39. Where are your pants?
Thirty-Nine
WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?
Liv
Iflip onto my back, bleary-eyed, scanning the dark room. I’m in a bed that isn’t mine. I take a moment to gather my bearings.
This is Luke’s room.
I sit up and look to my side.
Empty.
Luke must be asleep on the couch.
I roll my eyes. Such a gentleman. Smooth, Liv. You fell asleep and now you’re alone.
I lie back down and look up at the ceiling. The heady scent of butterscotch and oak surrounds me, and I sigh into its comfort. I can’t believe I fell asleep. I should be having incredible sex right now!
Frustration wells inside me. I can’t relax. My mouth feels dry from the bottles of wine we shared, and the jean shorts I’m wearing are digging into my sides.
Grumbling, I slip my shorts off, knowing my loose v-neck t-shirt is long enough to sleep in, and climb back into bed.
I try to settle down, but my mind is racing in a million directions.
I can probably just climb onto his lap while he’s asleep.
A man would like that, right? That’s what I’ll do.
Should I wait until morning? Wake him up now? Morning might be better.
Having decided, I close my eyes and roll to my side, trying to find sleep.
It’s impossible to relax when my mouth feels like I’m sucking on a cotton ball.
I shove the blanket off and pad to the bathroom.
The small nightlight by the sink illuminates the space enough to tell that there is no cup on the sink.
Shit.
I consider cupping my hands under the faucet, but I’m just not sure that’s going to cut it, so I make my way to the staircase, tiptoeing down toward the kitchen.
The house is so dark, I can hardly see my hand in front of my face. That settles that. I’ll wait until morning so I can at least see what I’m doing when I try to seduce him.
A small light plugged into the wall in the kitchen is the beacon that guides me.
Hands splayed out in front of me, feeling around for furniture I’d prefer not to crash into, I move silently and carefully until I’m at the counter.
Opening the cabinet, I quietly pull out a plastic cup that looks reserved for backyard barbecues and clumsy people, and fill it with water, chugging the entire thing before refilling it again.
Newly full cup of water in hand, and feeling confident I can get back to the stairs in the dark, I make my way out of the kitchen, colliding with Luke at the intersection of the hallway. The cup of water squishes between us, spilling all over my shirt, the soaked fabric now clinging to my skin.
“Holy fuck!” he cries out, startled. His hands reach up to grip my shoulders, our bodies mashed together. “Dammit, Trip. One of these days you’re going to give me an actual heart attack!” He reaches over and flicks on the hallway light at the same time I back out of his reach.
“Why the hell are you in the hallway? Where’s your shirt?
And pants?” This beautiful man is standing nearly naked in front of me.
My eyes roam up the sculpted planes of his chest, the lines of his stomach, and trace along the strip of hair that leads below the waistband of his black briefs where a prominent bulge is on display.
“I was in the bathroom! My pants? Where are your pants?”
How did I not hear him? “What, do you have a silent toilet or something?”
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he’s blatantly perusing my bare legs to my very soaked shirt, clinging to me like a second skin.
Luke shoves a hand through his hair, massaging the back of his neck.
His muscles bunch with the motion. Between that and the now obvious hard-on that’s attempting to burst through his briefs, my mind goes nearly blank except for one thing.
Need.
My nipples are fully broadcasting to the world just how turned on I am in this exact moment under my barely padded bra and drenched shirt.
Watching as Luke’s eyes take notice, a tickle flutters low in my belly.
“My shirt is wet,” I state simply.
He clears his throat. “I noticed.”
“May I borrow another until this one dries?” It’s now or never. No one is around to interrupt us this time. No need to worry if he wants me too. I know he does, and if I didn’t, that glorious length trying to break free from his boxer briefs is a solid sign.
“Of course. I’ll give you anything you need.” With the way he’s looking at me, I’m not sure a shirt is what he’s talking about anymore.
I ignore my racing heart and give in completely to the need coursing through my blood at the sight of this man. I lift my shirt up and over my head and hold it out in my hand.
Luke’s eyes roam my body as he reaches out and takes the wet shirt, placing it on the counter beside him.
“Are you sure you need a fresh shirt?” he growls. A lock of brownish-blonde hair falls into his eyes. “I quite like this look on you.”
I step into him, my body flush against his, and push the hair out of his face, running my fingers along his scalp. He grips my waist, thumbs rubbing my bare sides.
