by Aly Martinez
“She was terrible,” he whispered.
“Who?”
“My wife.”
My head snapped back. “Excuse me?”
“Her name was Natasha. She talked all the time and was addicted to shoes. Flint and Quarry hated her, but that was okay because she hated them more. She bit her nails, so it didn’t feel very good when she scratched my head. Her boobs were a decent size, but there wasn’t a single freckle on them.” He sucked in a dramatic breath before playfully choking out, “She didn’t even know how to make those cheesy potatoes. It was torture.” He smiled then grazed his teeth across my neck.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I snapped, not even remotely amused by his little story.
“I spent the last hour envisioning the nightmare I would eventually find myself in if I didn’t get my shit together and actually wake up. It was easily the worst hour of my entire life. It’s just . . . I’ve been trying to keep this overwhelming need to have you separate from our friendship for so long, Eliza. But the lines are all blurred, because our friendship is why I fell for you so hard in the first place. See, I love these.” He brushed the back of his hand over my peaked nipples.
I gasped.
“And this.” He slid his hand down to my ass. “And I especially love this.” He slipped a hand into my pajama pants and lazily glided a finger through my folds.
I sucked in a breath, and he groaned as he dropped his forehead to mine.
“But even if all of that was suddenly gone, I would still be madly in love with you. I wanted to spend forever with you at thirteen. Nothing has or ever will change that. Eliza, I love you. And I am unquestionably serious about spending the rest of my life with you.”
They were really good words.
But Till Page was saying them . . . to me.
They were perfect words.
Till
It was the truth.
All of it.
“I love you too,” she said with tears rolling down her cheeks.
I wanted to wipe them away . . . but . . . my hand was still moving in her pants. It was a serious conundrum.
I pressed a soothing kiss to her mouth and whispered against her lips, “You have to stop crying. I can’t put the moves on you if you’re bawling.”
She laughed, but cried even harder. It was an easy decision at that point.
With two hands, I scooped her off her feet and carried her to the couch. She clung to my neck as I sat down with her on my lap.
“You swear this is real, Till?”
“Well, I’m not exactly an expert on reality.”
She laughed into my neck.
“But, Eliza, it’s absolutely real to me.”
Lifting her head, she stared into my eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” I gently took her mouth in a slow kiss.
Although it started out slow, Eliza took it deeper as she moved to straddle my lap. Then, dropping her hands from the hold on my neck, I lost her mouth as she murmured, “Show me.”
In one fluid movement, she peeled the T-shirt over her head, revealing her lack of a bra, and my cock instantly grew between us. “I could touch you all day long and it wouldn’t even be close to showing you how I feel.”
She sucked my bottom lip into her mouth, releasing it on a sexy sigh. “Well, I think you should try.”
I absolutely agreed with her. She stood from my lap as I dragged her pants down. I wasn’t happy until she was completely naked—just the way I imagined her every night before I fell asleep. But even as she stood in front of me, I couldn’t picture anything except Derrick’s hands on her every curve.
She settled back on my lap, her breasts swaying from the movement.
I dipped a finger between her legs. “Did he touch you here?”
“No.”
“Here?” I glided a hand up to squeeze her breast.
“No.”
I trailed the tip of my finger up to her neck as she tilted her head to the side, her eyes falling shut. “No,” she breathed.
I gently rubbed my thumb over her bottom lip. “Here?”
Her eyes popped open. She didn’t respond, but that was answer enough.
“Never again.” I kissed her. “No one ever touches these again.” I teased my tongue over her bottom lip before sucking it into my mouth. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she agreed, brushing her nose against mine pleading for more—more that I absolutely planned to give her. “Now, let’s see what we can do about that kiss.”
I roughly pushed a hand into the back of her hair, causing her to gasp. Then, while her mouth was still open, I took it in a hard, unapologetic kiss. Our tongues tangled as I used her hair to control the pace. She was hurried, but I was steady. There was no rush in eternity.
“Forever.” I moaned into her mouth while she rocked against my cock, which was unfortunately still tucked away in my jeans. “Say it.” I demanded, lifting my hips to increase the pressure.
“Why aren’t you naked?” she groaned, taking my mouth in another hard kiss, as her hand traveled down to the button on my jeans.
“Because I’m erasing where that asshole touched you. Then we’re spending the rest of the night rewriting it the way it should’ve been. I may’ve been the first, but this time when I make you come I want to know I’ll be the last. Now, fucking tell me it’s forever.”
A slow, sexy smile crossed her lips. “You’ve always been forever for me.”
“No matter how bad I fuck things up, we make this work. Forever.”
Her smile grew. “Stop freaking out and start rewriting.”
“Eliza . . .”
“Till, shut up.” She peppered kisses over my face. “Forever. Forever. Forever. I swear to love you, Till Page. Even if you fuck it up.” She leaned back to catch my eyes. “Better?”
I blew out a relieved breath. “Much. Now, just so you know, I want to be the one to tell Bailey to fuck off.”
“No way! You’ll kill him,” she said so seriously that it made me laugh. “You let me handle, Derrick. He’s coming over tomorrow night. I’ll break it to him kindly then.”
