10. Maybe This Time #3
I shudder at the friction but do my best to ignore the feeling. “You left this morning.” I hate that I mention this.
He frowns, his eyes regretful. “I was trying not to pressure you.”
“So you gave me lady blue balls instead?”
He busts out laughing, his shoulders shaking. “Jesus, I thought that was only a Jules thing.”
Locking my legs behind him more securely, I grab his face with both hands. “What do you know about Jules’ lady blue balls?”
Laughing harder, it takes him a minute to answer. “I was worried when you didn’t answer me when I said goodbye this morning, so I asked Jules about it.” He looks embarrassed, eyes shifting to the side. “She mentioned lady blue balls, but I didn’t believe it was a thing.”
I chuckle, imagining his expression after Jules dropped that morsel of knowledge on him.
I place my hands back on his shoulders, my eyes lowering to watch a droplet of water slide down his neck into the hollow of his collarbone.
My laughter fades as more insecurities I didn’t know I had, and can’t seem to fight, surface.
“I thought maybe you didn’t want to after our talk last night.
About what I… told you about my past and?—”
“Hey.” Ian waits until I find the courage to peek up at him.
When I do, I’m shocked by the intensity of his gaze.
“You are all I’ve wanted since you hollered out that ridiculous greeting across a bunch of drunk engineers at the bar.
I love your friendly nature. Your self-made drive.
What you told me only makes me want you more. You are so impressive, Trish Garrett.”
Pressure I didn’t know was weighing me down since this morning vanishes, bringing my smile back, and with it hot tears of relief. Hopefully they blend in with the pool water dripping off me.
“Besides, I thought you were embarrassed over what I told you.”
I frown, not following him. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs, the movement doing delicious things to his pectorals. “I thought you moved into the guest room this morning because you maybe weren’t attracted to me now that you know I’m a grown man afraid of small spaces.”
“That’s just ridiculous. That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Smiling, Ian slides his hands from my thighs up my back, wrapping them around me, pulling me in for a hug, the embrace more intimate than sex.
Though our bodies are aligned, and from the pressure behind his Speedo, more than primed for sex, my stupid heart has me sinking into his arms, grabbing hold of his affection like a starved animal. I have a feeling it might be the same for Ian too.
I may have had a one-night stand or two over the years when loneliness found me, leaving town the next day to sever all connections, but since the day I started running, I’ve never had this. This sense of understanding. This feeling of…
My thoughts cause my body to stiffen. I push back from his embrace.
Blinking into his handsome face with his sincere gaze, I struggle to come back to reality. Don’t you dare, Patty Anne Garrett. Don’t you dare fall in love with this man.
I don’t know if Ian can sense my panic, or if my now tense body foreshadows my desire to run, or maybe he just does it because he wants to. Maybe all of the above.
But he kisses me.
It’s not a peck.
It’s powerful and deep. Consuming.
Drowning me in emotion so strong reality seems but a dream.
The kiss goes on, my tears mixing with the chlorine.
Moving through the water, Ian climbs the ladder attached to the side, keeping me wrapped around his front.
If my swimsuit wasn’t already soaked, it would be now.
“We’ll get water in the house,” I say absently as we reach the door. “It’ll ruin the floors.”
“You’re right.” Ian sets me down in front of the French doors. “We should strip. Protect the floors.” In one smooth move, he bends, pushing his bathing suit to the patio floor with a wet smack. Rising, he stands tall. Both him and his beautiful penis.
I tilt my head, considering it, trying to control my breathing.
It’s long enough that it takes both hands fisting from root to tip to cover it.
I know because that’s exactly what I do, reaching out to stroke and squeeze.
It’s smooth and flawless, its length and girth highlighted by a throbbing vein running down its side.
I’ve never really considered penises beautiful, more like a blunt instrument for orgasms, but Ian is once again changing the way I think.
“Trish.” His voice like a prayer as he drops his forehead to mine.
