by Maegan Abel
We were starting to fall into a routine. Conner was close to starting school but in the meantime, I was trying to keep him busy, and Lili had started her job at the shop with Tish. He would come by and pick her up on his way in, or I would take her in and drop her off. Either way, she wasn’t anywhere without one of us. And she no longer fought us on that.
In just a few days, she would be leaving for the trial and I hoped the distance from here might help, but I knew better. The fear of Adam would only be replaced by other fears, like her family, the trial, the press, and Hunter. I seethed as I thought about the fact that she would even be in the same room as him. Trash like him deserved to spend their entire lives rotting in a cell, at the very least.
After putting Conner to bed Thursday night, I went to the garage to check on Lili. She had asked me to set up a punching bag for her in the garage and I’d readily complied. A part of me hoped that if she could get rid of some of that tension and focus it, she could start to heal again. As it turned out, it was the one time she was herself again.
I stood in the doorway, leaning my shoulder against the frame as I watched her. Even with the fan I’d put out here, her back and shoulders glistened with sweat. The sounds of her new gloves hitting the nylon of the bag mixed with her huffs and heavy breathing as her arm shot out over and over, striking the same area of the bag. My eyes took in her form, sliding down to watch her hips rotate perfectly with every cross. She was incredible. The lean muscles of her legs flexed with every turn, showing through her tight, black work-out pants.
I realized my mistake too late and stepped back inside, shutting the door quietly behind me as I readjusted myself through my jeans. My dick wasn’t the only part of me that ached when I got this worked up anymore. It had been well over two months now, bordering on three, since I’d gotten laid. Not that I was counting. At least, I was trying not to. But sometimes, the harder you tried to ignore something…
Shaking my head, I decided to try a cold shower, hating that I was once again resorting to that. But I wasn’t about to push Lili into anything she wasn’t ready for. I shut the bathroom door and turned on the shower before pulling my t-shirt over my head. While the ache in my back was still there when I stretched, I could truly tell that my body was finally healing. I kicked off my jeans and boxer briefs, pausing at the sight of my reflection. My face looked pained and I knew why. This was becoming an almost daily routine and stepping under that cold stream of water was not something I ever looked forward to.
I thought back to a few weeks ago when I’d considered that I should’ve taken things into my own hands and gotten it out of the way. I hadn’t felt desperate enough then, but as I looked into my eyes now, I wondered if that might be the answer. I was way too worked up to care about the fact that I hadn’t had to handle myself since I was a teenager.
Not bothering to turn the water to cold, I stepped into the shower and shut the door behind me. The steam quickly started to build as the hot water pounded against my skin, relaxing the tense muscles of my back and shoulders. I stood under the water for several minutes. Part of me hoped my body would calm, while the other part was actually excited for the release I knew would finally come if it didn’t. I tilted my head back, letting the water completely soak my hair and run down the front of my body. Without any final thought, my left hand wrapped tightly around my length.
I groaned as I began to stroke myself, setting a pace I knew would be impossible to keep up for long, but with the way I felt right now, it wouldn’t take long regardless. My head fell back against the tiles as the water continued to run down my body, heating me from the outside as the feeling of finally getting some relief warmed me from the inside. My eyes drifted closed and behind my lids, I saw Lili’s body. At first, it was just in flashes: the look in her eyes when I slammed her against my bedroom door, the way she flips her hair when she’s brushing it, the sway of her hips as she danced and pressed her ass into me at the club... the swell of her breasts. But as I got closer, the visuals became more intense. I turned then, leaning my forehead on my arm against the tile to feel the hot water on my back. It trailed down my neck, shoulders, and the muscles of my chest. I could see her covered in sweat — the way she was in the garage — as she rode my cock, flipping her hair as she arched her back. I was so close.
I heard her gasp and the visual that went along with it in my mind was perfection. Her back arched as the dam broke and her face was the picture of bliss. I was groaning through my own release when the sound of the door shutting brought me back to my senses. My head turned and I saw her through the haze of steam on the glass shower wall. I knew she’d seen me. Maybe I should’ve been embarrassed or ashamed, but all I felt was relief. Well, relief and a tiny sliver of fear that she would take this the wrong way. This was me trying to not push her. I hoped she understood that.
A series of comments ran through my mind when her eyes locked with mine. Like what you see? Care to join me? I could use an extra set of hands. I dismissed each of them quickly. They all sounded too much like the Zane that I left behind when I realized what this girl meant to me. I was treading into unfamiliar territory.
Her hand dropped from where it covered her mouth and I looked away, reaching to turn off the water.
“Don’t bother. I need to shower,” she said and I turned, watching her as she stripped off her black sports bra and shimmied the tight pants down her legs. The part of me I thought would be satiated by my little endeavor twitched and I knew he wasn’t truly satisfied. He probably never would be when it came to her.
