Tom rose as Lizzie made her way up the deck. He realized the late hour and that he hadn’t had the chance to sit down and talk with her. Molly had kept him occupied all damn night. So damn clingy. Insecurity was taking over her, and in turn, annoying the hell out of him. He’d been so excited to spend time with Lizzie and catch up, but Molly ruined it with her lack of self-confidence.
Though Lizzie seemed to hold her own. First with Ollie and Gwen then with Marc. He was glad that they’d seemed to hit it off. Tom trusted his best friend to keep his old best friend entertained. He’d looked over their way from time to time, and both seemed to be having a good time, laughing and talking most of the night. At least someone had.
Molly needed to be reassured which meant he spent part of his evening in his bedroom fucking giving it to her. Normally he didn’t mind. She kept his mind off the woman he wanted—had wanted for way too long—Mia. From the first day he met her over six years ago.
But tonight, he’d wanted to be with his friends . . . especially the long lost one.
“Hon, I’m going to head home. I’m really glad I came,” Lizzie said.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” he said. “I feel bad—”
“Don’t feel bad. Just make sure we catch up—alone—real soon.”
Tom would definitely have to do that. He needed to know what’d been happening in her life these past few years. What kept her away, what brought her back. She wrapped her arms around his torso and when he secured her in his, he swore he heard her sigh.
“Believe me, I’ll call. I won’t let it be another year before we talk again,” he said, feeling her cheeks against his chest lift up in a smile. He liked that feeling.
“Good night, Tom,” she said, rising up and pressing her lips on his cheek.
“Good night, Lizzie.”
She took a step back and gave him a small yet content smile before turning and leaving the backyard. He stood staring at the place she vacated, knowing that he’d be making some changes to his life now that Lizzie was back in it.
Lizzie
As she walked to her Jeep, Lizzie thought about what the hell she was about to do in the next thirty minutes—sex with the mysterious yet so very sexy Marc. The thought excited her more than she’d been in years.
Yes, years.
Way too many years. Could she be classified as a born-again virgin? Would she even remember what she needed to do? Was sex really like riding a bike? The basics she knew. Take dick, insert into vagina, move it in and out, then boom! Orgasm.
Supposedly.
She was so out of practice!
A part of her wanted to turn on the Jeep and leave and not chance making a fool out of herself, but the thing that kept her there was that easy connection she had with Marc. Another thing she really hadn’t had in years—companionship. Of any kind.
That was something she wanted so badly. Especially with Marc.
He knocked on the windshield, an excited smile on his handsome face, and Lizzie wondered what his kickstand looked like. The moment the thought crossed her mind she almost broke out laughing. Oh God, Lizzie, you are giddy as fuck and your clothes haven’t even been shed. Simmer the hell down.
“Hop in,” she said to him. As soon as he clicked his seatbelt in place, she gunned the motor and pulled out of the parking spot.
Marc directed her the short distance to his house. Once in his driveway, she cut the engine and turned her attention all on him. She wanted him. How on earth had she even considered not going through with this? She needed him.
Her heart pounded, her body pulsed with her need. As if he sensed the tumultuous feelings inside her, he leaned over and placed his lips on hers, softly at first, but the electricity that coursed between them ignited something inside of her. Desperation to be closer to him fueled her movements, but the damn center console blocked her path.
She felt his smile against her lips, then with ease, he pulled her across the console and onto his lap, her knees finding a home on either side of him. She sighed inwardly when she felt the hardness between her legs. His kickstand was so much bigger than she’d thought.
She moved on him, crushing her chest to his, her mouth to his hard lips. His hands traveled between their bodies to the zipper of her hoodie and quickly unzipped it, grazing her breasts along the way, making her nipples harden at the touch. He pushed the fabric off her shoulders and let it slide to the floor of the Jeep. His warm hands moved under her tank and held her chilled breasts in his hands. She arched her back, silently telling him to take more, do more to her. Marc seemed to understand her unspoken plea because his open mouth surrounded her fabric-covered nipple, forcing his name to spill out of her mouth.
With a parting nip, he left her breast. “I like my name on your lips,” he spoke heatedly as his kiss floated over her skin. “Just about as much as those moans you make when my lips move over your body. I want more.”
Oh, Lord . . . so did she. So much more. She wanted to scream it—hell, she wanted to scream out in the ecstasy he gave her.
“Do you want more, Lizzie?” he asked, his hands leaving her body.
Inwardly, she cried out, missing his hands on her. Outwardly, she answered him truthfully. “Yes . . . please.”
With a swift kiss to her lips, he reached to his left and grabbed the keys from the ignition, before leaning forward.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he whispered against her ear. After she complied, he maneuvered them out of the Jeep and led them to the back of his house where he had a separate entrance to his second level. When they finally got to his bedroom, he placed her in the center of the bed and continued the task of removing her clothes. First, the thin white tank top, then the nude-colored bra. Kneeling before her, he slowly removed her shoes, his thumb trailing where the shoe had once been. A delicious shiver shot straight up from her foot to her neck.
His nimble hands made quick work of her shorts and thong then he began the pleasant unveiling of his own body. He removed his shirt and threw it on the chair. When his eyes caught hers, she knew she was a goner.