“Fuck no you won’t! He’s not coming over here ever again.”
“Are we really fighting over Derrick Bailey while I’m sitting naked on your lap? This seems like a gross misuse of time.” She reached down and drew her fingernail over my cock. “Let me tell him tomorrow, and then you can say whatever you want next time you see him at the gym.”
I rumbled a groan and pressed my hand between her legs.
“Can we go back to rewriting now?” She circled her hips against my fingers.
“Yeah.” I smiled, then began looking around the room. “Where do you want to start? Couch sex has its merits, but I think I’d like to lay you out on that table.”
Her eyes heated but she released the sweetest giggle when she answered, “Both.”
“Good plan.” Standing up off the couch, I slid her down my body until her feet landed on the ground. I began to push my jeans down my thighs, but paused to pull a long strip of condoms from my back pocket.
“Thank God!” she exclaimed, shoving me down on the couch.
I laughed as I fell, but Eliza made quick work of dragging my jeans off my feet as I tore the shirt over my head. She climbed onto my lap while I rolled the condom on between us, and within seconds, she sank down on my cock.
“Fuck.” I cursed as she began to ride me.
I wanted to kiss her, but I couldn’t drag my eyes from her body. She must have noticed my hungry gaze, because she asked, “You like to watch?” as she slid her hands up over her breasts and into her hair.
“My cock’s inside you, Eliza. I could watch this every fucking day for the rest of my life.”
“Good. Because you might have to.” She quickened her pace.
“That’s not exactly a hardship.” I leaned forward only long enough to drag my tongue over each of her nipples then reclined against the back of the couch.
&
nbsp; Licking my finger, I slid it between us. On every down stroke, I gently tapped her clit, making her go wild on top of me. It was an unbelievably sexy sight.
She reached down and guided my hand to her breast. “No hands. I’m close.”
“Come on, baby. Give it to me. This isn’t the only time I’m making you come tonight.” I stared down as I once again found her clit.
“I mean . . . I don’t think I need your hand,” she panted and my eyes flashed to hers.
“No hands?” I questioned in shock.
She shook her head as she tightly wrapped her arms around my neck and continued to move over me, searching for her release.
No. Fucking. Hands.
I sat up, shifting to the edge of the couch, and began fucking her from the bottom. I could feel her muscles tense around my cock but I couldn’t keep up a pace in that position to make her come.
Jesus, she was so close though. I pushed to my feet with her in my arms.
“Don’t stop,” she cried. “Please.”
“Shhh . . .” I soothed as I leaned her shoulders against the wall. “Hold on, baby.” She clung to me as I drilled inside her. With every thrust her muscles contracted, fueling me forward.
“Harder,” she pleaded. However, if I fucked her much harder, we were going to be rebuilding a wall in her apartment.
I carried her over to the small dining room table before releasing her legs and pulling out.
“What are you doing?” she objected on a whine.
I didn’t say a word as I spun her around in my arms and folded her face down over the table. Poising myself at her entrance, I whispered, “You need deeper. Not harder.” Then I slammed myself to the hilt inside her.
She released a strangled cry, but it quickly transformed into a breathy sigh. “Yes,” she hissed. My hands gripped her hips as I fucked her from behind, each thrust deeper than the last.
It took several strokes for me to perfect a rhythm. Only the sounds of her moans and clenching of her cunt guided me, but I finally figured her out.
“Oh God, Till!”
I bent down and raked my teeth over her shoulder, and it must have changed my angle because one thrust later—without the use of hands—I claimed Eliza Reynold’s final first.
And every. Single. One. Of her lasts.
Chapter Twenty-One
Eliza
“HEY,” I SAID, PULLING THE door open.
“Wow. You look beautiful,” Derrick lied, leaning in to give me a hug.
I looked like hell. My lips were swollen, and there were bags under my eyes from staying up all night with Till. I smiled at the memory.
“Thanks.” I stepped away, allowing him space to come inside.
“You ready to go?”
“Umm . . .” I stalled.
Why the hell was I nervous? I had zero feelings for Derrick, but the butterflies still threatened to overtake me. I was so horrible at confrontation. I would have much rather just avoided Derrick than have this conversation with him, but I sure as hell didn’t want Till to do it.
“Can you give me a second?” I retreated to my bedroom.
I needed a little encouragement of the Till Page variety. I looked up at the ceiling and whispered his name. He didn’t respond, so I walked over to the wall and gently knocked.
“Hey,” I called out, but it wasn’t Till’s attention I gained.
“You okay?” Derrick asked as he rounded the corner to my room.
“Yeah. Sorry. I, um . . .” Again with the stalling.
“What’s going on, Eliza?” He stared at me with genuine concern.
I felt like an ass for making him worry. It wasn’t like I was breaking up with him. We had been on one date—two if the Chinese food from the night before counted. I wasn’t breaking his heart. I was simply informing him that I would no longer like to see him—in any capacity.
“I’m fine. Sorry. I’m just nervous. Look, some things have changed since last night, and I’m not going to be able to go out with you tonight . . . or, well, ever.” I gave him a tense smile and an apologetic shrug.