Once she tossed her clothes into the pile with mine, she stepped into the glass enclosure with me. I froze, not sure what I should do, though I knew what I wanted to do. I tried to keep my eyes on her face but I failed miserably as she stepped directly under the stream of water. I followed the trail it made over her already damp skin, watching as it slipped over the swell of her breast and dripped off the now taut tip. I swallowed back a groan as my attention focused on the stream that ran down the valley between her breasts. I knew Lili took care of herself and I’d seen her without a shirt before — quite a few times, actually — but completely exposed this way, I could take in the faint definition of the muscles in her stomach. The movement of the water over each ripple was possibly the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
When my eyes drifted lower, her shyness seemed to return. She slid her hands over her stomach to cover her lower body but my eyes had already seen what she was hiding. I stepped forward and she matched the movement, keeping the distance between us as she stepped away. I lifted my eyes to hers, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, but she only seemed somewhat unsure.
I stepped forward again, her eyes on mine, only this time, she held her ground, letting me know she was okay. I started with my hands on her shoulders and slowly trailed my right hand down her left arm to where her palm covered her skin. I kept my hand over hers.
“When did you get that?” I asked, confused. She pursed her lips but didn’t answer. I kissed her cheek before lowering myself, keeping my eyes on her face as I knelt in front of her. I tugged gently at her hand and she relented, looking away. I couldn’t tell if the pink in her cheeks was from the heat of the shower or from the embarrassment, but I quickly focused on the spot that had caught my attention.
The black ink was smooth, completely healed, and the tattoo looked as if it had been there for a while. This wasn’t a new addition. I carefully traced my fingertips over the swirls inside the wings of the pixie I recognized immediately. I had sketched this, quickly and jokingly, on the outside of the envelope I’d given her when I’d taken her to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream, back when we first met and barely knew each other. The tattoo was so low on her stomach, hidden below her panty-line, nestled perfectly into the little indention of her hipbone as it if were drawn there intentionally.
“When, Pix?” I asked, still in awe of the fact that she’d had it permanently placed on her body. When she still didn’t speak, I raised my e
yes, looking up to find her watching me intently.
She swallowed and licked her lips. “The same day I got the quote.”
Her words were a simultaneous rush to my heart and a blow to my stomach. This girl, who had been right in front of me, who had watched me with a different woman almost every night for more than two years, who had never once seriously complained about my lifestyle, had branded herself with my artwork. I was never one for drawing and, in all honesty, there was little detail to the pixie, but the stature, with her arms crossed, was my depiction of Lili. My first thought was to ask her why she’d gotten it, but I knew the answer.
She loved me more than I deserved. And she always had.
I leaned in, unable to help myself as I pressed my lips against her skin. I wanted to thank her for this. Thank her for showing me what it meant to be so deeply cared for and loved, even at my worst. I slid my lips lower, not removing them from her skin and she stiffened. I looked up her body again, seeing her wide eyes trained on my face. Her look was torn, want and need battling with fear and uncertainty.
“It doesn’t have to go any further than this. It won’t. Not tonight. But I would love the chance to thank you for what this means,” I said, running my nose back up to the tattoo and nipping her skin with my teeth. She let out a heavy breath and bit her lip, but didn’t object.
Carefully guiding her the last few steps backward, I let her lean against the tiles as I slowly moved my attention lower on her body. I ran my nose over the smooth skin just above where I wanted to be, glancing up to give her another chance to change her mind while silently begging her not to. When she didn’t object, I raised a hand, sliding my fingers to the spot I’d longed to touch. As I grazed her clit with just the tips of my two fingers, her back arched, as if I’d shocked her. The sound of her gasp — the same sound I’d heard when she’d caught me — was followed by a long moan as I softly worked my fingers over her.
I waited for a sign from her body, something to tell me when to move forward, as I slowly working her up and added more pressure. When her hips started rolling toward my touch, I slid my hand further, pressing the same two fingers against her opening. She gasped again and this time, I felt it like the sound was a direct link to my cock. It twitched almost painfully, but I ignored it as I eased my fingers inside her body, one at a time. I pressed the heel of my palm against her and she rolled her hips, riding my hand. I risked a glance up at her. Her eyes were closed, her head against the tile with her mouth open slightly as she worked herself on me. In that moment, I realized I was wrong before about the water on her body being the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
I let her continue to set her own pace but I could see that she was getting close and I wasn’t ready to let this end. I lowered my palm, leaving my fingers inside her as used my free hand to lift her leg, resting it over my shoulder to give myself better access to where I needed to be. As much as I wanted to stare, memorize this part of her, I knew tonight wasn’t the night for that. I leaned in, letting my tongue replace my palm against her. I was rewarded by a cry that was more erotic than I ever thought possible. Her fingers latched into my wet hair, her nails scratching against my scalp in a way that had me wishing I could use my free hand on myself as I savored the taste of her. But, this was about her. And fuck if she wasn’t the best thing I’d ever tasted.
I slowed my pace as I felt her start tightening around my fingers and she groaned adorably, the thump of her head hitting the tile as she tried to press herself into my mouth made me chuckle and I thoroughly enjoyed working her up this way. When I felt her start to calm, I made my final move. Pressing my tongue hard against her, I moved it quickly back and forth over her clit. She barely had time to react, her grip automatically tightened, pressing my face into her further as I curled my fingers to find the perfect spot that would unravel her completely. I grabbed her hip with my free hand as she tightened quickly around my fingers and the sound of her cries echoed beautifully off the glass of the shower. I worked her down slowly, holding her weight when she no longer could and lowering her carefully to the tile floor. I scooted to the corner, pulling her against me as she gasped in heavy breaths.
