by Nyla K
The first time we put clothes on, they ended up off in the blink of an eye, before we were ravaging each other on the bedroom floor. The second time, we made it out of the bedroom, but as soon as we got to the hallway, I had his pants down and his dick in my throat. And the third time, which should’ve been the charm, he got distracted by the dress I was wearing and made me come with his tongue between my thighs on the staircase.
We’re just trying to get downstairs, dammit.
Now I’m wearing pants, and we’ve made it to the kitchen. I expect we’ll end up fucking in here at some point, because clearly we’re fiends and it’s bordering on unhealthy. But for right now I think we’re safe, mainly because we both physically need nourishment before we collapse.
The two of us are so damn hungry, we’re eating everything in his fridge. It’s actually funny. The kitchen counters and island are covered in containers of lasagna, stir-fry, enchiladas, baked chicken, pasta salad and even cheesecake. We’re like two pregnant ladies.
“I love food,” Lazarus rumbles with a mouthful.
I smile and peek at him, shoveling mole chicken enchiladas into my mouth and loving life.
“FYI, you look like you only consume grilled chicken breasts, broccoli and protein shakes,” I aim my fork at his abs. “I was beyond thrilled to find you had actual delicious food in your house.”
“I work out extra so I can eat like this.” He gives me a wide smile that almost makes my panties slide down my legs on their own. I can’t help but laugh and wiggle my eyebrows at him.
“You’re so sexy.” Suddenly, I want to forgo the food and eat him on this goddamn counter.
He growls, “Behave, Little Trick,” focusing on his food while visibly attempting to smother a giant smile.
I feel like if I jumped into the air right now, I would fly. I’m weightless with this man.
But because I’m me, my thoughts wander.
I know Lazarus loves to eat. We’ve been eating together for years, before and after we began hooking up. Food is important to him, and I think it’s because he never had it growing up.
I’ve heard comments in the past, made by Mom and Dad. I’ve seen pictures of Lazarus as a kid, and by kid, I mean around fifteen when he and Dad became friends. No one has any pictures of him from before that, and I’d be surprised if any even exist.
But teenage Lazarus was scrawny for sure, and what with the details I now know from the journal I have stashed in my room, I’m not surprised. All his foster families were poor, and I know at Two and Three in particular, he didn’t get much in the way of food.
Now that my mind is rushing through all of this, I have a million questions to ask him and only one set of lips.
“When did you start, like, working out?” I try to sound casual as I lick sauce off my fork.
He’s quiet for a moment before his eyes lift and he squints at me. “Um, I don’t know… Probably more in college. I mean, we did gym class in high school, but I don’t think that counts for anything.”
“So you started bulking up in college?” My brow raises, and he grins.
“Bulking up? Who am I, Arnold Schwarzenegger?” That little dimple on his right cheek is damn near irresistible.
“You’re so old,” I giggle. “No one talks about him anymore.”
This makes him burst out laughing, to which my insides hum. “Okay, smartass. Who should I use as the bar of reference for a jacked guy then?”
“Hmm… John Cena’s pretty hot,” I shrug.
“I didn’t ask you who was hot,” he grumbles, and now it’s my turn to laugh out loud. “Anyway, yea, I guess you could say I bulked up in college. Why does it matter? Are you saying you only love me for my insanely awesome body?”
The chuckles are just pouring out of me, and it’s everything. I haven’t had this kind of easy, chill moment with Lazarus in a while. And even before everything went down, they were few and far between.
As much as I’ve always craved the physical stuff with him, being able to hang out and giggle together is probably more appealing than anything else I could dream up.
Not to mention the look on Laz’s face at getting me to laugh is the thick, creamy icing on the delicious cake of this newfound relationship.
“I’m just interested in your life,” I sigh, hopping off my chair and sidling up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I want to know all about what you were like growing up. What made you the man you are today.”
“A lot of fucked up shit and one amazing guy made me the man I am today.”
His gaze suddenly sticks to the marble bar. Forcing down my own internal grief, I push past it before we both get swept up in the mourning cloud. I press my lips to his clavicle, the number 4 staring at me as it peeks out of his t-shirt collar.
A light switches on in my brain.
“I have an idea…” I whisper, and he curls his neck to look down at me. “Come on.”
I don’t even wait for him to follow before I’m darting away, to the stairs.
I hear him shout, “Where are we going?” But I don’t stop or answer.
Running up the steps, I make a right down the hall, dashing into my room and lifting the corner of my mattress. I grab his journal, the one I took from his office, and rush with it cradled in my arms, back downstairs, passing him at the bottom.
“What the hell are you doing?” He asks as I take his arm, dragging him toward the backdoor.
“I have a plan,” I tell him, out of breath from running up and down all those steps, tugging his weight along as he clearly doesn’t feel like scampering with me. “I think it’ll help.”
“Help what? We were stuffing our faces,” he grumbles, and I peek over my shoulder at him with a smirk.
I really do love his grumpiness.
We head out onto the back patio where I walk us around the pool over to the barbecue enclosure.
“Do you have any lighter fluid?” I peek at him, curiosity lining my tone. “Or gasoline. And matches?”