“Oh,” he said, snapping his head back in surprise. “Can you at least tell me what changed? You seemed pretty excited about going out last night.”
Clearly, I had been on a different date than Derrick had, because excited was not an adjective I would have used to describe how I’d felt.
“Um . . . it’s just . . . Till came over, and we’ve decided to give a real relationship a try.”
I couldn’t be certain that he’d heard anything after I’d said Till’s name. His eyes had immediately grown dark.
“Page?” he growled. “Did you fuck him?”
I was shocked by his transformation, but not enough to keep my mouth shut. “I’m pretty sure that’s none of your damn business.”
“You did.” He nodded then laughed. “He fuck you on that bed?” He reached down and snatched the blanket off as if the sheets would reveal the proof.
I could have dealt with him acting like a dick, but there was something in his tone that prickled the hair on the back of my neck. Everything suddenly felt wrong, and my eyes flashed to the door for an escape.
“You need to leave.”
“So let me get this straight. You’re choosing that broke-ass wannabe over . . . me?” He pointed to his chest as he took a menacing step forward that forced me to back against the wall.
“Um, no. I just don’t think this is going to work out.” I inched toward the door.
“Bullshit!” he shouted, leaning close to my face and placing a hand next to my head against the wall. His proximity was intimidating, but it was the absence of emotion in his eyes that sent the red flags flying.
“Backup,” I said with a shaky voice.
“Yes. Let’s.” He laughed. “Let’s back up to when I asked you out, and maybe this time, you tell me the goddamn truth about your relationship with Till fucking Page.” He bit out his name like it burned on his tongue.
“I didn’t have a relationship with Till when you asked me out. We were just friends.”
“Liar!” he violently roared, spit flying from his mouth.
I glanced up at the ceiling. Yeah, maybe staying in my bedroom was a better course of action. At least Till could hear if things went sour.
“Please leave.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but I failed when a scary smile crept across his face.
He leaned in closer, inhaling deeply as he dragged his nose up my neck. “Where’s your boyfriend now?”
“Upstairs. He’s waiting on me. Let’s not make him come down here.” I played innocent, but Derrick knew that it was a threat. And it absolutely was.
His body tightened, and he immediately stepped away. I released a relieved breath, but it was entirely premature, because not even a second later, his fist landed hard against my face. My head snapped to the side as I fell over and collapsed against my easel before crashing to the floor.
“You think I’m fucking afraid of him?”
I had but one response. “Till!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, banging my hands against the wall. They were stilled as another fist landed against my cheek. My mind lagged as I tried to remain conscious. I needed help, and I knew he was only one paper-thin wall away.
“Till! Help me!” I shouted again, but a boot under my chin silenced any further cries.
Till
“Till! Wake up. Till!”
I felt Quarry shaking my shoulders, but I could barely make out his words. I opened my eyes and saw his mouth moving, but he sounded a million miles away.
“Get up. Something’s wrong with Eliza.” His voice began to drift into clarity.
“What?” I jumped to my feet at the very mention of her name.
“She was screaming for help, so Flint took off and went down there. He told me to wake you up.”
Without another word, I rushed from my room, and just before I hit the front door, I heard a crash in Eliza’s apartment.
“Stay he
re,” I ordered, taking off down the stairs.
When I rounded the corner, I saw Eliza’s door wide open and heard a commotion. At a dead sprint, I rushed inside without a single fear of what I would encounter. She was in there. That alone was enough to force me into the pits of hell.
“You Page boys really are fucking stupid! You think you can take me?” Bailey yelled from on top of Flint’s chest, raining punches over his face.
Flint’s hands were raised defensively, but they did little good.
I dived across the room, catching Derrick off guard and knocking him to the floor. I had been livid when I’d seen him hit Flint, but nothing in my rough life could have prepared me for the way I felt when I lifted my eyes to find Eliza beaten, bloody, and curled into a ball in the corner of the room. Her gaze met mine and the dam broke as tears rushed from her eyes. Her body bucked as a sob tore from her throat. It didn’t take long to piece together the situation in front of me.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, knowing exactly what I needed to hear.
As soon as the words cleared her lips, my mind checked out completely. Murder and rage quickly filled the empty space it had left behind.
Derrick was just rising to his feet when I threw the hardest punch of my life. It was packed with more than simple determination to win a fight. It was packed with raw and visceral fury.
My knuckles cracked as they landed on his face. I also felt his cheekbone shatter under the blow, and it fueled me forward. Not a word was spoken by anyone in the room as my left hook landed hard on his kidney. He doubled over right in time for my uppercut to snap his head back. His legs were at least smart, because they carried him away from me as they fought to stay underneath him.
I charged after him, nowhere near done yet.
“You fucking piece of shit,” I growled, dodging his half-assed attempt at a blow.
“Fuck you. Enjoy my sloppy seconds.” He laughed with false confidence before spitting blood onto the floor.
I cracked my neck. I knew he was lying; he’d never had her. But the poor bastard actually thought he had gotten something from her and, in turn, something from me. He might have briefly touched what was mine, but he’d never had even a tiny morsel of Eliza Reynolds.
