Fuck me.
It’s not the ratty miss-matched outfit she wore the other night. No, this little outfit is for me. She’s silhouetted by the light in the fridge, her naked legs taking my attention first, followed by the pink, silk shorts which are barely covering her ass.
I repeat, fuck me.
She bends down, reaching into the fridge for a glass pitcher. My cock twitches at the sight, and to stop myself from blowing my load right then and there, I sit up and adjust myself.
“What are you doing up?” I ask when I’ve sorted myself out. The pitcher hits the floor in an almighty smash at my voice, and instantly I’m up off the sofa.
“Jesus, Hetch, you scared the shit out of me.” She reaches for a towel to clean up the mess.
“Don’t move,” I warn, but in typical Liberty fashion, she doesn’t listen.
“Shit!” she hisses, her foot rising up to pull out a shard of glass. I step over the mess, pick her up and place her on the counter top.
“Jesus, woman, you’re fucking drama.”
“I beg your pardon,” she huffs out in an undignified way, her scowl morphing from discomfort to annoyance.
“You heard me.” I don’t try to sugarcoat it. She’s drama. It’s whether or not I’m digging the drama or not.
Fuck me, I’m digging it.
“I did, but care to explain what exactly you mean by drama?” Her brows rise in an expectant stare.
“I mean every time I’m near you, you’re a mess. You have the worst luck.”
“Please, I don’t need you reminding me.”
I reach for the broom and sweep the broken glass the best I can in the pool of water.
“I can do it.” She starts to slide off the counter, but my gaze finds hers, relaying my order to stay put.
“I’m sure you can. You can also sit there and let me take care of you.” She retreats, not saying anything. The sound of the glass tinkling against the floor is the only sound between us.
Once I’ve managed to clear up most of the mess, I move back to her. Kneeling down and lifting her foot to take a closer look. Her pink toenails are what have my attention first. They’re almost the same color as her sexy sleepwear.
“I think you’re good, no damage.” I clear my throat, my thumb slightly rubbing at the smooth skin of her ankle.
“I could have told you that, Hetch.” I note the tiny gasp and the familiar glazing of her eyes as she tries not to show how affected she is.
“Maybe, but where would the fun be in that?” My hand travels up her leg, carefully caressing the smoothness, painfully memorizing her softness. Instead of pulling back from my touch, she rocks forward, drawn in by it.
“You always like to take care of people?” Her voice is thick with need, almost as thick as my cock.
“Not always.” I’m mildly responsive to her questions, but more fascinated with touching than talking.
“Then what’s your deal with me?” It takes me a second to think my answer over. What is my deal? It’s not like I’m interested in getting serious with her. Sure, I want to fuck her, but it’s as far as this could ever be.
Right?
“Can I get back to you on that one?” My hand continues to travel up her leg, careful not to push too hard. A sharp intake of breath has me halting, my eyes finding hers. They burn with need, speaking to me, urging me to keep this going.
“You want me to stop?” I don’t know why I ask. I’m not trying to slow this down, far from it, but I still want her to be comfortable.
“Can I get back to you?” Her head rolls to the side, exposing the creamy smooth skin of her neck. It’s a smart remark; it’s also not a no, so I inch a little closer, my hand wandering over her knee, and up over her thigh.
“You’re gonna have to think fast, babe. I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to hold off.” Her pulse quickens in her neck. A slow growl forms in the pit of my stomach, clawing its way up to my mouth.
I want to put my lips on that pulse. To own it. Own what I’m creating inside of her. Own her need and her want. I want to lick at it. Feel it under my tongue. Revel in the fact I created it.
“Liberty?” I press. My fingers rest on the hem of the satin shorts that had me crawling off the sofa in the first place.
“Yeah?”
“This okay?” I ask again. My tongue flicks out, licking at the erratic pulse that’s driving me wild.
“Yeah,” she pants, her legs spreading wider. It’s all I need to slip my hand up her shorts and slide my fingers into the warm heat between her legs.
Fuck me sideways. No panties.
The soft moan coming from her lips tell me she’s into it.
“Jesus, never felt something so fucking good.” My dick hardens in my shorts as my finger hooks inside of her.
“Yeah.” Her head lolls to the side. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” I swallow her words, not wanting to talk about other women. Not now. Not here. Not ever.
“Liberty.” My mouth moves over hers as I add a second finger and pick up my pace.