aching for—I gently shifted her off of me while I did my best to keep my eyes from greedily taking in the swells of her perfect tits, an endeavor I failed in as I slid out of bed. I stopped to pull the blankets up, Liza rolled to her side, and I squeezed my eyes closed to block out the gorgeous view of her cleavage.
Christ, the woman was trying to kill me in her sleep.
I contemplated hightailing me and my stiff dick to the bathroom, leaving the blankets down around her waist. However, leaving her uncovered would mean the possibility of her still being exposed when I was out of the shower. And catching a glimpse of Liza’s dusty pink nipples in the early morning light when I couldn’t tease those nipples with my tongue and do other things to her besides, one look—or two as it were—was more than enough. I didn’t need to jerk off in a cold shower only to come back and wake her up sporting wood. Blindly reaching for the sheet wasn’t an option. There was only so much torture I could endure before I’d be begging for a taste, and accidentally touching Liza would have me on my knees pleading.
My dick twitched, reminding me that standing at the side of the bed thinking about all the ways I’d like to start my morning wasn’t helping.
I braced for the sight and opened my eyes. As quickly as I could I reached for the sheet, but stopped dead when I saw the tattoo scrolled up her ribs. It started at her hip, reaching not quite to her armpit.
A stem of bleeding hearts. The linework precise, delicate, colorless.
A lifelike yellow canary perched on the top of the stem, the bird’s beak facing her breast.
My chest burned.
Memories assaulted.
I shifted through the years, trying to pinpoint the timing of the conversation. We were in Florida. She’d moved to Miami, I’d flown there to visit before a case started. We’d met at my hotel even though she lived nearby. That was at my request. She hadn’t questioned me nor had she asked why I didn’t want to see her place. At the time I’d appreciated her giving me what I needed, now I wondered if she hadn’t, if I would’ve had the balls to tell her why I’d needed that barrier. I hadn’t been ready to infiltrate her life, I’d needed to keep separate from her home, her friends outside of work, anything that would draw me closer. We had what we had—a friendship that was deep, a bond that I thought was unbreakable. I just needed more time before I was ready.
Such a dumb fuck.
The memory fully formed.
Liza’s smiling, happy face filled my mind’s eye. Before we’d exchanged hellos, she’d plopped down in the chair next to me, yanked her sunglasses off, and tossed them on the table. Even though the sun was shining bright overhead, the umbrella positioned over the table provided some shade.
“I learned something new today,” she announced.
“Good to see you, Lizzy.”
Her smile turned dazzling as she leaned closer to brush her lips over my bearded jaw.
“Good to see you, Tucker,” she softly whispered.
Right then, I should’ve told her how I felt.
That soft touch of her lips, her whispered hello, the way both of them lit my insides, I should’ve admitted I loved her. I should’ve explained I wasn’t ready to quit my job and settle down, but when I was, I wanted it to be with her.
I kept my thoughts to myself and asked, “What’d you learn, baby?”
The softness in her gaze registered, but I’d pushed it to the back of my mind.
“That greeting card companies will invent anything to sell cards. Did you know there’s now something called a Friendaversary?”
God damn, she’d looked adorable the way her nose crinkled when she’d said Friendaversary.
“Is this your way of hinting I missed our Friendaversary?”
“God no. The last thing I need is another date not to forget. You’re lucky I remember your birthday’s in April.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t think of me every year when you file your taxes.”
“Like I wait until the deadline to file. Some of us aren’t procrastinators.”
Another missed opportunity to tell her how I felt.
Conversation flowed and hours had passed, when the topic of horoscopes had come up, which flowed into birth months having everything from flowers, to birds, to gemstones. That led to Liza pulling out her phone, looking up the symbols for each month.
“April. Flower is a daisy. Tree is maple, walnut, or rowan. Gemstone is diamond. Bird is canary or Wilson’s Warbler.” She paused, scrunched her nose then declared, “The warbler is cute but the canary is cuter. We’re going with the canary for you.”