He lets me continue exploring while he reaches around me, unhooking my top. When it drops between us, my nipples exposed to the air, he pushes my hands away from his cock before dropping down on one knee, eyes level with my navel.
His lips trail light, worshipful kisses on my belly, his long fingers skimming the tops of my thighs, running under the ruffle of my suit.
“This bathing suit,” he murmurs. “I love this bathing suit.”
Then it’s off, dragged down my legs, the cold, wet fabric leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Or maybe that’s from Ian, whose lips have traveled lower as well, kissing above the thatch of hair on my mound, pushing my legs open wider as I step out from my suit.
His tongue flicks out, grazing my clit.
“Dear Lord.” My shoulders drop back against the door.
“I would devour you right here, right now,” Ian says, kissing and licking, “but I’m not going to lie, my knees are killing me.”
I look down, realizing he’s kneeling on the textured concrete of the patio floor, and laugh.
“You think that’s funny, huh?” He rises, picking me up again.
Like muscle memory, my legs wrap around his waist, his perfect, beautiful penis rubbing against me, making me whimper.
With one hand, he reaches out and opens the kitchen door. The cold air from the air-conditioning hits my skin, intensifying the chills running across it but doing nothing to douse the heat from within.
Striding across the kitchen, Ian walks to where his wallet and keys are. Still holding me, he flips open his wallet, sliding out a condom.
“Always prepared, huh?” I ask, still smiling.
He gives me a quick kiss before walking back toward the TV room. “You guys are always calling me Captain America. He’s the quintessential boy scout, right? Always prepared?”
I answer with another kiss, this one not a peck. Ian has to stop and prop me against the pantry door to give the kiss his full attention before finishing his trek to the living room.
Our pillow and blanket fort is still strewn out across the floor. “I’m going to show you exactly what I wanted to do to you last night.” He lays me down, the soft chenille fabric making my over-sensitized body writhe like a cat. “You’re going to see just how much I held back.”
“Don’t hold back.” I reach up to pull him down. “Don’t hold back,” I repeat, not sure if I’m talking to him or to myself.
We kiss, our hands rapidly exploring once more, wanting to touch and be touched everywhere and all at once.
Breaking free from my mouth, Ian sucks and bites a trail down my neck, across my collarbone, and between my breasts, which he tweaks with his hands, before finally reaching where I need him most.
He slides his hands under my ass, lifting me to his mouth. Sunlight streams in through the large windows, my legs wide and open, every line and imperfection of my body on display. I’ve never been so exposed to a man before, physically or emotionally. And yet there’s no panic. I feel safe.
I want more.
His tongue curls inside me, flicking up and out to circle my clit. Up and down, back and forth. Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, my hips twitching, unsure if I want more or less, his lips encircle it and suck.
I break apart with a scream.
My body tenses while pleasure wraps around me. Ian raises his head, watching me climax, kissing my hips, my thighs, my belly. The palm of his hand presses against me, intensifying the orgasm. “That’s it,” Ian praises me. “So beautiful.”
When I’m boneless against the pillows, he covers me. As we kiss, I hear the telltale crinkle of plastic, his shoulders and arms shifting between us as he slides the condom on. He notches himself against my opening.
“Trish.” Ian’s breath hot against my skin. “Tell me this is okay. Tell me you want this.”
Never more serious in my life, I stare into his blue eyes. “I want this.”
He thrusts in, hard and fast. My inner walls, still pulsing from my earlier orgasm, grab him tightly. He swivels his hips, his long, lean swimmer’s body pressing against mine.
“Please,” I beg. “Move. I need…” My nails claw at his back.
“What do you need, Trish? Tell me what you need.” Ian pulls back, then pushes forward with a shallow thrust. “I want to give you everything you need.”
“More. Harder.” I grab his face in my hands, staring into his eyes again. “I need more of you. Now .”
I can only imagine how wild my eyes must look as Ian answers my demand, pounding into me, my small body jerking with each surge of his hips.
I scream, my heels digging into his ass, trying to get him deeper, trying to let him reach inside me, touch me where no one else has before.
