Stay Awhile

by Gia Riley

  My back arches off the bed when his tongue and lips take turns sucking and licking their way up my calf. When he gets so close to the sensitive skin on my inner thigh, my hands dive into his hair. I grip the strands so hard, even tugging a little, that there’s no mistaking how desperate I am for him to keep checking promises off his list.

  “Please, don’t stop,” I beg him.

  “Babe, I’m just getting started.”

  Megan

  WE’RE STILL SO NEW AT this dance, each of his movements are unpredictable, adding to the excitement. I can’t tell what he’s thinking or what part of me he wants to taste next. All I know is, I’m ready. “Whatever you want, Garrett. Take it.”

  I’d give him anything right now. That’s how much I’ve missed what he can do to me—what only he’s capable of accomplishing.

  He raises his head, his eyes scanning my entire body until they settle on my mouth. Instinctively, I lick my lips, and he does the same.

  “Number one,” he says as he pauses to grab his cup on the nightstand.

  He’s going to go through his entire list, number by number. Already, I’m shaking thinking about where he’s headed first, because I remember every word, and my clit is pulsing in anticipation.

  Garrett settles between my legs and presses the ice cube in his mouth against my swollen flesh. My hips buck, but he holds me still with both hands so I can’t get away from him—not that I’d ever want to.

  Little by little, the coldness begins to numb me, but I can still feel the ice cube melting on my pelvis, along with every little flick of Garrett’s tongue. The contrast between hot and cold keeps me right on the edge.

  Over and over, he rubs and sucks, a little harder each time, until the ice is completely gone. It’s the most intimate encounter we’ve ever shared and the most erotic of sensations I’ve ever experienced.

  It’s so perfect I’m torn. I’m torn because I’m closer to coming, but already I miss the warmth of his mouth as he licks the last droplet of water and pulls away.

  When he reaches for the cup a second time, I prop myself up on my elbows. “Garrett, I don’t know if I can do that again.”

  “Shhh,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”

  He uses his fingers this time, reaching inside the plastic cup and pulling out two pieces of ice. He holds one in each hand, and my abs contract from the sting as they start to drip onto my stomach. “What are you going to do with those?”

  He smirks and straddles my hips. “This.”

  Placing the tip of the first cube against my nipple, he barely touches me, using just enough pressure that I can’t be still. The other side of my body is a mirror image, and I can’t decide where I want to look, so I don’t. I close my eyes and stop watching entirely, letting my body feel him without my other senses getting in the way.

  He presses a little harder, circling around and around my hardened nipples.

  “I can’t hold you down this time, Megan, so stay still.”

  “Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll try.”

  “Good girl.”

  This part wasn’t on his list and not having a clue where he’s headed next is both terrifying and exhilarating.

  The gentle swirls of the ice become more aggressive, and while he was barely touching me with it before, he’s now palming the entire cubes against my breasts with enough pressure the cold slices through my skin like a sharp knife.

  This is Garrett doing what he loves to do—mixing a little pain with the pleasure. It’s something I’m already getting used to—something I’m starting to crave.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks.

  “It burns it’s so cold, especially when you press hard.”

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “No, it’s not hurting me, it feels good yet it doesn’t. It just feels different.”

  His breath tickles my skin just before his tongue licks the droplets that are slowly spilling over my chest and running down my stomach. “Are you ready for something else?”

  “Number two?” I whisper.

  “You want more of the list?”

  Letting go of the headboard, I run my fingers up and down his shaft. My palm cups the head of his dick and he groans from the slight pressure against the tip. “I’m ready, Garrett. I want the whole list.”

  “I’ll give it to you, but if you keep doing that with your hand, we’re skipping right to number four.”

  Despite his warning, I can’t stop touching him. I want him to feel as good as I do.

  Slowly, his hands curl into tight fists as he grinds his hips back and forth, still straddling me, but relinquishing the control. There’s no power struggle—we’re just two people craving one another without a script.

  When he opens his eyes again, my time is up. There’s no time to react because in one swift movement, my hands are pinned above my head. He circles my clit one time before thrusting inside of me, making me gasp from the unexpected pressure and burn. My back absorbs his strength and his body presses me farther into the mattress.

  Mistaking my pleasure for pain, he slows down and gives me a second to adjust to him. “I’m sorry, Are you okay?” he asks as his chest heaves.

  “I’m fine. Don’t stop,” I tell him as I lift my hips to restart our rhythm, hoping he’ll follow my lead.

  He doesn’t though. Instead, he glances at my wrists and releases me, bringing them to his chest and massaging the slightly reddened skin. “I hurt you.”

  I pull my hands out of his and prop myself up on my elbows, needing him to hear me. “I don’t want you to stop, Garrett.” He stares and tries to pull out of me, but I grab his shoulders, keeping him where he’s at.

  “I got carried away.”

  I rest my hand against his cheek and run my thumb back and forth over his stubble. “Don’t be sorry. If you want it rough, give it to me rough. You don’t have to be careful with me.”

  He shakes his head, doubting himself. “I don’t know if I can be that person with you, Megan. My instinct is to protect you—not hurt you.”