Totally should’ve kissed the fuck out of her right then and told her I loved her.
“What are yours?”
A few seconds later, reading from her phone she told me, “I’m a Scorpio. My gemstone is topaz. Flower is chrysanthemum. Trees are walnut, we have that in common. Also, chestnut and ash. My bird is a…. rooster,” she finished on a giggle.
Every year after that, I sent Liza red chrysanthemums on her birthday.
She’d inked my canary close to her heart.
Jesus fuck, I couldn’t breathe.
I yanked the sheet over her and stalked to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me, twisted the faucet on, undressed, and stepped into the stall before the water warmed. The cold water did nothing to kill my erection.
With the icy water pelting my back, I fisted my cock and jacked off to vivid memories of my night with Liza from a decade ago. But it was the image of a canary, my symbol on her flesh, that sent me over the edge. I quickly washed and got out. I made more noise than necessary when I brushed my teeth and shaved in hopes it would rouse Liza. Now more than ever I needed her awake and dressed before I went back into the bedroom.
Thankfully that was the case, or at least she had her oversized shirt back on. Tragically, when I walked out I was in nothing but a towel that was only a fraction larger than a hand towel.
When her eyes landed on my bare chest, she froze.
“Sorry. Forgot to bring in a change of clothes.”
She said nothing. Made no move to step away from where she was standing in front of my bag.
“Lizzy?”
Fortunately, her gaze traveled north. Unfortunately, that gaze was hungry. My unhappy dick jerked and if I wasn’t careful she’d get an eyeful.
“This isn’t going to work,” she declared.
I didn’t know what ‘this’ was, but I knew if she didn’t stop looking at me like she wanted to jump me, the ‘this’ was going to work out in ways that would leave her screaming my name.
“Can I please get dressed before we have this conversation?”
“That’s exactly what we need to talk about. Or the lack thereof of clothes.”
“I apologized?—”
“Not you.” She lifted a hand and swept it over her now clothed body. “Me. How did I wake up naked?”
Naked.
That one word was all that was needed for my mind to wander back to Liza in bed. Full, pretty tits that were more than a handful but not overly large, tipped with nipples that made my mouth water for a taste. Soft belly, toned thighs, great ass, all of which I’d touched, licked, and kissed and was ready to sign my soul to the devil for another taste.
Yeah, she was correct, this wasn’t going to work if she continued to undress in the middle of the night.
“Tucker.” My name came out in a breathy whoosh of breath.
“Move, baby, so I can get dressed.”
“I woke up naked,” she huffed.
“Yeah, you did, and the memory of that is seared into my memory in a way I know will remain fresh for a good long while. So, maybe you cut me some slack, stop reminding me I woke up with you naked and wrapped around me, and let me put on some clothes before my dick makes it known the self-induced orgasm wasn’t to its satisfaction.”
Liza’s eyes rounded then narrowed.
“You jerked off in the shower?”
Jesus fuck, this was not helping.
“Would you’ve preferred I stayed in bed next to you?” A pretty blush stole over her cheeks, her breathing increased, the air in the room seemed to come alive. Unmistakable desire danced in her eyes. “Tell me, baby, is that what you want? Next time I wake up with you naked, lying on me with your tits on my chest, you want to stay wrapped around me while I take care of myself? Or should I take care of you first? Pull your panties off, bury my face between your legs, get you off with my mouth before I stroke off?”
Her gaze dropped to the towel, traveled back up, and when our eyes met I had my answer.
Unmasked, blatant need.
“It was pretty selfish of you to leave me cold and lonely in bed.”
Liza didn’t do seduction, not in the way most women tried to seduce a man. She didn’t need to. Her charms were natural. Unpracticed. Real. The woman was sexy without trying.
“Sorry, sweetheart, you’re right. That was selfish of me. How about I make it up to you?”
One of her eyebrows lifted.
A sexy taunt that was going to mean I’d endure more torture before we left the room.
“Slip your panties off and get on the bed.”
