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My eyes flutter closed. I'm back in the ER again, only it's right after the accident. I'm not calm. I'm terrified. The nurse is giving me the bad news, that mom and dad are gone, that Lizzy is in the ICU. I'm running down the halls without any awareness of my legs moving, then staring through the glass window watching her heart rate on the monitor.
I was terrified she was going to die. Not just for her sake, but because I couldn't bear to lose her. I couldn't bear to be alone.
My legs go weak. I press my back against the fridge and slide down, all the way to the floor. I'm still here, in Blake's apartment, but I'm powerless and terrified all the same.
It's too easy to lose everything that matters.
What if I lose Blake too?
A tear stings my eyes. There's no use in fighting it. I pull my knees into my chest and dig my fingers into the rough fabric of my jeans.
There are footsteps, but I don't look up. Then there are arms around me. Blake slings his arm under my knees, carries me to the couch, and lays me down on my back.
He runs his finger along my collarbone.. No words. What good would words do? They won't bring back my parents. They won't bring back Meryl. They won't ease this.
I finally manage to blink my eyes open. He's staring at me protectively. He holds up a bottle of anti-bacterial cream. I nod as if to give him permission.
Blake is tender as he cleans and treats my minor wound. He does it with ease, like he's treated plenty of wounds before.
He has treated plenty of wounds before.
The thought tears at my gut.
His fingers brush my cheek. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"Losing you." I throw my head back to see out the window. It's still blinding white. "I lost almost everything once. I don't know if I can do it again."
He slides onto the couch next to me. His fingers go to my chin and he tilts me so we're eye to eye. "Would you like to discuss it?"
I shake my head.
"How about get your mind off it?"
His eyes flash. He's not offering to watch a movie or play a game. At least not a conventional game.
"We need to put the cookies in the oven," I say.
He smiles. "How are you so able to put other things ahead of what you want?"
I've been doing it a long time. Not as much anymore, but it's a hard habit to break.
"I'll put them in the oven after I take care of you." He presses his lips against my forehead. "Do you want to rest?"
"No."
"Do you want a release?"
I don't hesitate. "Yes."
"Then sit up straight and unzip your jeans."
Chapter 5
I move as fast as humanly possible. Faster even. In a flash, I'm upright and my zipper is down. I don't dare do anything else to my jeans.
Blake kneels in front of me. "Ass up."
I do as I'm asked.
He pulls my jeans over my ass then down my thighs. He does it slowly, revealing one inch at a time.
An ache builds between my legs. I need him touching me properly. And I need to touch him. I only hope he can tell how desperate I am to feel all of him.
Finally, he pulls the jeans off my feet. His fingers trace his work, up my calves and thighs. They settle on my hips and tug at the sides of my panties.
These are a much sexier pair. Black lace boyshorts that make my ass look fantastic. Blake licks his lips, pleased. It takes everything I have not to pull off my sweater to show him the matching bra.
"Did you wear those for me?" he asks.
"Yes," I breathe. "In case it was too much. I wanted something that would grab your attention as quickly as possible."
His expression is heavy with lust. It worked. I can't say that I have any desire to brag.
I spread my legs, shifting closer to the edge of the couch.
Blake grabs my knees and holds me in place. "Patience."
His fingers trail up my thighs again. My breath picks up. My heart races. My body is not patient. It needs him touching me. It needs something to chase everything else away.
"Stand up." He pats the ground in front of the couch. "Feet here."
I shift off the couch. He's right in front of me, his head about two inches from my sex. My thighs clench in anticipation. Yes, please. I want that mouth on me.
He digs his hands into the flesh of my ass. Then his nails. The burst of pain calls all my attention. My concerns about holidays, my memories, my desperate fear of losing control— all of that fades away until there's nothing but his nails against my skin.
Blake grabs the sides of my panties. Slowly, he pulls them off my ass, down my thighs, all the way to my feet. His hands close around my ankles like he's warning me not to kick the underwear out of the way.
His breath is warm against my skin. I shake. I have to dig my hands into the outside of my hips to keep from moving.
He goes slow, tracing his way back up my leg. He brings his arm around my ass and uses it to push my body forward. It's almost impossible to keep my balance, especially with his breath sending shockwaves over my sex.
"Don't move," he says.
"But—"
"Not until you come."
He presses his lips against my pelvis. Then an inch below. Then his lips are against my clit.
Don't move? How the hell am I supposed to manage that? He slides between my legs and licks me from top to bottom.
It takes every ounce of attention to do anything but collapse. I press my calves against the front of the couch. It's the only way to keep my balance as Blake licks me.
His tongue is soft, wet, and so, so warm. Every flick of it sends a wave of pleasure through me. Usually, I'd grab his hair and clench my toes. Without an outlet, I go deep into the ecstasy. It's so intense that I lose track of the entire world.
All I know is Blake's tongue on me. It works magic, soft and flat then hard and pointed, fast and greedy then slow and patient. He moans into the inside of my thigh. He needs this as much as I do.
"Blake," I groan.
It urges him on. He brings his free hand to my thigh. It's two inches away. Then one.
His finger teases my sex.
I gasp. My knees buckle, but I manage to stay upright. If I move, he'll stop. I may not be bound, but I'm still at his mercy.
And
God, how I love being at his mercy.
"Blake." It's a plea as much as anything.
It doesn't work. He runs his finger along me, making zig zags but not going inside me. His tongue slides over my clit, focusing in on just the right spot.
Pleasure bursts through me. It's hard to stay upright. I close my eyes to focus on the sensation. The pressure inside me is deep. A few more moments and I'll be at the edge. Then I'll be coming so hard I can't breathe.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. I need to be here, right in this moment, soaking in the feeling of Blake's soft tongue.
Heat builds between my legs with every lick. He brings his hand back to my sex, teasing mercilessly. I fight my desire to beg. He won't leave me without.
Just when I want it enough to scream, Blake slides his finger inside me. I sigh in relief. Yes. I need him inside me, even if it's his fingers and not his cock.
He brings his teeth to my thigh, nipping at my skin as he fucks me with his finger. I groan. I shake. I squeeze my fingertips together. Anything except moving out of this position.
He adds another finger. His teeth sink hard into my thigh.
It's too much. It feels too good. My knees buckle and I fall right back on the couch. So close to the edge but not quite there.
Blake's eyes are on fire. He pulls off his sweater and his t-shirt. I scan his body like it's the first time. Broad shoulders, strong chest, perfect abs, soft tuft of hair above his jeans.
My body is aching, desperate for release. "Blake," I groan. "Please."
"You're not coming yet." He digs his hand into my hair. "On your knees."
A spark ignites inside me. That's almost as good. Better even. I shift off the couch, on my knees in front of him, so I'm face to face with his crotch.
His hard cock is pressing against his jeans. I want to drag my fingers over it, but I have to wait. He's not taking this away from me.
"Unzip my jeans," he says.
I do.
"Do you want to touch me, Kat?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to suck my cock?"
"Yes."
He pushes his jeans off his hips. Then the boxers. I press my hands against my thighs to contain my desperate need to touch him. Not until he says.