He made his way back to her slowly, placing warm kisses along her legs, her stomach, her breasts, and when he finally arrived at her mouth, she wanted to flip him over and do the same to him. She wanted to devour him and he must have seen the look in her eyes because his body pushed against hers until she was finally lying flat against the bed.
She ran her hands along his strong back, loving the feel of him, tracing the outline of his ass. His breathing quickened against her throat as she felt her way along his jeans to his waist, moving her hands between the fabric and his skin. This was about the craziest thing she had ever done in her life, but this felt right. He made her feel . . . incredible. He stimulated her . . . in more ways than one.
After she deftly unbuttoned his pants, Lizzie slid her hand inside and her breath caught as she tried to grasp his cock in her hand. Her eyes quickly fell downward and widened in shock. This was no kickstand. It was a goddamn post!
He lifted his face above hers and smiled wickedly. “I warned you, didn’t I? Don’t worry . . . it won’t hurt at all.”
She bit off a laugh. She hoped it wouldn’t, though it might if her lack of sex had sealed her vagina shut. That fear didn’t stop her from touching him, tracing the vein from the base to the tip. He closed his eyes and fell onto her as she continued her exploration. Her other hand sought out his balls and Marc almost bolted from her.
“You wicked girl,” he said, his mouth twitching with amusement. “You do that anymore and I won’t make it,” he added, making quick work of removing his jeans and getting a condom.
“Thank God,” Lizzie exclaimed huskily at the protection in his hands. No sex for her equaled no birth control. No need for it.
With fascination, she watched him roll the condom on, her eyes traveling from the light dusting of hair up his lean stomach to his chest, her voyage ending at those sensuous lips of his. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her onto hi
s lap. Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him while he reached for her legs and secured them behind him, the tip of his cock teasing her thigh.
Their eyes locked as she eased herself upon him. Her head rolled back as she maneuvered all of him in her, her back arching, feeling him in so many glorious ways. She felt full—extraordinarily full.
“You okay?” he asked, his mouth above the hollow of her throat.
“Just let me feel it for a little bit . . . please . . .” she begged breathlessly. God, it felt better than she remembered. How had she let so much time pass her by?
“I’m going to make sure that you do.”
She never would’ve thought that just sitting there with him pulsing inside of her would bring her that close to the edge, but he was the right fit for her.
When he started to move his body, his strong arms holding her securely, the moans rolled out of her as his cock filled her over and over. The moment his name left her lips, he stilled his movements and flipped them over, the weight of his body feeling glorious on top of her. He moved within her again, slowly at first, then more quickly as he coaxed the first magnificent orgasm out of her.
“Oh my God . . .” she groaned.
“My sentiments exactly,” he said before capturing her lips in a fierce kiss as he exploded inside of her, his release seeming to surprise him.
It was wondrously quick and fast and she wanted more.
“Again?” she asked, running her fingers up and down his back.
He pushed himself up, his above hers, and he smiled. “Hell yeah, again.”
Lizzie
Lizzie rested, protected in the circle of Marc’s arms, superbly spent from her night with him. The whirling fan above kept her cool. He’d switched it on sometime in the night when she had napped. Because she hadn’t really slept. He’d never given her a chance. Those hands of his that currently kept her close to him had given her all sorts of bliss last night.
She snuggled closer to Marc and planted a kiss on the side of his torso, causing him to stir beneath her. A small grin came to her mouth as an idea came to her. She carefully pulled the sheet away from him and saw the evidence of good dreams resting on his lower abs. Now it was her turn to wake him up like he’d done to her. Throwing one leg over him, Lizzie straddled him, his cock nestled enticingly between her folds. A tilt of her hips had his cock gliding against her clit, teasing her. A shudder coursed through her and she really wished she knew where the damn condoms were because she wanted to impale herself upon him and take a nice leisurely Sunday drive on his cock. Instead of that, she continued moving along his erection and when it twitched beneath her, Lizzie knew he was awake, causing her to internally shout for joy.
“What are you doing up there, missy?” he asked, as his hands cupped her bottom, his fingers digging deliciously into her flesh.
“Oh, I was just a little bored waiting for you to wake up. Would you like me to stop?” she asked, slowing her movements.
“Fuck no! Nightstand. Condom. Now,” he ordered, lightly tapping her ass.
Quickly doing as he asked, Lizzie handed him the foil wrapper and the instant the condom covered him, he flipped her over, pulling a surprised gasp from her. He quickly quieted her with that wonderful mouth of his as he thrust inside of her, knocking her head into the headboard and she swore she heard bells with each masterful stroke of his.
“Do you hear bells?” she whispered in his ear when he leaned in and suckled her neck.
He paused and that’s when she heard it—the doorbell. Glancing at the clock then back to her, Marc appeared torn and she couldn’t have that right now. She needed this orgasm. He built it perfectly. “Forget about it,” she urged, reaching up and taking his bottom lip within hers, tugging on it while she squeezed his cock.
With a smile, he did just that and focused on making her scream.
“Be right back,” Marc said after depositing the condom in the trash. “Gonna check the door,” he added, pulling on his jeans from yesterday.
