Chapter 11
NOVA
Lawson’s fingertips dance down my spine, making me shiver. “I can’t move,” I tell him. “I think you melted my bones.”
He chuckles, leaning in to kiss the side of my neck.
We’re lying in his bed, me on my stomach, Lawson propped up on an elbow at my side.
“I think I like you boneless,” he says. “All spread out and sleepy.” He replaces his fingertips with his lips, pressing soft kisses to each bump of my spine, not stopping until he reaches my ass. He kisses that, too, groaning softly.
“You’re still all red for me, baby,” he says, voice dark, hands coming up to rub at my slightly stinging flesh. “So pretty with my hand prints on you.”
I shiver against the mattress, and I can feel his lips tilting into what I know is a smug smile when he kisses lower down my ass.
In the three weeks since I’ve been sleeping with Lawson Barlow, I’ve been introduced to a number of new things.
First there was the sex at work—something I had never dreamed of doing but have now succumbed to three times.
He was just so hard to resist when he showed up to pick me up from a shift, his eyes hot every time they landed on my tattoo table, like he was remembering exactly what we’d done there that first night.
The new experiences didn’t stop there. We’d had sex in his truck, up against the door to his apartment, bent over the kitchen counter. When we were together, it was like we were insatiable. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
And the sex was…man. I’ve never experienced anything like it.
It wasn’t just the new-to-me locations and positions.
It was Lawson. The way he touched me, the way he made me feel.
The way he took control. I’d never thought I would like that during sex, but nothing made me come harder or faster than Lawson telling me what to do in bed.
All he had to do was restrain my hands and I was a goner.
Tonight, he’d taken the whole dominating thing a step further. Which is why he’s currently admiring the red hand prints on my ass.
“You were so brave for me,” he murmurs in that low, raspy voice that sends fresh heat careening through my belly.
“You took everything I wanted to give you, didn’t you?
” His fingers slip between my legs and I moan into the pillow, shifting my hips to try and get more friction.
He seems satisfied to tease me though, his fingers sliding lazily over my wet center.
“You took your spanking so well.” His mouth comes down on the spot where I know his handprint is still visible, pressing a hot, wet kiss there.
“And then you took my dick like such a good girl.”
“Lawson,” I whine.
“Yeah, baby. Keep saying my name just like that while I have another taste”
Then his mouth replaces his fingers between my legs, strong hands going to my hips to tilt my ass upward, giving him better access.
And just like that, I’m lost to him all over again.
It doesn’t matter that we just had sex twenty minutes ago, or that he’d made me scream his name in the shower this morning before I went to work.
Lawson Barlow touches me and I respond. Every single time.
An hour later, we’re back in our same positions in his bed, and I’m feeling even more boneless than before. I’m on my front, Lawson at my side, our faces close on the pillow we’re sharing.
“I think you’re going to kill me, gorgeous,” he says as he smooths my hair back over my shoulder. His voice is softer than usual, the way it gets late at night when we’re lying together like this.
And we lay together like this an awful lot.
At first, I assumed our hook-ups would be just that—two people crashing into each other to find relief before going their separate ways.
That’s why I left his bed just minutes after the condom came off that first time.
Lawson didn’t seem like the cuddle-after-sex type and I didn’t want to put him in a position to have to ask me to leave.
After we had sex in my tattoo room, he didn’t give me a choice. He practically dragged me to his truck, insisting he’d drive me back to get my car after a round two at his apartment. Instead, he’d kept me there, in his bed, for the next twenty-four hours.
I hadn’t complained.
Since then, every time we have sex, he holds me after.
Sometimes he convinces me to stay the night.
He’s made me breakfast a few times, or ordered us delivery in between rounds.
Last week I tried to cancel plans because of a terrible headache but he showed up at my place with food, aspirin, and an ice pack.
He stayed over that night—even though we didn’t have sex and my bed is far too small for him.
So, yeah. This wasn’t really what I envisioned when we decided to hook up until I left at the end of the summer. And the fact that just picturing leaving is starting to make me feel sick…well, that’s something I push down real deep and try not to think about.
“Can I ask you something?” he murmurs.
