Chapter Twenty-five
Liz let him in, and he pushed the door closed, leaning on it a moment, eyes closed as she turned back to her living room.
“Glasses are in the top cupboard on the right of the sink if you want some of that now,” she called as she sat down and turned off the TV.
He’d brought the remainder of the wine. He needed a drink, and he needed Liz in his arms so he could let go of the lingering emotion from being in his father’s study.
He looked in Liz’s kitchen for wine glasses, but the only thing he found were mason jars stacked haphazardly on the shelf she said they were on. He poured a measure into two of them and handed her one as he joined her.
“You don’t have wine glasses.”
“Never needed ’em,” she replied, shrugging. “Mason jars are better. If you drop one, it’s twenty-five cents to replace it.”
“Makes sense,” he replied, taking a big gulp of his wine. He expected it to taste different being in a jar, the nose funneling differently in the straight sides. Thankfully, he found no difference, and he drained his glass then set it on the coffee table.
She lived so simply, and he compared it to the list of expensive stemware and dishes he had tucked away in the boxes in the garage. Such a difference in their perceived needs brought him up short, and he sat, thinking about that, staring at the jar.
“You okay? You want to just head back and sleep?” she asked, side-eying him.
“You’re so different from anyone I have ever been with, you know that?” he said impulsively.
She wrinkled her nose, blinking at him.
“Not a bad thing, I just realized that I have glasses that are worth hundreds of dollars apiece, and here you are, happy with twenty-five cent mason jars. Just—”
“I’m pretty simple in my tastes, yeah. Don’t need much to live. My world is pretty small, compared to yours, Jake. I’m sorry if that—” She bristled.
Jake reached out and pulled her hand to him, holding it firmly as she looked back at him suspiciously. Damn it. He didn’t want to step in it now that they had achieved a better communication rhythm.
“No, no. Not what I meant. At all. I just, I think the past couple of weeks have given me some perspective on what is important. It isn’t fancy wine glasses or expensive dishes. Today especially gave me a big jolt of reality.”
“It certainly did, for all of us,” she said and set her own wine down, then folded herself into him.
He let out a breath as they relaxed into one another, and shook off the heavy from this evening.
He’d tell her about Brett’s office later; right now he wanted to forget it all and just drift on the comfort invading his bones.
She played with the collar of his shirt and nestled farther into the crook of his shoulder.
Her soothing warmth felt right, like this, tucked in beside him. Like they were meant to be side by side. He ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it back behind her, and then impulsively kissed her forehead.
“What was that for?” she asked.
He looked down at her, her eyes questioning what was obviously too intimate a gesture for her. He caught the uncertainty.
“Just, this is nice, Liz,” he rumbled. “Comforting.”
“Mm-hm. Comfort. I can think of something comforting as well,” she hummed, deflecting the intimacy, the suggestion in her voice unmistakable.
“You have energy for that?” He quirked an eyebrow at her as she slid over, straddling him on the couch and running her hands through his hair as he leaned back, letting her play.
Her fingers scraping his scalp immediately erased the noise from his mind, replacing it with the need to have her touch him elsewhere; comfort replaced by arousal.
He liked the way her strong hands slid over him, her intention firm in the pressure she used.
He’d always preferred intentional touch to featherlight caresses; it was a massive turn-on.
“You bet,” she replied.
“Tell me what you want, then,” he murmured, hands sliding down her back and coming to rest on her hips. He wanted her to suggest it tonight, to see where she would take them, find out where she was willing to go. Her eyes widened and she took a sharp breath in, very slowly grinding over him.
She leaned over, nose to nose with him, her hair a curtain around them. “I want to f—”
He didn’t let her finish the thought and kissed her, his blood up the moment she had pressed into him, rotating her hips. He kissed her hard to show her he wanted her, too, but let her lead where that kiss went. Which she did, teasing him with her tongue, biting his lower lip with quick, soft nips.
“Here. Now,” she gasped, her shirt flying, leaning back to let him yank his off over his head as well.
The cold air pebbled his skin, and she ran her palms up his chest, over his shoulders, then down his arms, lifting his hands to her breasts, leaving warmth in the wake.
