Chapter 23 Blue
Blue
Is this what dating feels like? I haven’t been in many relationships, and the ones I’ve had have been pretty casual, so I’m no expert.
But it feels like I’m dating Liza. Like she’s my girlfriend.
Like we’re away for the weekend and we’re about to tear into the cache of sex toys we bought earlier today.
And I like it.
Not just the sex toy part, either. I like all of it.
Listening to music on the way down here, grabbing a bite to eat and just talking about our lives—it’s all been so easy, so natural.
I don’t want to jinx anything, but Liza’s starting to let her guard down, and I’m wondering if she feels as comfortable—as good—as I do.
I scan the key card into the lock and hold the door open so she can go in first. This was the one of the last few rooms they had, and the only suite, so there’s plenty of space—not that we’ll need much.
The weather should clear up by midafternoon tomorrow, so if traffic’s not too bad, we should make it back into town just before the guys do.
I pull off my hoodie and drape it over the back of a chair to dry. I probably should have worn a jacket today, but I never even thought to look at the weather forecast, and, honestly, I’m glad I didn’t or else we probably wouldn’t be here.
Turning toward the center of the room, I spot Liza pulling off her sweatshirt, as well.
And her leggings. I damn near swallow my tongue.
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen her naked or how often I’ve kissed the soft flesh of her inner thighs.
Every time I see her body, I’m a goner. “Are those wet from the snow?” I ask, pausing to clear my throat.
“I can see if there are laundry facilities so we can run them through the dryer.”
Liz shakes her head as she finishes shimmying out of her clothes before draping them across another armchair.
She walks toward me, not stopping until we’re only about a foot apart.
I stare, transfixed, as she stands before me in just a pair of gray cotton panties and a matching sports bra.
It’s not the kind of stuff that’s designed to be sexy.
It’s made for comfort. But holy fucking hell does she look good.
“That’s not necessary. My clothes will be dry by morning,” she tells me, toying with her ponytail. “And I wasn’t planning on wearing anything to bed tonight, were you?”
“Naked works for me,” I tell her as I sit on the edge of the bed to unstrap my air cast. I expect Liza to crawl onto the bed next to me, but instead, she kneels on the floor in front of me, her hands covering mine as she gently helps me free my leg from the stupid boot I’ve got to wear for the next few days.
It’s a sweet gesture, and again, it feels relationship-y.
That’s probably not a word, but it should be.
“How’s your ankle?” she asks, looking and finding my eyes. “If you just need to prop it up and relax tonight—”
“It’s fine,” I assure her as I work pants down my legs and leave them lying in a puddle on the floor. “I had it propped on the chair next to you while we ate, and it really is feeling better. I’ll ice it later and elevate it, but right now I don’t want to think about my ankle or my injury.”
“What would you like to think about?” Liza’s flirty smile is genuine. There’s not a coy bone in her body, and that’s one of the things I like most about her: she’s genuine. There’s no pretense with Liza DeWalt. What you see is what you get and that’s a rare quality where I come from.
The right answer to her question is the checklist. It’s not only logical, it’s safe. That list is part of the reason we’re here in the first place and it’s an actual, practical reason for what we’re about to do.
But it’s not the whole truth.
I don’t care about ticking off the boxes on a checklist. I don’t care about making notes and comparing one method to another.
Not really, not in a clinical way. I care about making Liza feel good.
I care about her pleasure, her confidence, her raw and uninhibited desire.
I care about what Liza feels and wants in the moment.
I care about Liza.
Not just as a housemate or a friend.
Not as a partner in a quest for great sex.
As a person.
As a woman.
As a lover.
I’m falling so damn hard and fast for Liza that I should be panicking, breaking out into a cold sweat and running for the door.
Instead, I’m diving right in.
I could stop all of this right now by telling her my ankle feels a little tight, and that, on second thought, I should rest it right now.
My ankle doesn’t feel tight at all, though. At least, I don’t think it does. The only body part currently checking in with my brain is my dick and it’s so hard it could cut glass.
