Chapter Twelve
Kayla had never seduced a man before. Of course, this wasn’t exactly seduction. Liam was already seduced. He wanted to have sex with her. He was quite ready to have sex with her. This was about her taking charge.
She had definitely never, ever done that before. She had always let the guy lead, and there was something nice about that, but she wasn’t looking for nice here. She was looking for important and meaningful. She felt both of those things because not only was she doing something she’d never done, but she was giving him something he’d never had.
She rubbed her palms over the hard plane of his chest. He was so broad. Muscle and hair and just so very . . . manly, she supposed. Which seemed like a silly descriptor, but she’d never met someone who had that sort of virility. She didn’t know anyone who fixed things and made things, who seemed to take care without steamrolling over everything.
She’d never known anyone like him. So she kissed him and touched him. She reveled in the slow, soft way he touched her back as if giving her the thing she wanted. The power. The control. He was touching her only in the ways she touched him. Giving her the space to lead.
She arched against him, rubbing what she could against the hard long length of him. He was so very big. He would fill her completely.
Maybe she was setting herself up for disappointment, but she had a feeling that finding her orgasm wouldn’t be the struggle it usually was. Usually it was a lot of trying to figure out how to contort herself without having to tell the guy he wasn’t quite hitting the right spot.
But Liam . . . He seemed to be able to look at people and understand them. She was probably putting too much faith in that, but with the promise of sex, it was hard to care. It was hard to worry.
They would work together to get them both to that final part, of that she was sure.
Slowly she drew her mouth from his, looking up at him and studying the hard lines of his face. He looked so very serious and yet there was something sort of... lighter about him. Sometimes he had the world-weary heaviness about all the things he took care of, but he’d dropped that somewhere along the line tonight.
It was almost as if she had caused that in him. Maybe he liked her that much, and her presence was something like meaningful. Not a pretty decoration, not someone to manipulate. Just someone he enjoyed being with.
She took his hand in hers, determined to make this . . . special. It was probably schoolgirl foolishness that she wanted her first actual sex time with Liam to be special—something she could remember and cherish, but that’s exactly what she wanted from this. From him.
But if she thought too much about that, tried too hard for that, it would lead to another hundred thoughts that were probably too serious for where they were right now. So she pushed them away and led Liam out of the kitchen, into the hall, and to his bedroom.
She didn’t know why leading him gave her such a thrill. Obviously he was letting her do it and yet she didn’t think he would let just anyone lead him.
Inside his bedroom, they stood facing each other. Him in only his low-slung jeans, and her in only her skinny jeans and bra.
She studied him and then his unmade bed. She felt giddy and nervous and one million other things at once, but mostly she knew that even if she said something silly or stupid, Liam would never make her feel those things. It was that which gave her the courage to be brave.
“Take off your pants and lay down.”
His mouth quirked into a little bit of a smile, but he undid the button of his jeans, and then the zipper. He took the condom out of his pocket and tossed it onto the corner of the bed, then pushed his pants off his narrow hips and onto the ground. He aimed that lazy half-smile at her as he slid onto the bed, sprawling out on his back and crossing his arms behind his head.
He made quite the picture, all defined muscle at rest, impressive bulge under the boxers he wore.
She undid the clasp of her bra and let it fall to the ground. She didn’t miss the way his mouth firmed and his eyes zeroed in on her naked breasts. She tried to memorize the way he breathed deeply and clearly appreciated the look of her as much as she appreciated the look of him.
Heart pounding, a steady thrum of need working through her body, she shimmied out of her own pants and stepped out of them so they lay on the floor next to his.
Willing herself to continue to be brave, she crawled up on the bed and over Liam. The soft slide of her legs against the coarse hair on his. She kept her hands on the smooth cotton of his sheets even as she let her gaze take in every last inch of him. Honed muscle and dark hair. The dips and curves of a man whose body was a tool he used at work.
Eventually her gaze traveled to his face. He still had that firm, jaw-tightened expressed about him, as though he had to fight that hard to hold himself back. Kayla couldn’t say she minded if he did. His eyes were that glittering blue that should remind her of icy winter skies, but instead reminded her of the inside of a flame. His dark beard and hair such a sharp contrast to the color of his skin.
He didn’t move underneath her, just looked right back at her. The only hint he felt anything was the tenseness of his jaw and the slightly heavy breathing.
The only place they touched was their legs, hers straddling his. Still, he didn’t move to touch her, to bring her closer, and the moment stretched quiet and heavy, and somehow the pulsing need inside of her thudded harder, coiled tighter.