His eyes widen and he gapes at me like I’ve lost my mind. “I have literally no idea why you’d ever ask me that, but yes. I do.”
He looks and sounds nervous about what I’m potentially trying to do, but he’s conceding to me, which has to be one of the sexiest and most endearing things he’s done. He steps away to a shed by his pool house across the yard, and while he’s gone, I pick a spot for my little plan. I choose off to the side, so as not to ruin his expensive lawn decor, but obviously not too close to trees, because I’m not trying to burn his property down either.
Lazarus returns with a can of lighter fluid, reluctantly holding it out to me. But before I can grab it, he yanks it away.
“Please tell me what you’re going to do…” He pleads quietly, his tone much more insecure than I’m used to hearing from his mouth.
I give him a comforting smile and hold up the journal. “We’re going to burn this shit to the ground, baby.”
He gawks at the journal, then looks to me. His lips part but honestly, he appears baffled, and it’s really fucking cute, though I’m hoping I haven’t upset him with this idea.
But right before I can panic and start second-guessing my plan, a humble smile crosses his face.
“Let’s do it,” he says with authority, and I’m so excited I have to squeal a little. He holds his hand out for me to give him the journal which I do. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Aww. So sweet, but you know I’m resilient,” I grin, to which he chuckles.
“Fair point, Trix.”
He tosses the journal onto the ground and dumps a bunch of lighter fluid all over it. Then he pulls a book of matches out of his pocket and strikes it, giving me a quick, eager smirk before tossing it right onto the book.
It goes up instantly, flames covering the whole thing, burning it into a singed, black lump. Papers from the inside turn to ash, little bits of which rise and float through the air.
I grab Laz’s hand and squeeze while we watch
it go, all the bad memories of his Four and everything they did… All they got away with, being burned up until they’re nothing but dust.
“Thank you,” he whispers, and I look up to see his gray eyes flit to mine. “It’s been a long time. I guess… I didn’t realize how much I was holding onto.”
“I know it’s not easy, Lazarus.” I turn to him and he does the same. “Of course you’ll never forget everything you went through, and honestly, I don’t think you should. All that fucked up shit is what made you the man you are today, flaws and all. But you need to stop seeing it as a bad thing. You are the strongest, fiercest person I’ve ever known. You burned these bastards up a long time ago, you know you did. I think it’s definitely time to move on. For both of us…”
He breathes out slowly and pulls me into him, hugging me hard to his chest beside all the bad memories we just sent up in flames.
Later that evening, after the sun goes down, we decide to go for a swim.
It’s a bit chilly outside, by Miami standards, but Lazarus assures me his pool is heated, and we can go into that nifty little alcove I’ve been wanting to check out, where there’s apparently a hot tub.
Naturally, the thought of being alone with him in a hot tub has my full attention.
I come out of the house in my bikini, with a giant fuzzy blanket wrapped around me, my head darting all about for any sign of him. I’m getting impatient, but before I can go back inside and start shouting his name, he emerges from the pool house in a white bathrobe.
I can tell just from looking at it that it’s extremely soft, and must be very expensive, like the ones you get at nice hotels. And he’s carrying what looks to be another one in his hands as he approaches me.
“We can match,” he grins, holding out the robe for me.
I smile like a ditz as I take it and look him over, marveling at how damn beautiful he is, and how bewildering it is that I’m here with him. At his home, where I live, with him, about to go swimming in his fancy, luxurious pool and probably have sex for like the fiftieth time today.
I’m mesmerized by it all, and I just wish I could travel back in time and tell fifteen-year-old Traci not to feel stupid for holding out for this man. She’ll get him, eventually.
All the patience definitely paid off.
I remove the blanket from myself and toss it on a nearby chair, with the robe which I supposed I can wear after to match him. What an adorable sex god he is.
“Whoa whoa whoa,” he fusses, and I look up from where I was about to step into the pool to see him giving me a look. “No way. Absolutely not.”
“What?” I squeak, bemused at his reaction and whatever the hell he’s ranting about.
“No clothes.” He nods at my body, or rather the bikini on it.
I grin and bite my lip. “Why? Are you naked under there?”
“That’s irrelevant, Little Trick.” He steps closer to me. “I want you to be naked. Will you do that for me?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s a pointless question, because you know I’ll do anything for you.”
He laughs out loud, the sight and sound of which continues to rock my world, and I’m obsessed with how much he keeps doing it for me now.
“‘Kay…” he croons and crosses his arms over his wide chest, staring at me with his brows raised.
Okay, so he’s just going to stand there and watch me strip. I’m down for that.
I untie my bikini top behind my neck and let it fall, revealing my breasts. My nipples immediately harden into points, because of how cool it is outside, which has his attention. His eyes are now stuck on my tits as he blinks at them, licking his lips like he’s about to savor a gourmet meal.
I untie the strings behind my back and remove it fully, before going for the bottoms, slipping them down my legs and stepping out. As expected, Lazarus is now gawking below my waist, his heated gaze warming me up as I scamper to the pool, descending the steps into the water.