  I call Bullshit.

  “That’s not what your body said a minute ago. The journal had a man dominating a woman—showing her what her body did to him, and how her words made him lose what little control he was holding onto. I want him. I want that.”

  With a hand on either side of my head, he finally stops denying himself, and says, “You’re right. My heart wants to protect you, but my body wants to explore the fuck out of you.”

  “Do it. Be Christopher fuckin’ Columbus.”

  Laughing, he sinks his teeth into my nipple, and I’m pretty sure I have him right where I want him.

  It’s confirmed when he flips me onto my stomach and pulls me by the hips until my cheek is pressed against the mattress and my ass is in the air. It’s just the right angle to take my breath away.

  Clutching the pillow, I bite the cotton when his fingers rub my clit so hard, I almost wish the ice was still numbing it. Now that the coldness is gone, it’s even more sensitive than when he started.

  But I keep my mouth closed because I just told him I want it hard. And that I don’t want him to ask me if I’m okay. I don’t want him to think about how I’m feeling or if he’s going too fast or too hard. I just want him to fuck me with everything he has.

  When I glance over my shoulder, he looks me right in the eye and spanks me so hard, there’s definitely an imprint of his hand on my skin.

  He massages the sting away with his hand, and just as it fades, he does it again, repeating the same pattern.

  I reach between my legs, desperate to dull the ache with my fingers, and he lets me at first, groaning as he watches me touch myself. “Fuck, Megan. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

  “I’m so close, Garrett. Please, don’t stop.”

  All the air leaves my lungs when he pushes my hand away and pinches my clit, pulling just enough that I collapse on top of the sheets. I need this sweet torture to end—but I don’t want it to be
over.

  I’m hovering in this euphoria, and while I have all of him, I’m still missing something. Whatever that something may be, I’m about to beg for it—that’s how desperate I am.

  But Garrett isn’t about to let me get away from him—not until he’s ready.

  “Stay with me, baby,” he tells me as he raises my hips in the air again.

  “I’m here,” I barely whisper just as he hooks his thumb in my ass, tugs on my clit, and sinks his teeth into my shoulder. It’s the perfect combination that leaves me so full, I scream his name and claw at the sheets.

  This is more.

  This is us.

  This is everything.

  Megan

  “WHAT TIME IS IT?” I groan as I roll onto my back. My eyes couldn’t have been closed for more than an hour or two, but I love that Garrett already wants more.

  “You taste like sugar,” he whispers. “And these tits. Jesus.”

  My nipples are still so sensitive from the biting and the pinching, so when Garrett flicks them, I curl up into a little ball.

  “Did you just call me sugar tits?”

  He chuckles as he chases my face into the mattress to find my lips. “No, I didn’t think you were into pet names, but this body, Megan.” He pushes the sheet down until my back is exposed and my butt is barely covered. Licking the little indentation at the base of my spine, he says, “I can’t get enough of you.”

  “I still feel you between my legs,” I tell him as I roll over onto my back, this time covering my chest with my hands so he’s not tempted to mess with my nipples again.

  His hooded eyes don’t like it, and he pushes both of my hands out of the way. Kissing a trail from my neck all the way to my navel, I want him to go lower, especially now that I know what I’m missing when he’s not there.

  I’m disappointed when he suddenly stops teasing me. “What’s wrong?”

  “If I had more time, I’d start over, making sure you felt me for a week.”

  “You have to leave?”

  He nods. “I don’t want to, babe, but I have surgery this morning.”

  “You called me, babe.” Maybe I was never big on pet names, mostly because of the way Connor used them when he was trying to get something out of me, but there’s just something about the way ‘babe’ rolls off Garrett’s tongue. The thought of hearing it again gives me butterflies.

  I feel him smile against my lips, and in between kisses, he says, “Did I?”

  “You did. And I think I actually liked it.” But even though the butterflies are still going wild in my stomach, I feel bad. “Why did you let me keep you up all night when you have to fix someone this early?”

  “Shhh,” he says as he presses his finger to my lips. “Last night happened how it was supposed to. And we slept a little bit, so I’ll survive.”

  “We barely slept, Garrett.”

  “It’s not a big deal, I promise. Some nights I don’t get to sleep at all.”

  He hasn’t had any of those nights since I’ve been living with him, and I’m glad. I wouldn’t be as comfortable staying in this big house all alone. Some nights, the aging walls and floors creak and groan until morning—and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to sleep through it.

  But while I’m still getting used to the house, I love the sense of security Garrett gives me. Even when we’re not in the same bed, just knowing he’s down the hall is all the comfort I need to close my eyes.

  When we are together, his strong back and broad shoulders are my favorite thing to hold onto. And this morning, I’m not ready to let him go. So, with my arms still wrapped around his neck, I pull down until he willingly lies on top of me. Every muscle in my body screams, and I’m sore in places I forgot I even had.

  The cologne on his neck smells like a cold glass of orange juice in the middle of the woods, but the rest of his skin smells like vanilla cupcakes. “You used my body wash again, didn’t you?” I question.