Was he wondering where she would touch him first? Anticipating it as much as she was? Their bodies coming together, fully, wholly. The thought ricocheted through her, hot and potent, so she lowered her body on top of his, stretching over him, every part of her touching him, except where they both still had on their underwear. His skin was surprisingly smooth in places, though rough against her chest and stomach where a smattering of hair rubbed against her.
She pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, reveling in the feel of the hard outline of him through the thin cotton they both wore. Thick and ready. She wanted to tease him, maybe even torture him with that slight separation between them, but resting the already slick folds of herself against his cock was torture to her as well. She didn’t want fabric barriers. She wanted him inside. Thrusting and hard and unrelenting.
She wanted so much more than a few gentle teasing touches. She wanted to be consumed by this strong, tough man.
And shouldn’t she have what she wanted? What did special matter if it wasn’t what she actually wanted? What did it matter what she was supposed to like or want when it came to sex? It was just the two of them. This would always just be for the two of them, and it didn’t matter what was good or right or bad or wrong. It was only what she and he wanted.
She tugged the waistband of his boxers down and sighed at the gorgeous sight of aroused male. She slid her entire body down him as she pulled the boxers off his legs. She let her nipples brush against his thighs and her fingertips slide against his calves. She tossed the boxers away and then wriggled out of her own panties.
She grabbed the condom he’d placed at the corner of the bed. She didn’t look at his face, afraid she’d lose her leading nerve. Instead, she focused on climbing back over him and slowly rolling the condom onto his erection.
She positioned herself over him, Liam still laying sprawled out with his hands behind his head. When she finally got the nerve to look at his face, he had such a smug expression she couldn’t help but grin at him.
She held his gaze and that grin as she lowered herself onto him. Slowly, agonizingly having to let herself get used to the thick invasion. His grin died, turning into something harsher. She reveled in that look, the hot push of his cock, this slow, satisfying joining. His hands clamped on her hips and it sent another thrill through her. He’d lost the tacit agreement not to touch first, and she was more than excited that she’d moved him beyond that point.
Still, he didn’t guide or stop her with his heavy grip. He merely put his hands there. Hard and big and rough. She found herself completely seated on him, her body desperate for more, and her brain function basically nonexistent. Heart hammering in her chest, she swiveled her hips slightly. When Liam groaned as though she’d caused him physical pain, she could only laugh.
Because no matter what happened here, she wasn’t fully in charge. She had some power, and so did he. It was a partnership, an equal meeting.
She slowly moved, drawing him out and then deep again. She set a slow, steady pace, finding the exact angle she needed to hit that bright center of pleasure. She drew her fingers over his chest, and one of his hands slid from her hip, up her waist, and over to her breast. He teased rough fingertips over her nipples until she was panting at the electric bolts that went through her every time. As though every touch of her nipples was connected to that place where they met. Every brush of his fingertips across her skin bringing her closer to the orgasm she usually had to fight so hard for.
Liam was proving to be everything she’d wanted and hoped. Capable and sensitive, and maybe just wonderful. He never tried to rush her or slow her down. He simply touched her. Featherlight brushes, the ragged exhale of his breath at her shoulder.
And then it was more insistent, drawing her taut nipples between two fingers, a little bit of pressure. It was bigger and better and yet, no matter how close she felt, no matter how much she moved against him, it seemed as though her orgasm was just out of reach.
In the past, she would’ve given up. Faked it or just accepted that it wasn’t going to happen this time. But this was Liam, and there was something more to this. An intimacy she’d never had, and she wasn’t quite sure how it had come about, only that it was here. So she damn well wanted to orgasm around him.
Which meant she had to speak, and ask, and try to demand something better. She was in charge after all. In control. He’d given her that, and she was giving him that, too. Which meant she had to be brave enough to hold it with both hands and actually do it.
“Talk,” she ordered a little roughly.
If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. In fact, some of the tenseness seemed to leave his face, and his hands went from the glorious fondling of her breasts back down to her hips. That branding, clamping grip that made her catch her breath.
“You like fucking yourself on my cock, Kayla?”
And it was like lightning—heat and fire. Those dirty words, the rough way he said them, that deliciously mischievous look in his eye.
“More,” she panted.
“You like me so deep inside you.” He made a sound in the back of his throat, thrusting up to meet her and she groaned. “Yeah, you do. Lean forward.”
She almost pointed out she was supposed to be in charge, but this was too amazing to argue with. She gave into it. She leaned forward.