I instantly submerge up to my neck and moan quietly to myself, because while it’s not hot like I’m sure the hot tub water is, it’s warm enough that it feels wonderful on my skin. Batting my eyelashes up at Lazarus, I give him an eager look, to which he grins and unties the robe from around his waist.
There’s no way he’s not naked under there…
Sure enough, as he opens his robe and shrugs it off his broad shoulders, tossing it onto the chair where my stuff is, all I can do is stare at him and try not to salivate visibly. Because yes, he’s completely naked, and yes, he’s a masterpiece of a human.
Lazarus trots down the steps into the pool, casually wading into the water in my direction while I chew on my lower lip like it’s a tasty treat. He doesn’t stop until he’s practically attached to me, running his strong hands up my butt and yanking me until I’m forced to wrap my legs around his waist.
The smell of him, that masculine, sweet yet fiery scent, mixed with the smell of the pool does very interesting things to my insides while I hold the nape of his neck and watch his eyes carefully. He’s dangerously sexy, and it’s alarming. I physically can’t pay attention to anything else when he’s around.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever held in my arms,” he murmurs, and I melt.
“You are more romantic than I thought you’d be,” I tease, to which he grins.
“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, because I’m way out of my league.” Holding me, he walks over to the entrance of the alcove, made of rocks with vines on them. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Lazarus, as much as I’d love to believe that, there’s no way I’m the first woman you’ve brought in here naked,” I brush my fingers through his dark hair. “And I’m fine with it. I know you’ve been with a lot of women. It doesn’t bother me as long as you’re with me now.”
My voice shrinks on that last part because even though we’ve confessed our feelings to each other, we haven’t discussed having a relationship or being exclusive, and I feel a little silly mentioning it.
I’ve been in love with this man for so many years when he had no idea, and even if he had, it wouldn’t have made a difference. During that time, I got used to him being a bachelor. It almost seems ridiculous to think he would change his way of life for a girl who’s so much younger than him.
Though it shouldn’t. I don’t care about our age difference, and I don’t think he does either. More importantly, if he could fake a relationship with Evangeline for over a year, I’m sure he could manage to be in a real one.
Does he want to, though? That’s the real question.
“No, I didn’t mean I’ve never brought a woman into the pool,” he cocks his head to the side. “I meant I’ve never… romanced someone before. Which sounds really corny, by the way.”
I laugh softly, then squint at him skeptically. “Not even Evangeline?”
“No. Not even Evangeline,” he sighs then dips us underneath the rock archway that separates the rest of the pool from the alcove.
I eye him in shock before gazing about our surroundings. This place is stunning.
It’s much darker and illuminated only by the lights at the bottom of the pool, which makes everything blue. We’re surrounded by rock on all sides, with some more vine-looking plants and even a waterfall on one side. The water is much warmer in here. It’s almost hot, though not stifling, which is good, since I’m not a fan of hot tubs that burn your flesh.
Still, it’s steamy because of the contrast from cool to hot, and it feels like we’re in a tropical rainforest. Alone. In the dark…
This is so sexy. It’s like this place was made for humping.
Coming back to Lazarus, I hold my breath, suddenly aware that this is exactly what this place is made for. I can only imagine how many girls he’s plowed against that rock wall, and as much as I was saying it didn’t matter two minutes ago, I’m feeling the creepy-crawlies of jealously wiggling through me, imagining the man I love doing the naked stuff he does with me to
all sorts of other ladies.
But before I can panic, he takes my chin in his fingers and says, “This is the first real relationship I’ve been in. With you, Trix.” Then he pauses and shakes his head on a rough exhale. “At forty years old. With an eighteen-year-old.”
“I don’t mind that you’re a late bloomer,” I go for humor, immediately pleased with my choice when he chuckles and his eyes drop to my lips.
“This is why I love you,” he sighs. “Because you make everything feel… normal. I mean, as normal as it gets for us, which isn’t all that normal. But still, when I’m with you, I don’t give a fuck how old you are, or what it might look like to anyone else. You make me want to flip my middle finger at the world for you, and that’s something I’ve only ever felt once before. For one very brief, very confusing moment.”
His gaze drops and he chews visibly on the inside of his cheek, seemingly having gone inside his head, which only happens when he’s thinking about my dad. And it’s still so fascinating, I have no choice but to just watch him like that for a few moments before bringing him back.
I take his face in my hands and inhale swiftly, preparing to say something that might make me sound completely insane. But honestly, he’s right. I’ve never felt normal, and this right here is proof.
“I’m honored to share your heart with him, Lazarus.” My eyes stay locked on his while a hand falls from his jaw, to rest over his heart. I can feel it, pounding away in there, and it gives me the most thrilling sense of presence I’ve ever felt before.
Everything that’s ever happened led us to this moment. To each other.
“God, Traci,” he chokes out then drops his forehead to mine. “I’m so fucking scared of losing you, too. I’m terrified that something is going to take you from me, it makes me want to hide with you inside this house and never leave.”
The way his voice shudders with raw emotion almost breaks me. Tears cloud my vision as I watch his lips, parted and trembling over mine. I want to give him whatever he needs. I have to. I can’t lose him either.
“I wish we could.”