Pushing herself out of bed, she went to the bathroom and took care of business. While she washed her hands, Lizzie looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and a smile touched her lips at the glow radiating from her skin along with all the love bites gracing her shoulders and breasts. Touching each one, she thought about how she’d received them and sighed.
She looked well-fucked and loved it.
Throwing on her shorts and top, she wrapped everything else in her hoodie as she heard Marc walking up the stairs. He stood in the doorway, shirtless and wearing only his jeans. He hadn’t bothered to button them and looked so damn sexy that all she could think of was getting him out of them.
“Good morning,” he said, sauntering further into the room. He rummaged through the armoire looking for clothes.
“Is it?” she asked.
He turned to regard her, looking confused. “What?”
“Morning?” she supplied.
“For a few more minutes, it is,” he chuckled lightly.
She smiled her dismissal of the topic. “I had a terrific time last night.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asked, stalling his search of his dresser and stepping over to her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her close.
“Yeah . . .” she answered, standing on her tiptoes and pulling his head down to kiss him, her hunger for him fueling her boldness. His hold around her tightened and she could feel his arousal between them. Abruptly, he pulled his mouth from hers.
“Oh, babe . . . I don’t want to stop—I truly don’t, but I’m already way late, and I won’t live it down if I don’t go.”
“Where?” she asked, placing kisses on his chest.
He moaned against her hair. She knew when her lips found his neck she was making it a struggle for him to concentrate. “Uh . . . the Cubs/Sox game with Tom and a few of our buddies . . . oh, God, you have got to stop or my friends will hate me,” he groaned half-heartedly, the pads of his fingers pressing into her hips.
She pulled her head back, loving the arousal swimming in his eyes. “Marc, was this just one night? Is this it?” she asked, her hands finding a home inside the back of his pants, caressing the bare skin.
“Heck, no . . . I can come over to your house after the game . . .”
“You don’t know where I live.” She rested her head against his chest, listening to his pounding heartbeat. He placed his chin on the top of her head.
“Well . . . will you tell me where you live?”
“I’ll write it down for you before I leave, I promise. I’ll even leave you my number,” she replied, looking up at him.
“You better or else . . .” he warned jokingly.
His lips quickly found hers again then he stepped back but she wanted him to know what he would be missing. Lizzie pulled him back, her tongue darting into his mouth, her fingers tracing the waist of his jeans, occasionally slipping between the fabric and his skin.
He frantically broke the embrace. “Okay, okay . . . be nice, will ya? Haven’t you tortured me enough already? I have to sit at the game thinking of you,” he paused. “When I’d rather be with you—here—preferably naked,” he added.
As he headed into the bathroom, she smiled at him. He turned back. “Lizzie?”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t forget to leave your address and number.”
“I won’t,” she said, a pleased smile breaking out on her face.
“Good. Now get before I yank you in here with me,” he exclaimed jokingly, pointing towards the door.
“But I like that idea.”
He chuckled. “Bye, Elizabeth.”
Damn, she really liked how he said her full name as if it was full of promise of what was to come.
Marc
Marc drove like a madman down North Avenue, zooming around cars before hopping onto Ashland Avenue. He checked the clock on the radio again—1:15. Fuck! The game started in five minutes and he wasn’t even close to Addison yet.<
br />
Being with Lizzie shorted his brain. He’d completely forgotten about the game until he found a folded piece of paper under his front door with the word “asshole” written on it. Inside of it was his ticket to the game and another message, “Ho’s before bros?”
Tom’s message definitely wasn’t subtle. Marc knew his best friend was pissed at him for messing with tradition. For years, Marc and his friends went to at least one of these crosstown rivalry games and cheered on their Cubs. Marc loved this time with his friends and hadn’t wanted to miss it. His brother, Clark, as well as Todd and Marty would be there. It’d been a few months since he’d last seen them. They’d supposedly gotten in late last night, just for this game. If they could make it, he could pull his cock out of Lizzie’s hypnotizing pussy.
But just barely.
Traffic on Addison was close to impossible, but eventually he got to Clark Street and found a quick park where he crammed his car in the lot and got out of the car to pay the attendant.
“Thirty dollars,” said the attendant.
“Thirty dollars? Give me a break,” Marc muttered as he dug the money out of his wallet.
He ran to the main gate of Wrigley Field, handed the attendant his ticket, and entered the stadium. Checking the stub, he was happy that they’d be sitting on the first base side, five rows from the bullpen.
Awesome, he thought as he made his way through the excited crowd to the beer cart. He waited in line, where he finally had a moment to relax, but he didn’t relax—he kept picturing a naked Lizzie before him, her sweetness waiting for him to fill her. God, she was amazing. So much in such a small package. Shaking his head, he smiled because he knew he’d just landed upon something really good. She was smart, beautiful, feisty as hell, and had a sense of humor to match his. He’d never laughed as much as he had while in bed with a woman. Not to mention her uncanny ability to turn him on with just her smile. So damn sexy!
Fuck, just thinking about her turned him on, he thought, shifting his shorts to accommodate the swell growing there.
Losing You (Stars On Fire #4) Page 3