“I want your sweet tits in my mouth.” And with no exertion at all he reached up, all muscle and strength, and traced his tongue across her nipple.
She squeaked and jerked a little bit and somehow that was lightning too. Hitting a new spot inside of her. Liam held her still then, and pushed into her.
“You need it hard, baby. My cock pounding into you. Come on, baby, come. Come all over my cock, Kayla. So I can feel it.”
God. God. She moved frantically against him as he pounded into her. He said her name like a prayer, begging her to come all over him. She supposed it was her name or that please that unwound all of the tightness inside of her.
One last hard thrust and that heartbeat of need pulsed through her. A sharp wave of pleasure and delight. Light and ecstasy even as he swore sharply and pushed deeper inside of her, making it all burst that much brighter. She collapsed against him, breathing heavily, her heart pounding and everything in her body a wonderful, pulsing electricity.
He kissed her temple, brushing the hair off of her face. His arms moved around her, holding her against him as though her weight was nothing. Still inside of her.
She sighed dazedly, contentedly burrowing into him. He brushed his fingers down her spine, a lazy, comforting gesture.
She wasn’t sure how long they laid there before he finally suggested they go eat the pizza, but she would’ve been content to stay forever. That was certainly something she’d never, ever felt with a guy after sex—even good sex.
Kayla was beginning to realize that this whole “feeling new and different things with Liam” wasn’t just her new leaf. It was him. It was them together. It was something big and special.
Which was terrifying, actually, and yet Kayla didn’t want to be the girl who ran away from terrifying anymore. Which meant she had to hold on to it.
* * *
Liam woke up the next morning to the smell of something pretty. Flowery or citrusy or something. Whatever it was, it was definitely not a scent he was used to having in his house.
Even before he could convince himself to open his eyes, he could imagine bright red hair across his pillowcase. His mouth curved.
He opened his eyes, wanting to see it for himself. Wanting to stamp it into his memory, and he wasn’t disappointed. Kayla’s red hair was waving around not just her pillowcase, but his. A tangle of a crown of something very close to sunlight.
That chest-tightening thing that seemed to happen so often with her tried to steal his breath, but he inhaled and exhaled through it. Because she was here, and she liked him. They worked well together. So whatever was freaking him out a little bit, well, it was worth it, he supposed. She was something worth moving toward and fighting for.
He tried not to shift so she wouldn’t wake up, but he rubbed his jaw against one of the strands of hair close to him. Yes, this was in fact something special and quite intimidating. He wasn’t sure he could remember ever wanting something to work out quite so much. There were a lot of things in his life he’d hoped for, and he’d made them all happen. This wasn’t going to be any different.
He glanced at his clock over her head. He would need to get up soon. He was supposed to meet Dad for coffee before their eight o’clock client.
Kayla shifted her body, rolling to her side so her back was to him, her ass brushing up against his already hardening dick.
He really didn’t have time to give any attention to that. At all. The one time he’d been late to work because of her had to be a one-time-only thing. He couldn’t let it become a habit. He was the responsible one.
She moved again, and this time he realized it was purposeful. She was rubbing her ass against his cock. All those thoughts about being responsible and on time just sort of died.
“Keep rubbing your ass against me like that and you’re going to be very, very sorry.”
Kayla laughed, the sound sleepy and muffled. “I really don’t think sorry is what I’m going to be.”
She rolled toward him, her eyes dark half-opened, her mouth curved and happy. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. There was no way he would survive without taking her right now.
He found her hands under the covers and circled his fingers around her wrists, pulling them up and above her head as he angled himself over her. He used his knees to nudge her legs apart. He looked down at her like the feast she was. “Very, very sorry,” he managed with as much mock seriousness as he could.
She grinned, sassy and hot. She arched up against him, the naked apex of her thighs just barely brushing the hard length of his dick.
He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom from the box there. He tore the package open and pulled out the condom, rolling it on. Without preamble or foreplay, he simply entered her, her wrists still under his hand above her head.
Kayla groaned, opening her legs wide for him. She was wet and ready, perhaps even desperate for him, and it made him a little wild. A lot wild. He thrust once, hard, all the way inside of her.
“Fuck,” she said on a ragged breath. That coarse word from her beautiful mouth was like some kind of starting pistol. He couldn’t hold himself back. He withdrew and thrust. Hard and relentless, adjusting the angle until she gasped in pleasure every time he pushed hard into her.