It isn’t until we both go hoarse from our orgasms, our breathing evening out as we pant from exertion, that I realize Ian already has.
He’s touched my heart.
Ian
Night’s fallen. We’re back in my bed.
My arms are wrapped around Trish once more, though this time we’re naked. Naked spooning is the best.
After the desperate and intense sex in the living room, my brain came back online, and I carried Trish upstairs where I loved her slowly. Leisurely. Like I should have this morning.
Not once did she pull away. Progress.
I kiss the top of her head, her wild hair tickling my nose. “You should move your stuff into my room.”
Her shoulders tense, creating a half inch of space between us that wasn’t there before.
Shit.
“What do you mean?” The thread of panic in her voice has me backtracking.
“I looked in the guest room, it’s a disaster area.” I squeeze her close, eliminating the small space.
“Hush, you.” She jabs her elbow at me, laughing. “I know I need to straighten up.”
Holding her to me, I tilt my head down to nuzzle her neck, hoping to distract her from the meaning behind my words.
“If you need more room for your stuff, I have a lot of empty closet space.” I thought I’d be satisfied with all Trish has given me, but it’s only made me want more of her. Greedy. I want all of her in my life.
There’s a beat of silence before Trish speaks. “The thing with your parents is tomorrow, right?” she asks, ignoring my closet comment.
The only bad thing about naked spooning is that I can’t see her face, gauge her expression. “Yes.” I keep my tone light. “I have meetings I can’t miss throughout the day, but I’ll pick you up after work so we can drive over together.”
“Mmm. Okay.”
Just when I think she’s fallen asleep, she asks, “I meant to ask, why was me going with you to a black tie event your favor for letting me stay here? Why do you need a date?” Her sleepy voice sounds more awake as she talks.
Sighing, I tell her the truth. “I figured it was the easiest way to get my father off my back about fixing me up with one of his cronies’ daughters.”
She laughs again, the huff of breath blowing across my arm that’s hugging her to me. “I’m your shield, huh?”
I laugh with her. “Yeah. You’re my knight in shining armor.”
Trish turns in my arms, facing me. “I’m your fake girlfriend knight, then?”
I kiss the tip of her nose. “It doesn’t have to be fake.”
Trish angles her head down, staring at my chest, one of her fingers swirling across my pecs. “Why don’t you just tell your father no?” she asks, once again ignoring the things I say that she isn’t ready for.
I sigh, trying to release frustration. Frustration over Trish’s hesitance and over the topic of my father. “My father tends to make everything difficult, so I try not to deal with him head on. It’s easier this way.”
More silence.
Then, in a small voice, she asks, “But why me? You could’ve brought anyone as your date.” Her fingertip stills over my heart. “They probably would’ve been easier to deal with too.”
I tighten my arms around her, unable to get her close enough. “There’s no one else I want by my side.” Trish snuggles in deeper, as if she shares my thoughts. I need to be more patient.
Worry over tomorrow’s event rises. Maybe bringing Trish with me to see my parents isn’t the best idea.
Not for me, but for her. We’ve come so far.
I don’t want to push now and scare her away.
“You don’t have to come if you’re uncomfortable.
” Releasing one arm wrapped around her, I tip her head back until she meets my eyes.
“You don’t have to feel like you owe me or that you have to go. ”
The insecurity leaves her expression as she smiles slow and sexy. “I don’t know. Being Captain America’s shield sounds pretty awesome.” Her hand slides up to the back of my nape, pulling me to her.
My body can’t help but respond. “You sure?” Worries drift away as I press my lips to hers.
“Mmmm,” she hums against my mouth, sliding her tongue inside while her small hand wraps around my rising hard-on, her thumb swirling the pre-cum at the top.
I groan, my mind blanking with pleasure. Not a thought of my parents, Trish’s insecurities, or my tentative grasp on this illusive woman is in my mind.
It’s filled with the sensation of Trish’s body against mine. The seductive sounds of her breath in my ears. The rhythmic beating of our hearts pounding into the night.