He obliged her by palming her chest, the heat from her through the material of her sports bra more than he could handle.
“Off. I want it off,” he growled, and she carefully unzipped it then tossed it backward.
He looked back into her eyes, his fingers lazily drawing circles around her breasts as a pink flush bloomed across her cheeks.
“You like that?” he asked, and pinched one nipple then the other, the tiny buds stiffening. God, yes, that was perfect.
She nodded, her hands coming to join his, her hips rolling against him as her fingers covered his. As he pinched again, she arched her back, letting out a raspy moan.
He loved how responsive she was to a simple touch. It made it hard to hold back, but he did, enjoying the anticipation sparking up and down his body.
“What next?” he asked, and her hands trailed down his chest, over his stomach, and hooked into his jeans. She was looking down between them, biting her lip.
Well, that was obvious.
She undid the snap, and he lifted his hips as she slid off him, taking his jeans and boxer briefs with her to the floor. She let out a sound of appreciation as his cock immediately hardened in front of her.
That was erotic as fuck. She was kneeling between his legs, eyes traveling up his body. He wanted her mouth around him, the perfection of her tongue sliding up his shaft would make everything better, but he held back. It had to be her idea.
“You look so fucking hot down there on your knees,” he blurted anyway.
She slid her hands over his thighs, and licked her lips with a sensual slowness that made him groan in frustration. She flicked her eyes up to him.
“Do you want me to?” she asked, inferring exactly what he wanted, flicking her glance down, then back to him.
“Whatever you want to do to me, I want it,” he replied.
She gently slid her palm and closed her fingers around him, and his cock twitched at her touch.
“This?” she asked.
“Yes,” he breathed, unable to look away as she leaned forward, feathering a breath over him, eyes swiveling up, meeting his.
Compared to the night before, this Liz was obliterating his ability to think straight as she teased him. She had to know she was driving him wild.
“Say it,” she murmured.
Jake was not one to talk dirty to a woman; he often found it sounded more crass than he intended, and he worried about being disrespectful when he was with someone new, before they were truly comfortable with one another. Ashley hadn’t liked it at all.
But right now, as Liz stroked his cock agonizingly slowly and pressed kisses against his thigh, he couldn’t help himself.
“I want to fuck your mouth,” he gasped, his cheeks flaring with heat as he said it.
She dove in and licked his cock from the base to the tip, then slid her lips over in one quick motion, taking all of him, sucking in to hold him tightly in her mouth.
“Fuck!” he gasped, and bucked up into her, the sensation of her surrounding him like this more than he could have imagined. Her hair tumbled around her, and he gathered it up with one hand, holding it up so he could see her lips as she slid up, then back down, the wet from her mouth coating him.
He bucked up into her again, and she moaned, her tongue pressing against his cock, swirling. He didn’t want to hurt her, but when she didn’t protest, he slowly rocked in and out of her mouth. Each thrust in flared heat through him, the sensation rolling up his back in a wave of pleasure.
“Fuck, yes. Your mouth is so hot, it feels incredible,” he managed, and she increased the pressure, a hand snaking under his balls to hold them.
Hot, wet sucking noises combined with their gasping pants as she lifted and sucked on just the head, then licked it before diving back down.
The sound alone was going to kill him, never mind the heat from her tongue sliding across.
“Touch yourself,” he growled. Her free hand disappeared down, and she moaned, pressing forward into his spread legs. Hot, so fucking hot.
His balls tightened, and he held still, knowing full well the next thrust would have him shooting his load down her throat.
He didn’t want to come yet, because if he did it might knock him senseless, and that would be it for the night.
He wanted to be inside her, to feel her come around him, to hold her in his arms while she screamed his name.
“I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”
She eased off his cock, her hands replacing mouth the moment her lips left him, sliding wetness up and down his length. She looked up at him, a small smile on her face.
“Really? That good, huh?” she said, and he caressed her cheek with his fingers, nodding, gentle pressure on her chin to bring her to him.
“Fuck, yes, that is incredible. Now take your pants off.”
She shimmied out of her jeans the moment she stood. She was naked, standing in front of him, and all he could think about was touching her.