She tugged her hands out of his grasp and grabbed at his hips, her nails sinking into his ass. Begging him, urging him faster.
“Harder,” she breathed, and it was all he could do to keep himself from losing it right there as she begged him for more.
He leaned forward, still thrusting deep, groaning against her as he scraped his teeth across her nipple. She cried out.
“I love the way you look underneath me,” he muttered, not even paying attention to what words were rushing out of his mouth. “My cock in your beautiful pussy. You’re just about to come all over me, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes. I’m so close.”
And so was he. Too close. “Touch yourself.”
Her eyes widened and she looked right at him, a little panicked. She inhaled sharply, and if he’d had any brainpower left he might’ve slowed things down or told her not to worry about it, but instead he just watched her, never stopping his steady pace of sliding his cock deep inside her tight heat, the excruciating withdrawal, only to do it all over again.
She withdrew her hand from where it had clamped on to him. Though there was a slight tremor in her fingers, she bit her lip as she drew a finger over her own nipple. The timid way she touched herself just about killed him, but he gritted his teeth together and forced himself to last.
“That’s not where I meant, Kayla.”
Her cheeks that had already been flushed pink turned a darker shade. On another hitching breath, she lowered her hand down her stomach, pausing only once before she finally placed it against the top of her pussy. He watched her finger as he entered and withdrew from her. Each little brush of her finger was timid at first, but he watched the pleasure streak over her face as she got closer to her clit.
“Beg me,” he ground out through shattering breaths. He wanted to lose himself inside her, let the heat and release wash over him.
“Fuck me, please,” she whispered, still touching herself, her eyes dark and unfocused. “Harder, please. Please.”
Then he was gone as he watched her touch herself, spasming deep inside of her as she sobbed out her own release. His sight went a little dim and his breathing was rough and ragged as the pleasure spiraled through his entire body, bright and intense.
“Well,” he managed, once he caught his breath and collapsed onto his back next to her. “That’s one way to start a morning.”
She laughed, the sound rough and breathless. “I do have a job interview in a few hours. Maybe it’ll be a good luck charm.”
He turned, pulling her next to him as he nuzzled into her neck. “There was nothing not good luck about that.”
“You know, if you have to go fast again so you won’t be late, you can always leave me your key again and come pick it up after work.”
“Are you trying to lure me to your apartment and have your dirty way with me?”
“Oh, yes. One hundred percent.”
He grinned against her neck and tried to come to grips with how happy he felt. When was the last time he’d let himself have that? This deeply. This much just his. He thought it had to have been before Dad’s heart attack, if that.
There were things a guy who was better with words could say to her to show her that, but he didn’t have them. He had only himself, and he could only hope that would be good enough.
“I do actually have to get going. Dad wanted to have coffee before our first call.”
“Go have coffee with your dad. And then I’ll see you tonight?”
He nodded, forcing himself to get out of bed and head for the bathroom. He ran through the shower and got dressed for the day. He was running a little bit late, but hopefully Dad wouldn’t mind if they rescheduled the coffee.
When he got back out of the bathroom, Kayla was still curled up in his bed. She was typing something into her phone. She smiled over at him.
“I was just teasing about me staying here while you go. It’s probably weird having me in your house alone, and—”
He cut her off by placing his mouth on hers and kissing her. When he pulled away, she grinned at him.
He hurried to the kitchen and pulled his house key off his key ring and went back to the bedroom to hand it to her. Still naked in his bed. No, it somehow wasn’t weird at all to leave her here. It was something like perfect.
“Stay. Make yourself at home. Eat my food, drink my coffee. Good luck at your interview. I expect to hear all about it tonight. At your place.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He indulged in one last kiss, groaning as he forced himself to end it and walk out the bedroom. He had work, no matter how much he’d rather play hooky.
And wasn’t that damn weird? No matter whom he’d been seeing or sleeping with, he’d never been all too interested in giving up work for time spent with them.
He drove to his parents’ house, belatedly realizing he’d forgotten breakfast or coffee, so high he’d been on sex and Kayla. He glanced at his clock, wondering if he and Dad would have time to grab something before they went over to fix Mrs. Washington’s unhinged door.
But as he walked into his parents’ house, happy and content, it all disappeared in an instant when he entered the kitchen to find his parents sitting at the kitchen table, hand in hand, looking all too grave.
“What is it?” Liam asked.
Mom had tears in her eyes, but Dad was the one who spoke. “Sit, son. We have to talk.”
Which could not in any way, shape, or form be good.