The seriousness in his voice has my guard going up, but I nod anyhow.
“Have you always been a submissive?”
I blink at him, surprised. “I…what?”
He just watches me with his dark steady gaze. “You’re submissive. During sex.”
“Am I?” I squeak out, and he chuckles, pulling me a little closer.
“I’d say so. You come pretty fucking hard when I hold you down. And that spanking earlier got your pussy crazy wet.”
I blush. “For a guy who doesn’t talk much, you have a pretty dirty mouth.”
He smirks. “You love it.” His hand comes up to grip my hip, his thumb brushing steady circles on my skin. “Did you really not know you like to be controlled in bed?”
I shift a little, trying not to let my discomfort take over. “I’m actually not that…you know. Experienced.”
His eyebrows go up at that. “Define not that experienced.”
I shrug, not meeting his eyes. “It’s not like I don’t have sex or anything. I just usually only have one-night stands.” His fingers clench against my hip, hard enough to sting. When I wince, he immediately loosens his hold, but his eyes are flashing, dark and dangerous.
“Are you pissed I’m talking about this?” I ask. “You do know you’re the one who asked?”
“Not pissed,” he growls. “Just insanely jealous.” He takes a deep breath. “Keep going. I’ll keep it together.”
I bring my hand to his chest, rubbing my own gentle circles there. He always seems to like my touch. His entire body relaxes like I’m calming him.
“With the way I grew up, the way my mom is…” I sigh.
“It was always another man, you know? Another boyfriend, another husband. And he always came first. He wanted to move? We moved. He wanted to go live in some eco-village commune in the Ozarks? We went to live in an eco-village commune in the Ozarks.”
Lawson is frowning at me. “When you talk about your childhood, you’re usually telling me some funny story. Your mom dropping everything to chase random men around doesn’t sound very funny.”
I manage a wry smile. “It wasn’t. It fucking sucked.” I look up into his dark eyes. “I don’t want to be like her, Lawson. Not ever. So I don’t let guys get close. I don’t do more than a night or two. It helps me to stay focused on what’s important.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “You’ve let me have you way more than a night or two.”
My mouth is starting to feel dry. This is getting way too close to things I really don’t think we should talk about. So I plaster a smirk on my face, deciding light is the way to go. “You can be very persuasive.”
He smiles, too, but he doesn’t seem deterred. “So you’ve only had one night stands with guys,” he presses. “And that relates to being submissive because…”
“I’m not even sure I am submissive.” I’m embarrassed now. “It’s actually really hard to figure out what you like when you don’t see the guy for more than a few minutes of fun.”
His expression clears. “You never trusted anyone enough to explore this stuff.”
I nod, not meeting his eyes.
“But you trust me.” His voice is husky now, sending shivers down to my toes. He pulls me even closer, so my front is pressed to his, and my nipples immediately harden at the contact with his bare chest. Like I said—he touches me and I respond.
“You liked it when I took control in the hot air balloon,” he says. “You liked it that first night when I held your hands over your head.”
I shiver at the mere memory. “That night…it was so intense, Lawson.”
“Mmmhmm,” he agrees, practically growling.
“I felt like I was going to fly apart into a million pieces. But when you held me like that, it was like…I don’t know. I felt safe. Like you were anchoring me.”
His expression shifts again, but I can’t read it this time. It almost looks like awe in his gaze. Before I can identify it, he’s pulling me into a long, languid kiss. “I’ll always keep you safe,” he promises against my lips. “I’ll be your fucking anchor, Nova.”
Until I leave, I think, and my chest aches.
“Anyhow,” I say, trying to brighten my voice, because this is getting way too heavy, way too fast. “Since we’ve been hooking up, I guess I’ve been able to explore different things.” I give him my sauciest smirk. “So thanks for that.”
I expect him to make some crack about all the ways he wants to explore with me, but he surprises me by pulling me even closer, his big hand coming up to press the back of my head into his chest.
“I’m sorry you didn’t have stability when you were a kid,” he says, his chest rumbling under me. His fingers trail over my shoulder, over my tattoo, in a feather light touch. “What you told me about your grandma’s flowers makes a lot more sense now.”