by Laura Ward
I opened the door with our key card and held it open for her. The bellhop had taken our two small bags up for us, and the maid had turned down the bed. At the sight of the fresh white sheets, I wanted to toss her on the mattress and rip that dress off her like she was a birthday gift.
I balled my fists by my side and took even breaths. Slow down, asshole, or it’ll be over before it even starts.
My body ached with the need to touch her. To claim her. To make her all the promises she deserved. I’d imagined this moment so many fucking times over the past few months that it was almost on a constant loop in my brain. As the time got closer to my flight home, all I could think about was when I could finally have Lex again with nothing between us. No countries, no wars, no oceans, and definitely no clothes.
She walked over to me and pressed her palms on the jacket of my dress blues. She stood on tiptoes and kissed me. “Thank you for surprising me.” Before I could respond, she turned her back to me. “Unzip me, please.”
I blew out an unsteady breath before I slowly lowered the zipper. I passed a strapless white lace bra and then continued down, as the tiny white edges of a G-string teased my eyes.
The dress pooled at her feet, and she stepped out, not taking off her strappy gold heels. She turned to face me, and I took an involuntary step back. The sight of her was almost too much. Her breasts looked fuller, her hips curvier, and her stomach tighter. Her legs, accented by those motherfucking heels, looked a mile long.
“Baby, I… God, I want you. I don’t think I can control myself.” My voice was rougher than I’d meant for it to be, but she only grinned.
She stepped over her dress and walked closer to me, unbuttoning my jacket and slipping it off my shoulders.
“You look even bigger, even hotter, than when you left. What do you think that’s doing to my control?” Her smile was sweet, but her tiny fingers were agile as they unbuttoned my shirt. Yes, she was feeling much like I was. Needy. Hungry. Reckless.
She dropped to her knees and moved to my belt buckle, whipping it off before releasing my pants. She pushed me back onto the bed and slipped off my shoes and socks, throwing them over her shoulder and giggling as they hit the wall behind her.
“Lex, slow down, baby. Please. I need a minute.”
“Not this time, Liam.” She stood again and reached behind her, unclasping her bra and freeing her amazing tits. Tits that made a frequent appearance in my fantasies.
“Swear to Christ, I’m drooling, Lex. Like a damn dog.” I felt drunk at the sight of her. Sweet Lex in control was so goddamn hot I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover.
And then she cupped her breasts in her hands, rolling her fingers over the nipples. “You want to taste?”
“Like I want my next fucking breath.”
She grinned and shook her head.
I growled in response.
“I need you to be patient, babe. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” She crooked her finger, and I stood back up, mute and tense as she pushed down my boxer briefs. I stepped out of them and then watched as she shimmied out of her G-string.
“I get to taste first,” she purred.
Holy hell.
Before the words could escape my lips like the prepubescent fucker I felt like, she was on her knees again, grasping me in her hand and kissing the tip of me with her sweet lips.
“No. Lex. I won’t last.” Halfheartedly I begged her again, but her tongue continued to stroke my length, and when she took me into her warm, wet mouth, I gave in with a satisfied groan. My hands were suddenly in her hair, knotting the soft strands in my fists, and my hips were moving before my brain caught up with my body. When one of her hands cupped my balls and she took me deep in her mouth, I lost all control.
“Fuck, yes. I love your mouth, Lex.” Those were the only words I could manage as I pushed through the slick slide of her lips. The rest was a garbled mess of filthy demands.
She continued to stroke me, her mouth and hands forcing my hips to keep up. Her mouth plunged faster, her fingers squeezed tighter, and I forgot why I’d begged her to stop in the first place.
All I knew was that I had to be inside her body. Our first time after so many months apart needed to end with our eyes locked as our bodies moved together.
I pulled her off and up the front of my chest as she sighed and sucked on my neck.
“I wasn’t done,” she complained. “I want more. Everything. All of you.” She was breathless, but her tongue and lips never stopped their torture on my skin as she kissed my chest and shoulders.
My moan was low. “You will, baby. But this time I need you in bed underneath me. Okay?” I held her with one hand under her knees and used my other hand to pull back the covers. I laid her on the sheets and reached for my wallet.
She grabbed my wrist. “Liam, I’m on the pill. I’ve been taking it for six months. Nothing between us, okay? I want to feel you.”
I looked into her eyes and then rested my forehead on hers. “You trust me,” I confirmed. I knew she loved me, but for her to give herself to me in this way proved to me how much faith she had in me. In us. “This is… you are…”
She shook her head. “When we first met, we’d just lost Sam and Declan. The last time you came home, it was after my father’s death. We’ve had loss and sadness, and you’ve taken care of me through it all.” She kissed my lips. “Even when I didn’t know you were.” She smiled. “I promised myself when you came home this time, I’d take care of you.” She pulled my lower lip into her mouth and sucked it. My body jerked in response, my hips pressing down, searching for hers. “I plan on taking care of you over and over… and over again.”
Fuck me.
I kissed her deeply, our tongues and lips and teeth crashing together. When I pulled away, we both dragged in gulps of air. “Are you sure?”
She lifted her hips in response. “I don’t want anything between us ever again.”