I hear myself gasp as Liza’s finger traces a path along my outer thigh. Who the fuck knew that was an erogenous zone?
“You never answered me,” she says, her brow furrowing a little as her hand moves back up my leg. “So I’m going to take matters into my own hands. Unless that’s a problem for you?”
Nothing in the world is a problem for me right now, not while Liza runs her hand over my hard length.
When she slips a hand under the waistband of my boxers, I swear to fuck I get a little dizzy.
Leaning back, I prop myself up on my elbows to enjoy the view.
She works me over, freeing my cock while she’s licking her lips.
“You don’t have to—”
She cuts my words off when she presses her lips to the tip of my dick.
I’m not sure I’ll be capable of coherent speech or rational thought ever again.
All I can do is babble things that sound vaguely like yes, fuck, and holy fucking please.
She’s gripping my base and gliding her lips and tongue over my dick like it’s a damn ice cream cone and she’s starving.
I love every minute of it. The fire in her eyes, the confidence she exudes as she turns my whole damn world upside down.
Watching Liza come into her own like this is such a turn on.
She’s a badass everywhere, including the bedroom, and I’m here for it.
My dick is leaking and when she cups my balls with her right hand and gently squeezes, I feel a jolt of electricity race through my body. Damn, that feels good. My hips thrust forward, letting her know with absolute certainty that everything she’s doing is working for me.
I’m on the edge here and we haven’t even started playing with the toys.
I’m completely fucked, and that’s just fine by me.
But I don’t want to come like this. Not yet, anyway.
Gently stilling her movements, I reach for her hand and pull her onto the bed with me. “Your mouth is going to be the death of me.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” she sasses. “I thought you’d want to come. I, personally, am a huge fan of it.”
“Oh, yeah? And how did you become such a fan?”
Her answering smile makes my knees weak.
I reach for the bag and sift through it until I find what I’m looking for.
We’ll have to clean and charge a bunch of the stuff in here before we use it, but these silk restraints are ready to go.
Best damn purchase I ever made. “I want to try something,” I tell her, showing her the soft lengths of fabric.
Excitement dawns in her eyes, and that gives me a thrill, too.
Introducing Liza to things she never even considered has been fun as hell, but it’s also satisfying in a way I hadn’t expected.
I don’t just want to see her try new things. I want to experience them with her.
“What did you have in mind?” she asks.
“Whatever you want,” I answer honestly. “These will heighten the sensation. We could use them like a blindfold, or to bind your wrists or ankles together. There are tons of possibilities.”
She takes one of the strips in her hands and plays with it for a second before looking back up at me. “Or I could use this to gag you, and then I could get back to what I was doing earlier. That’s an option, too, right?”
Holy freaking shit. This woman has no idea she just described my idea of a damn good time. But the way my dick twitches against the smooth skin of her belly probably gives her a clue.
“I think you like that idea,” she observes.
“You are correct,” I say, not bothering to hide the truth. “But I need to get my hands and mouth on you first.”
“Then don’t let me stop you,” she says, tossing the silk tie at me before stretching her arms above her head and crossing her wrists.
The movement makes her back arch slightly, and puts her breasts on display.
I unsnap the front closure of her bra, releasing her perfect globes, and I can’t resist kissing her pert nipples before I wrap the restraint around her wrist. It’s loose enough so she can easily break free, but when she grips the headboard with her bound hands, I know we’re moving in the right direction.
She wants this, needs this, as much as I do.
I move my way back down her body, shimmying her panties off and flinging them onto the floor. Resting back on my heels, I stroke my length as I look at her. “You’re fucking beautiful, all laid out here for me. I want to taste every inch of you, but I don’t know where to start.”
“Are you sure about that?” she asks, spreading her legs a bit wider and offering her perfect pussy to me.
Fuck. I can see her arousal from here.“I liked going down on you,” she says, as if she’s explaining why she’s wet and ready for me before I’ve even touched her.
“I liked sucking you into my mouth. I liked feeling your cock hit the back of my throat. I like the way you made me feel so full, and that’s what I want more of. I want you to fill me up.”