Page 13 of Liquids

I tamp down the sharp rush of air into my lungs. He turned you down last time, Carl. Remember? But he’s upright. Alive.

“Marni and I were lying low until the cops finished searching the area. Are you okay?”

“Been in the hospital for several hours with Dr. Moreno.” He waves a bandaged hand at my door. “Need a place to stay.”

Ah. Maybe he’s not really here to see me, then. I slot my key in the lock and turn it.

“Well, you can’t stay here. I’ve got a …” but before I can get whatever word I might use to describe what’s going on with Dave out, he steps into me and his lips are on mine.

He picks me up like I weigh nothing and shoulders through the door, kicking it shut with his foot. Something hits the floor as he carries me through the living room.

He collapses us down onto my bed, his mouth insistent, lips firm and dry. He tastes like coffee and some kind of antiseptic, but he doesn’t appear to give a damn about his injuries. What am I doing?

“Been lookin’ forward to this for a month,” he says.

A month? He told me to go away! A moment of sanity returns: “I’m …” But he silences me with his mouth, tongue sliding inside as his big hand cups one breast over my top, and a shudder runs through him, hips grinding into mine. He winces as I run my hands down his broad back and find his ass and squeeze. God, he feels good.

“You’re gonna have to avoid the bruises, babe.”

Suddenly, I want to take what I can from every minute of this. Rig’s back in my bed. Is Dave with me for any reason other than it’s something he doesn’t have to work too hard for? No. And I’m so tired of being taken advantage of by the guys in this town. I understand Rig’s doing that, too, but it was good last time. It was also fast and furious, and I didn’t get to be on top. But Rig does need to know where I’m at.

“I’ve been seeing someone,” I start.

His lips trails down my neck. “Don’t give a fuck about that, babe. You can ditch him.”

“What?”

“Well, you wouldn’t be kissing me if you liked him, would you?”

Oh my God, men. The arrogance of it! I open my mouth to tell him to get the fuck off me, but he silences me again by kissing me, and my whole body dissolves into the mattress. Goddammit.

“I want to be on top,” I gasp out.

He rolls off me and onto the faded patterned comforter, puts his hands behind his head, and studies me with heated eyes.

“Have at it, babe.”

This is just sex for him, clearly. It can be just sex for me, too, though. Why not? And it was good last time. Really good.

My fingers find the edge of his T-shirt, and I push it up. Washboard abs appear, then a smattering of hair covering firm pecs and nipples. I bend my head and test my teeth on one of them. He groans, pushing up to sitting and breaking my hold as he whips off his T-shirt, tossing it across the room.

His hands come to my waist, and he squeezes, chest tightening. He’s so goddamn huge, muscles bulging from his shoulders and his biceps, now all covered in red welts and bruises that are starting to come up under his skin. I run my hand over him.

“We need to put something on these …”

He silences me with a long, slow kiss. Pushing my hair over my shoulder, I grab the bottom of my own top and pull it up and over my head. There’s nothing underneath, and his eyes go molten as my breasts rise as I stretch up, his hands coming up to cup them as he squeezes and shifts his hips, pressing his hard length into my crotch. I throw my T-shirt behind me and lean forward into his erection, watching how his gaze doesn’t move from his hands on me. His fingers tighten, stretched over every part of my chest, one thumb rubbing gently over a tight nipple. He presses up into me again, right where I want it. So hot. But I know from the first time that he’s big, and no way am I ready.

Can he read that thought in my face? His hands drop to the waistband of my leggings, pulling them down over my hips, and I move off him to shuck them off. When I shift back over him, his hand is up my thigh and under the edge of my panties, a long finger finding my entrance and circling as he rubs his thumb over my clit. With my knees spread wide, his touch is light and teasing, just enough to make tingles travel through every part of my pelvis. I push into his hand, and he growls, his other hand sliding into my hair. He holds me where he wants me as he runs his tongue up my neck, testing his teeth gently below my ear as his fingers toy with me and I move my hips against his hand.

“Yeah, babe,” he says hoarsely as he bites my lobe, and I let out a short yelp.

And all of a sudden, I’m desperate to get him inside me. My hands land on his chest and slide down to where he’s confined behind his jeans, skating my fingers over where he’s hard. His hand tightens in my hair, and he flicks my clit once and I shiver.

“Two can play that game; remember where I’ve got my finger.” He does something inside me that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head.

The button on his waistband is stiff as I fumble with it, pulling down his zip and sliding my hand underneath the denim. He’s not wearing any boxers. And he’s huge and hot and hard in my hand. A beat goes by … two. He chuckles.

“We’ll be okay, babe. It was fuckin’ great last time.”