This was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. Watching her come completely undone, to the point of collapse, just for me, was something I never could’ve envisioned in any fantasy. I was possibly even harder than I had been when I’d first stepped into the shower.
I held her carefully, making sure she was against my chest without any part of her touching that part of me as I prayed for the strength to keep my promise to her. I should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. When the water started to cool, she stirred in my grip and moved to kneel, reaching to turn it off.
“Don’t. I’ll… uh…” I cleared my throat as she turned to face me. Her, on all fours, with the water pounding against her back as she looked over her shoulder at me almost made me cry. Why in God’s name did she have to be so fucking perfect? “I’m gonna need the water for a minute,” I finished, discreetly covering my throbbing erection. I wasn’t embarrassed at my body’s reaction to her and I certainly had nothing to hide, but I didn’t want her uncomfortable.
She raised an eyebrow and turned back toward me, clearly on a mission. “I’ll be happy to—”
“Don’t,” I cut her off, holding up one hand. Her shocked looked melted into confusion and the rejection quickly followed. “Fuck. That’s not…” I pushed to my knees, moving to meet her in the center of the shower. Her hand shot out toward me and I quickly captured both of her wrists, holding them between us. I closed my eyes, taking two deep breaths as the internal battle between my brain and dick raged on. I had to do this right. I finally opened my eyes.
“Fuck. I want you so bad right now. If you touch me, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my promise.” She started to speak so I continued quickly. “No. I’m keeping my promise, Pixie. Not tonight. Not like this. Our first time won’t be like this. I won’t let it happen. Please, just give me a second.”
I kept my eyes on hers and watched the rejection melt into understanding. She kissed me softly and turned, reaching for the knob of the shower. To my surprise, she turned it toward the hot rather than the cold. When she glanced back at me, she winked. “Well don’t waste it then. At least enjoy it.” And with that, she stood and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel off the rack before slipping into the bedroom again.
When I finally heard the water shut off, I couldn’t help but smile. I’d been embarrassed when I walked in on Zane but morbidly aroused at the sight of his pleasure. The fact that he was so adamant about how perfect sex needed to be for us was somehow sweeter than I ever could’ve imagined. For two people who spent years treating it like a game, I knew we were putting more weight on it than it needed. But, then again, maybe this is what it deserved. I wouldn’t know.
The light from the bathroom flooded into the room, shining across where I lay on the bed. His eyes met mine for a moment before he flipped it off. I had the sound turned low on the TV and in the flickering light, I watched him moved to the dresser and pull out a pair of underwear. It seemed we were both getting braver. I’d stayed in nothing but a tank top and panties and he crawled in beside me. Unashamed, I rolled into him, curling against him as I usually did and wrapping my bare leg over his. His hand grazed my hip, as he always did in this position. But when his fingers slipped over the bare flesh of my thigh, he groaned.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
I laughed, running my knee up his thigh. “No more than you’re doing to me.”
The playfulness in his eyes made my smile wider. These last few days, the last few weeks, actually, had been so stressful. Before I could think further, he grabbed me, rolling me on top of him and pinning my arms behind my back. I let out a small squeal, laughing as I wiggled free of his grip. Just as I slid to the foot of the bed, crawling onto my stomach, he landed on my back, his weight half-pinning me to the mattress as I laughed. I arched, using my best
weapon at the moment by pressing my barely covered ass against him. He rolled twice, landing on his stomach with his head toward the foot of the bed.
“You win. But only because you cheated,” he chuckled and I could tell by the way he shifted that I’d succeed in working him up again. I did feel a little guilty for that but honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time we’d been this playful.
Scooting closer to him, I trailed my arm over his back. I hated that even in the sporadic brightness from the screen, my eyes immediately found the still nasty scar from the bullet wound. I swallowed, my mood suddenly more somber as I thought about Jordan still being out there. Pulling myself onto Zane’s back, I laid on top of him, covering the wound with my torso as I crossed my arms over his back and rested my chin on my hands. He turned his head to the side, looking over his shoulder at me with an amused smirk and I reached out, covering his face with my hand.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warned through a laugh, waiting until he turned his face back to the front. I traced my hand over the ink on his shoulder, reveling in the ability to touch him openly. I’d always admired his tattoos from a distance. I could remember him getting this piece, several of them actually, but the one across his shoulders had been there when we’d met. I didn’t see him without a shirt a lot but often enough to know what the words said. I ran my fingertips lightly over the quote, drawing each curve of the letter and pretending not to notice the slight tensing in his body. I’d never asked about the quote, it wasn’t my place. Asking questions about someone else gave them opportunity to ask you questions and I didn’t need that before.
“‘It can’t rain all the time’,” I whispered the words and he stopped breathing altogether. It was clear he was uncomfortable and I didn’t want to continue, but my curiosity got the better of me. After all, he’d pressed about my tattoo. “What’s the story?”
