Chapter 17 Liza
Liza
“These fucking leggings are about to be the death of me,Tiger,” Blue says, pulling me close once we’re safely in the confines of his bedroom.
It’s a roommate-free zone since Dutton and Bridgette are having dinner with his parents tonight, and we are taking full advantage of having the third floor all to ourselves.
“Tiger?” I question. “Did you just pet name me?”
“Yeah, it fits. You’re cute as hell, but you’ve got claws.”
“We don’t need pet names.,” I remind him. I’m also reminding myself because this isn’t a real relationship. It’s a delightful series of mutual transactions.
“Yeh, we do,” he claims. “I saw it on the list.”
“Stop, no you didn’t,” I say, smacking him playfully. “And what’s wrong with my leggings? They're so soft and comfy. And they have pockets! I love them.”
“And they hug your ass like a second skin. By the way, I love them, too. But I want them off.”
“That can be arranged,” I tell him. “But why are you in such a hurry? Dutton and Bridgette won’t be back for a couple of hours. And why are you swearing? I thought you gave that up when you found out you were going to be a cat grandpa.”
“I’m in a hurry because you wore these leggings at practice and I couldn’t stop staring at or thinking about your ass,” he says, smacking it lightly as he turns on his bedside lamp and switches off the big overhead light, bathing the room in a soft, warm glow.
“And I was going to give up swearing. But then I talked to Hazel about it, and she said that it was a stupid fucking idea. My cat’s kind of a genius. ”
I laugh. And that’s the crazy thing. Yes, I’m having fun exploring my body with Blue, but I’m also just having fun with Blue. I never thought such a thing was possible, but here we are.
“Okay, so, now that you’ve got me alone, and we’ve got some time, what do you want to do?” I ask. I know that our choices are ultimately up to me, but sometimes I get overwhelmed thinking of all the possibilities.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” he says. “And if you’ve got your heart set on something different, just say the word. But I’m thinking I’d like to eat you out until your whole body is shaking and you can’t remember what day it is.”
“You know what? That works for me.”
“Good,” he says. “Now strip out of these leggings and lie back on the bed. I’m going to kneel right here and eat my fill.”
There’s no way in hell I’m arguing with that plan, so I peel my leggings and panties off my body and sit down on the bed.
I watch as he strips his shirt off and then caresses my thighs with his palms. Arousal pools between my legs.
It’s almost embarrassing, but the anticipation of being with him gets me so hot that I walk around ready for him half the time.
I’m not telling him that, though. It would go to his head.
But judging by the look on his face when he parts my sensitive flesh, he already knows.
I lean back on my elbows so I can watch because I like watching him when he goes down on me.
He’s taking his time and driving me crazy, but the payoff is going to be so good that I don’t really mind.
I spread my legs as he finally moves to my center and places a kiss there.
It’s all I can do not to tilt my hips upward and press myself against his face.
But I restrain myself, and my patience is rewarded when he parts my folds with his fingers and laps at me with his tongue.
His head is bobbing up and down in rhythmic motion as he tastes and teases me.
My hands grip his billion thread count sheets as I revel in his touch.
Nothing could tear me away from this moment.
I’m finally learning to let go and let myself experience pleasure instead of seizing up because I’m worried I won’t be able to climax.
Blue has gotten me there every single time, but even if all I get is this incredible feeling, I’m not going to complain.
This is heaven and I don’t want it to stop.
But then it stops.
“What the—”
“Do you hear that?” he asks, looking up at me.
His lips are wet with my arousal, and that makes me want to grab him by the back of the collar and put his mouth back where it belongs.
“I don’t hear anything. It’s probably—” I stop speaking when I hear the ping.
It’s both dull and a little high-pitched, and I have no idea where the sound is coming from. And frankly, I don’t care.
Ping. Ping. Ping. There it goes again. It’s a little more urgent now. “Maybe it’s somebody’s alarm?” I ask.
It sounds again, more rapidly this time, making Blue turn toward the window that’s next to his bedside table.
“Holy fuck. It isn’t anybody’s alarm. Hold on.”
He shuffles a foot or so toward the window and then yanks it up, letting a blast of cold air in.
“What the hell do you—Jesus! Are you throwing rocks at me?”
“No, man. Sorry to bug you. But I’m making burgers, and I thought I’d be polite and ask if you want one.” Mickey’s disembodied voice carries up and into the room.
“I’m good, thanks,” Blue calls down.
“You sure? Cause we’ve got plenty. Leo’s my sous chef. Isn’t that a cool word? They say it all the time on the cooking shows. Now I get to say it.”
“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Blue says. “You guys have fun. I’ll see you later.”
“Ok, but if you change your mind,” Mickey says, his voice trailing off.
I hear Leo interject. “I think he’s good, Mick. He’s probably busy.”
“Oh, shit. Did we interrupt something? And what are you doing on the floor”
“Yeah,” I whisper, “what are you doing on the floor?”
Blue shoots me an icy look before turning back to the window. “It’s all good. There’s a, um, spill I’m working on clean up. It’s a real mess up here. And I’ve got to work very hard and quickly, so—”
“Oh, shit. Is Hazel okay? Doug and I read that incontinence is common in late feline pregnancy. It’s nothing for her to be embarrassed about.”
Nope. It’s all good. I just spilled some candle wax.
It’s super hot, though, so I better get to it before it stains.
It splattered everywhere. This candle was dripping wet,” he says, giving me a look, “and then it just exploded. Now I’ve got a lot of work to do, so I’ll see you later. Enjoy your burgers.”
Finally, he slams the window shut and turns out the bedside lamp. We’re bathed in darkness, but I can see the gleam in his eyes.
“Candle wax, really? And it was dripping everywhere, huh? Made such a mess?”
Blue cocks his head to the side. “What was I supposed to say, Liza? Sorry I can’t eat right now, guys, my mouth is about to be full of our very delicious equipment manager.”
“Oh, my god. Stop. You are ridiculous.”
“Yeah?” he says, putting his hands back on my thighs. “Well, you’re a freaking vixen. You know what I think I saw on that list of yours? Orgasm denial. Maybe we should try that.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I say, calling his bluff and hoping to hell that I’m right.
“Fucking try me,” he answers, dipping his head back between my legs.
As much as I hate the thought of being denied the kind of pleasure I know he can give me, the idea is hot. At least my body thinks so as a fresh wave of arousal courses through me.
Blue swears a filthy streak as he grips my ass and licks his lips. “You like that idea, Liza? You want me to see how long I can make you wait?”
“No way,” I answer honestly. “It’s hot in the abstract, but I’m feeling very impatient right now.”
Damn the man because he still takes his time licking and sucking every inch of my hips, thighs, and belly.
He’s put his lips everywhere, but now I want them back where they were, so I thread my fingers into his soft, wavy dark hair and direct him accordingly.
He gets the message because he moans against my core and the vibrations drive me crazy.
Using his palms to lift my ass, he fucking feasts on me until I’m nothing but a pile of goo.
When I don’t think I can take any more, he looks up at me, his lips and mustache a gleamy, sexy mess, and smiles. “You ready to come on my face?”
The words and image are so hot, so forbidden that I tumble over into ecstasy, unable to hold back my orgasm for one more second.
I lie back on his bed, a quivering, sated mess.
This man is going to ruin me.
And I might just let him.