I rested on my elbows above her and entered her, watching her face the entire time. She closed her eyes for only a second before opening them, her gaze blazing with heat once I was fully inside.
“Holy shit, baby.” I leaned down to kiss her because I didn’t have words to tell her just how perfect she felt. I’d never had sex without a condom, and being bare with Lex was intense. It was intimate and tender, leaving me feeling exposed. And I loved it. I loved her.
I started to move, and even though I was impatient and my body was begging me to pound into her with months of pent-up desire, I took my time. I eased in and out, loving the way her body squeezed me on the drag out, trying to keep me buried deep. When I pushed back in, it felt like I was claiming her inch by inch, and she moaned in surrender.
Lex matched my slow rhythm, arching her back and rolling her hips, wrapping her legs around me to hold me close. Her hands were on my back, in my hair, stroking my face. She whispered I love yous, and I echoed them right back.
“Liam,” she murmured against my chest.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I want on top,” she begged.
She pushed up on my chest with her hands, and I gripped her waist. I rolled until I was on my back with my angel straddling me.
“I want to be in control. I want to make you crazy for me,” she said, grinning in a way that was sinful.
“Already there.” I held on to her hips and pushed up into her. Then she leaned forward to grip my shoulders and started to ride me.
Her hips sank down on me, pulling me deeper into her as she rubbed and moved against me. With each thrust of my hips upward, our speed increased until our bodies were wild against each other—wet and needy and desperate.
I reached up to run my hands over her perfect tits, and when my thumbs brushed her nipples, she moaned and pushed down on me until there was no space between us. Her fingers gripped my shoulders, and she panted in deep gulps as her eyes caught mine.
I could see the moment that her orgasm rocked through her, and she held my gaze, her body trem
bling as I chased my own release. She didn’t look away when I came, her name a groan between my lips.
We were both panting, gazes locked, feeling raw and completely exposed to one another. It was the perfect combination of fucking and tenderness. It was passion. It was love.
She sighed. “You feel so good inside me.”
I wrapped my hand around the back of her head, pulling her lips to mine for a possessive kiss. “What a naughty thing to say,” I said against her mouth. “What happened to my angel?” I joked.
I could taste her smile as she laughed through another kiss. “You make me feel a little wicked,” she admitted.
I rolled her over so we were lying side by side where I could hold her close and kiss her whenever I wanted. I tucked a piece of tangled hair behind her ear before running my fingers down her jaw, along her neck, over her shoulder, and down her arm. She shivered and cuddled in tight against me, just where I wanted her.
We laid in silence for a few minutes while I thought about the night. “Hey, what did Julie whisper to you earlier before we left? You turned three shades of red.” Why that question came to mind, I had no idea. Sex brain was weird.
She grinned. “First she told me that I deserved every happiness in this world. That she would always be my sister and that she loved me. Then she told me that once we got up here, I needed to start with a blow job. You’d been fighting for our country, and you deserved good head.”
I laughed long and hard at that one.
She slung her arm across my chest and laid her head over my heart. “In my own defense, I had already planned on it. Like I said, I needed a taste.”
I tangled my fingers with hers, keeping her hand close to my heart. “I love you, Lex. You saved me. You’re my home.” She looked up, and I bent to kiss her softly and tenderly. “How did I get so lucky? To be the one who gets to love you?”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t luck. I prefer to call it destiny. I think in the end, we helped each other discover who we deserved to be. Together we fought our way out of the dark and into the light. That’s love.”
“Love,” I repeated. A smile stretched across my face as I brought her hand up to my lips so I could kiss each of her sweet, rainbow-tipped fingers. “That’s the color of us.”
Don’t miss the next story in the College Bound series!
THE RIFF
by
Laura Ward & Christine Manzari
*The following excerpt is subject to change.
Two Years Ago
Sticky. Everything is sticky. The bar top, my lip gloss, even the backs of my thighs which were cemented to the bar stool like it was coated in tar. Maybe if Mom hadn’t insisted on the tiny skirt that barely covered my ass, and it wasn’t hotter than Hades in here, I could—
“Stop fidgeting, Julie,” she hissed. She cast an irritated look my way before lifting her chin, scanning the room, and giving off her best ‘I’m available’ vibe. To be honest, that was really the only look she had unless she was looking my way. The irritated looks were always reserved for me.
“How much longer are we staying?” I reached for the glass in front of me and spun it on the worn wood, watching as the sweet, orange liquor danced around in the glass. The cherries bobbed on the surface, and the ice clinked with the motion. Amaretto Sour. Most kids got Shirley Temples, but my mom made sure I got the real stuff.
Yay me.
I was only eighteen, but Riff Raff was a small bar in a nowhere town and as long as you were able to see over the counter, Chuck, the owner, didn’t care if your ID was legit. Mom had been bringing me here since I was sixteen, and Chuck had been serving me alcohol for almost as long. With the way he sometimes looked at me, I wondered if he expected something in return for that kindness. I’d seen Mom head into the back room with him enough times after her bar tab was delivered to know that he accepted more than just cash and credit cards.
I fought the shiver that ran down my back and lifted the glass to my lips. The drink was cold and sweet, almost like liquid candy.