  “I like smelling like dessert,” he says as he buries his face in my hair.

  “Look at me, Garrett.”

  Slowly, he raises his head. One look into his comforting eyes and I can tell he’s not telling me the truth. “What’s the real reason?”

  “It smells good, but having a piece of you with me all day is nice, too.”

  When it comes to Garrett, I’ve never seen this much insecurity looking back at me before. He’s always so confident and determined, especially last night, but this is the first time his vulnerability has shown through the cracks. I guess I almost forgot Laney’s superhero is actually human.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Shrugging his shoulders, I can tell he’d rather not get into it right now, but I need to know where his head’s at. Finally, he says, “I’m fine,” giving me absolutely nothing to work with.

  “You’re full of shit. Spit it out, Dr. Kristoff.”

  He rolls his eyes when I don’t call him Garrett. I know how much he hates it because it makes us seem like strangers.

  “I guess I was afraid you’d go back to your room tonight, and it’d go back to the way it was before you came to me.”

  “After the night we shared, you think I won’t want you?”

  “What we have is amazing, Megan, but just because I wrote something that made you hot and you came to cash in, that doesn’t mean you owe me every night.”

  “I thought we agreed last night wasn’t about the sex?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. Megs, last night was perfect. You’re perfect.”

  Something tells me perfect isn’t good enough. “Garrett, last night you asked me a question. I thought you believed me when I said I was ready—that I was the one who changed.”

  “I did. I still do, but you’ve been hurt and let down. I don’t want you to be afraid of me because you think we’re too good to be true.”

  My eyes start to water because he’s given me everything I need, and I could never be afraid of him.

  Every morning when I wake up, I have no idea what’s going to happen. My days are as unpredictable as ever, but there’s always one constant—Garrett.

  No matter which way the dice roll or the cards fall, he’s always going to be in the equation. That much I’m sure of. But I need him to believe it, too.

  I need him to be confident in me. Only I have no idea how to do that besides holding him tighter than I ever have before, praying he can feel how much I care about him—and that I’m right where I should be.

  “I hate that I have to leave,” he whispers.

  “Just two more minutes, then I’ll let go.”

  “I don’t want you to ever let go, Megan. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

  I start to say the three little words that terrify me the most, and I realize he’s right. I am scared. They’re not the kind of words you can ever take back, and as positive as I am about Garrett, giving that little sentence away again, isn’t easy. It’s not Garrett’s fault though. It’s Connor’s. And it’s not fair.

  Like Garrett can sense I have more to say, but can’t, he gives me one last kiss on my forehead, while I taste the little dimple by the side of his mouth—the one I like to lick and feel against the tip of my tongue.

  “I’ll miss you,” I whisper. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Despite not saying the words he deserves to hear, he still manages to smile. “I’ll miss you, too, Megs. First chance I get, I’ll call you.”

  “Okay. I’ll probably be laying right here. I’m still so sleepy.”

  “Sleep, sweet girl.” My eyes close with little fight and even though I can tell Garrett’s staring at me, I don’t mind. When his eyes are on me, I feel safe and cherished.

  But that feeling doesn’t last long, because as soon as my safety net walks out the door, my mind drifts to Connor. Garrett probably wouldn’t have left me if he knew Connor was due in court today for his first hearing.

  That’s exactly why I didn’t tell him. When Garrett’s at work, the o
nly thing he needs to be worried about is his patient.

  My problems are mine, and I have Vanessa to help me through them. She’s been keeping her eye on Connor’s legal team, making sure they play by the rules.

  She wants justice for Laney as much as she wants it for me. And God help Connor once it’s her turn to take a crack at him. My sister is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, but inside that courtroom, she’s a viper dressed in heels and a skirt.

  Connor’s never going to see her coming.

  At some point I must have drifted off because when I open my eyes again, my cell’s ringing. I hesitate to answer, wondering if I’m still dreaming, because the ringtone is a familiar one—one I wasn’t sure I’d hear anytime soon.

  Considering Connor was due in court today, I assume the worst—he got away with it all.

  My hands shake and on the count of three, I answer with a simple, “Hello?”

  “Megan?” His voice is dull and weak—not at all like I was expecting.

  “I’m here,” I tell him. When he doesn’t respond, I sit up a little straighter. “Connor? Are you there?”

  He’s breathing harder when he says, “I need you to come to the house. Bring Laney.”

  Glancing at the clock, it’s almost nine in the morning. Laney and I are both still in bed and Connor should be at the hearing by now. “Don’t you have court today?”

  He laughs, but it’s hollow. “Vanessa keeping tabs on me again?”

  “Connor, she’s my sister. She’s going to tell me what’s happening with your case.”

  “I hate that she thinks she can take my family away, lock me up, and then celebrate with her fat paycheck.” His slurring gives away he’s been drinking. If he shows up in court drunk, he won’t have a chance in hell of getting a lighter sentence.

  Pulling the sheet up to my chin, like he can somehow tell I’m still naked, I almost feel sorry for the situation he’s in—almost. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me a little.” I’m human enough to still care about what happens to him—even if I shouldn’t.