I waited what felt like fifty-two lifetimes before her hands went under the hem of her shirt and she shimmied her pink panties down her legs. My eyes followed the material down. For some reason I couldn’t place and didn’t know why, but seeing her panties pooled around her ankles had a rush of desire-filled adrenaline hitting my gut.
“Bed.” I’d been reduced to one-syllable demands.
Liza kicked her panties to the side and as she was walking to the bed, I made a mental note to reverse my commands in the future so when I had my tongue in her pussy her panties would be hooked around her ankles. Or I’d keep them mid-thigh so they trapped her legs and stretched the elastic. I wasn’t so lost in my fantasy I missed her put a knee to the bed, presenting me with her bare ass.
“Keep that shit up, Liza, and find yourself filled with more than my fingers.”
She glanced over her shoulder, smirked, and crawled farther on the mattress before she dropped to her hip and rolled to her back.
“Spread.”
Without hesitation, she spread.
My mouth watered.
“Lose the towel.”
“Lose the shirt,” I volleyed.
Just as I knew she would, she denied my request.
“Shirt stays on.”
I didn’t need to ask why. I’d bring it up later, but first I needed to take care of my woman.
On my way to the bed, I unhooked the towel. I stopped at the side of the bed, taking in the view, memorizing it, hoping this wasn’t a mistake that turned into a setback.
Liza’s gaze dropped to my dick and she asked, “Are you just gonna stand there and stare?”
That hadn’t been the plan.
Now it was.
I hooked my hand around her ankle, yanked her closer to the side of the bed, and wrapped my other hand around my dick. With my attention transfixed on her pussy I slowly stroked my cock and used the tips of my fingers of my other hand to gently skim up her leg, stopping just shy of glistening wetness.
It didn’t take long for her to start squirming.
“Tucker,” she whined. “You’re killing me.”
Without taking my eyes off my finger skating closer to where she wanted, I noted, “Like you damn near killed me when I woke up. You got great tits, Lizzy. Pure torture having them so close to my mouth and not being able to play.”
I ran my finger up the seam of her lips from ass to clit, gathering wetness as I went. With only a hint of pressure her hips bucked.
“You could’ve,” she moaned.
“Is that your permission to wake you up with my mouth tomorrow morning?”
“Yes,” she hissed when I circled her clit with my thumb. “You should do that now. Give me your mouth, I mean.”
I tucked that permission away for tomorrow and addressed her demand.
“Is that what you want? My mouth? Or…” I halted my words in favor of show rather than an ask, and pushed two fingers deep. “Will my fingers work?”
Liza’s hips came off the bed, her legs closed around my arm, and her pussy clamped around my fingers.
“Spread, baby. Keep your legs open.”
Slowly, she opened her legs.
“Tucker, honey,” she moaned.
The sound of her moan was music to my ears. A sound I’d longed to hear again for a decade.
“Tell me, Liza. Do you want my fingers or mouth?” I asked while giving my dick a long, lazy stroke.
“Mouth.”
I’d waited a long fucking time to taste her again, so long sometimes it felt like I’d imagined the whole thing. So long I didn’t have it in me to go slow. I bent to her and ate. I didn’t care my angle was awkward, I didn’t care my dick was aching to take her a different way. I took and I feasted and I did it with my thumb at her clit, my tongue lapping up her excitement, drinking her in, loving every second.
Her hands slid into my hair, her hips bucked, and she cried out her orgasm.
I was so lost in the taste of her, the sounds she was making, having it back after not having it for so long, loving it, wanting it forever, I almost missed it—the wild. The side of my girl I’d only had once but knew it was coming. The kind of wild, if I didn’t slow this down, she’d take what she wanted and I wasn’t ready to give it to her yet.
“Take me, honey.”
There it was.
Fuck .
I slowed my thumb, giving her soft and slow after taking her hard. I kissed the inside of her thigh, straightened, and faster than I thought possible, Liza scrambled to her knees. Just as quickly, her hand latched onto my dick.
“I need this.” She swayed closer, kissing my chest while her hand worked my cock between us. “Inside me, honey.”