“We’re celebrating your graduation, baby,” Mom cooed, laying her soft, perfectly manicured hand on my arm. “You’re supposed to be having fun.”
I raised my eyebrow and looked up from my drink to meet her eyes. Rikki Prescott might have trouble showing up to work on time, or dating the same man for longer than two weeks, but I’d never seen her look anything but picture-perfect when she was on the “hunt.” And that’s what we were in the middle of right now. A Man Hunt.
And I was her wing woman. Or something like that.
The way some guys looked at me when they came over to talk to my mom, I felt more like bait. As if they thought I might be bonus material after the main attraction was over.
Ew. Gross. Never.
I wasn’t a prude. My promised land had been conquered before, but never by one of my mother’s cast-offs. I didn’t care how young or good-looking they might be, even I had standards, low as they may be.
“Oh, is that what this is?” I asked, setting the glass down. “My graduation party? Funny, it feels like a regular Friday night to me.”
She turned her body to face me, but her attention was still surveying the room beyond, always on the lookout for a warm body to fill her bed and give her hope for finding ‘The One’ and a better future. “I’d think you’d be a little more grateful for the life skills I’m teaching you.” Her nails tapped the top of the bar, the only sign that she was agitated with me.
“Oh yes,” I continued, “this is exactly the kind of place to learn life lessons.” My response was harsh, which was unusual for me. Most times, I was eager to go along with her—to be seen and wanted—but not tonight. Tonight should have been all about me and celebrating my accomplishment. Graduating and getting accepted to the University of Maryland was no small feat. And yet, here we were. Same place, same game. All I wanted was to break through her glossy exterior and get a reaction from her, to know she saw me as more than just another accessory to make her look good. Sometimes I felt like a living, breathing expensive handbag.
Don’t get me wrong, Mom was beautiful all on her own, she didn’t really need me. But in her opinion, two was always better than one. Although I might not have her DNA or any of her mannerisms, there was no doubt that together we were a force to be reckoned with in Riff Raff. We turned heads. We were perfect. Polished. Uncomplicated. We were a tempting option most men couldn’t resist at least approaching. She quickly learned that when she brought along the pretty daughter, eligible men would swarm like flies on a carcass.
Mom sighed, set her glass down on the bar, and finally looked at me. “Lesson number one...you have to take advantage of your assets in life.” She scanned my bar getup and blinked before returning her eyes to mine. “You’re a beautiful girl, Julie. You know that. If you want the best things in life, you have to use that to your advantage.”
I gave a weak laugh. “I got accepted at College Park, Mom. I don’t have to go slumming in bars, hocking my tits and ass for my future.”
She took in a deep breath and let it out in a huff through her nose as her mouth pressed into a line. Finally, she said, “I hope you’re not depending on a degree to get you what you want, baby. What was your major again?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and managed to say, “Undeclared.”
She gave me an indulgent smile, and I felt every one of my measly eighteen years stacked up in front of her only to see that they fell short of her expectation. “See? You can’t depend on your smarts, baby. We both know that’s not your strength.”
Christ. Were mothers even allowed to say shit like that out loud? “I don’t think—”
“If you’re not careful, you’re going to end up with a worthless degree, a shitload of school debt, and you will have wasted the best years of your beauty getting something that would be worth twice as much if you were a man with the same thing. You’ll work hard, and it will be wasted. Your power lies in this,” she said, gesturing to my face
and body. “Trust me. My advice is to find the perfect man while you’re at your best.” She picked up her drink, touched it to her lips, and spun around in her seat to look away.
I got the message loud and clear. Our conversation was over.
What was worse, I understood her true message. Mom had wasted her best years, too, and all she got out of it was an ex-husband and an adopted daughter she had to raise on her own. I owed her for that at least. Even if her advice wasn’t what I wanted to hear, she’d always been there for me. She’d given me what my biological parents hadn’t wanted to, what my adopted father couldn’t offer, and what she’d struggled to provide for the last eighteen years.
She’d given me a chance. A home. A broken home, but a home all the same.
The least I could do was sit next to her and look pretty for one night. I was good at that.
My hand was shaky as I lifted the glass to my lips and took a sip of my drink. I hated that everything she said was true, that looking pretty was the only thing I was truly good at. The realization of that was like a steel pad rubbing against my heart, leaving behind the pain of my inadequacy. But what could I do about it? It’s not like I was going to instantly become a brainiac just because I wanted to.
It only took two more sips before our collective pretty started to do its work. Two cute guys sauntered up and bought us each another round, even though neither of us had finished our first drink. Mom didn’t seem to mind, and the guys settled in with ease as if they’d already decided who they’d set their sights on. The one talking to me smelled like syrup, Aunt Jemima if I wasn’t mistaken. But the one chatting up my mom had Nickelback lyrics tattooed on his forearm (yeah, he’d already rolled up his sleeve to show her) and I figured for that reason alone, I got the better end of the deal. I liked waffles.
Sort of.
At least enough to suck it up for my mom’s sake.
I took another look at Aunt Jemima. I mean Victor. Dark blond hair, nice strong jaw, lean frame. Totally my type.