“No, I don’t need a new shirt,” I whisper, reaching up on my toes so my mouth hovers just away from his, waiting for him to close the final distance.
“That’s a fucking relief.” His mouth crashes into mine. Luke’s hands find their way under my ass, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around him. As if I weigh nothing, he carries me through the cottage and up the stairs to his bedroom, our mouths tangling together feverishly.
His arousal throbs against my belly, turning my insides molten as he carries me to the bed.
Sitting on the edge of the bed so I’m straddling him, I gasp as Luke gives my ass one more squeeze before running his hands up the length of my back.
He grips my hair, tugging the end, effectively pulling my face from his, exposing my neck.
His soft lips kiss and stroke my skin. Goosebumps race down my arms as a shiver of pleasure races through me.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he murmurs, palming my breasts, squeezing them together and kissing the swell of cleavage while his fingers tease the tips of my nipples.
He pulls one lace cup down and draws me into his mouth, sucking greedily, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.
An involuntary hiss of pleasure escapes me as he makes his way to the other nipple.
I unclasp my bra and watch him as he watches me slip each bra strap down until it’s in a puddle on the floor behind me.
He hums a sound of appreciation. His hands massage my breasts, mouth kissing along my jaw.
“So, you’re a boob guy?” I joke, grinding my center into him.
“With you, I’m an everything guy. There isn’t a single part of you that hasn’t taken my breath away so far.”
I drag my fingers along his chest, stroking down his stomach, grazing the tip of his cock, relishing in the shudder that wracks his body.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
“I work out.” His breath is heavy, fanning my heated skin as my hand reaches between us, gripping him and slowly stroking up and down along the fabric of his briefs. He groans, dropping his head forward onto my shoulder.
Emboldened, I slip from Luke’s lap, pulling him into a standing position. Slipping my fingers into the sides of his briefs, I pull them down as I slide down to my knees. Free from confinement, his arousal bobs proudly before me.
“Trip.” Luke reaches down and cups my chin. “You don’t have—”
I brush his hand away and grip his length, running my thumb over the velvety skin at the tip.
“You said you’d give me anything I need, and right now, this is what I need. Are you going to deny me?” I say, raising my eyebrows.
He stares at me, eyes hooded. “So difficult,” Luke says behind a soft smile. Somehow, when he says it, it sounds like something admirable.
His rough fingers stroke my cheek. “And so beautiful.” My eyes fall closed, leaning into his touch until he lifts my chin so I’m looking up at him.
Our eyes lock, and I slide my hand around, gripping the back of his thigh, while my other hand strokes slowly down Luke’s girth, bringing him toward my mouth.
Luke’s heated stare watches every move, pushing the loose hair out of my face.
Taking my time, I lick along the rigid length, hand gliding up and down in long, slow strokes. I flick my tongue against the sensitive skin at the tip.
“Fuck,” his entire body tenses when I close my mouth around him.
I pull back, cheeks hollowing out, stroking my tongue across his skin, then taking him deeper into my mouth.
The sound of his pleasure sends a tingling zing of awareness between my legs.
My thighs clench, stomach fluttering. I manage two more long strokes of my tongue before he growls, pulling me up with a spin and planting me on the soft mattress.
Luke climbs over me as he spreads my knees to fit his body between them. “I’m not ready to come yet, and it’s embarrassing how quickly that sweet mouth of yours brought me a little too close to the edge. So, now it’s my turn.” His lips turn up in a wicked smile.
Luke's hand slides down my stomach until it finds the warmth between my legs.
I suck in a breath as his fingers caress my sensitive skin above the fabric of my underwear.
Unhurried, he glides his mouth across my skin, beginning with my neck, kissing and nipping as he works his way down, hovering over my breasts.
One hand still toying with my center in languid strokes, his tongue darts out, swirling around my nipple while the hairs on his face tickle my skin.
The flurry of sensations is more than I can bear.
Arching my back, I push my chest into him.
Luke releases a chuckle as his mouth makes its way to my other breast, teasing my nipple with his teeth, creating a brief but tantalizing sting of pain that’s just as quickly swept away with a stroke of his tongue.
I reach for him, desperately wanting to touch him, but he grabs my wrist, placing it above my head, then grabs the other, pinning them to the bed with one hand.