My resolve wavered.
Another sweet kiss brushed over my pec.
“Now, Tucker.”
Liza stroked faster, her tongue circled my nipple, her teeth teased and scraped. Sheer force of will was the only thing stopping me from tossing her on the bed, burying my cock deep, and giving her what we both wanted. Control and determination to win the battle that was us. The endgame over momentary gratification.
I knew Liza, I knew if I gave in she’d twist it. She’d make something good between us ugly. And the next time I slid into my woman, I wouldn’t be fucking her. And she wasn’t ready for what I wanted to give her, what I would be giving her. She’d get my dick, she’d get her orgasm, but with those she’d get my love. Until she was ready to hear it, ready for me to show her every part of me belonged to her, this was all I was willing to give.
My hand covered hers, slowing her motions, but not stopping her progress. I was close, so close it wasn’t going to take much more for me to explode.
“Tucker—”
“Gonna come, baby,” I warned. “Want it on your belly.”
She shook her head and brushed her lips over my nipple. I clenched my jaw and fought for control. She knew, the woman fucking knew what she was doing to me. She’d spent time exploring my body, taking her time, learning what I liked, listening, then putting it into practice, ending in spectacular results. So she knew what to do to get her way.
“Inside me.”
Fucking shit .
For a split second I wondered if I had a condom.
The little minx used my moment of hesitation to skim her lips up to my neck and bite down, snapping my control. I let go of her hand jerking me, used it to fist her hair, tugged her head back, and got her eyes.
“You want my come, Lizzy?”
Her eyes flared, already full of wild intent, sparking brighter.
Fucking beautiful.
“Yes.”
So fucking eager, my Lizzy.
“Bed. Back. Now.” I was back to grunting orders.
My heart pumped in my chest overtime to circulate whatever blood hadn’t gone to my dick, clearly there was barely any left for the rest of my body to use.
Liza scrambled back. I followed her in, stayed on my knees, hooked her legs over my thighs, shoved her tee up exposing her tits, got a hint of her tattoo, and took my cock in hand.
My eyes ate up the sight before me. Every inch of her beautiful—pussy, tits, stomach.
“So beautiful, baby.”
“Tucker,” she whispered.
I rubbed the head of my dick through her wet to her clit.
“Touch yourself for me.”
Her hand dove between her legs, her middle finger brushing the tip of my cock as she circled her clit.
“You gonna come with me, pretty girl?”
Liza’s response was to tilt her hips in offer and rub faster.
Yeah, fuck yeah, my girl had no inhibitions. Totally unreserved in her pursuit to get what she wanted.
I stroked. She rubbed. I dipped in, feeling her slick wet coat the head of my cock before I pulled back out. Over and over, just the tip, pulling out, teasing her, and torturing myself. Until I heard the hitch in her breath.
Thank fuck .
“Tuck—” Her gasp died, her neck arched, and her eyes went unfocused.
Christ, so damn gorgeous.
Just watching her was enough. My dick so fucking hard, so ready to explode, my orgasm spilled. Ropes of come hit her belly, my body rocked forward and more coated her pussy. The sight of it, of me marking her, sent a shockwave of primal possession through me. I didn’t care what that said about me. Seeing my come claiming her pussy was insanely hot. It was barbaric and raw and a show of ownership I was claiming and keeping.
All mine.
Therefore I didn’t stop myself from sliding my hand down her come-covered stomach, rubbing the evidence of my possession into her skin, gliding my hand lower, gathering more of my come on my fingers, before I pushed inside while cupping her pussy.
I kept the words I’d longed to say locked down.
And instead locked eyes on her tattoo and growled, “Mine.”
All fucking mine.
After that, I dragged her out of bed and shooed her toward the bathroom to clean up before she could protest or I fully lost my mind and demanded she not clean me off of her.
That would come later. When she understood she was mine and I was hers, I’d come in her and on her and have her walking around the rest of the day marked, knowing down to her bones how much I loved her.