Page 59 of Doing It for Love

“To paraphrase, absence makes the clitoris grow fonder.”

I jolt back. “What did you just say?”

She starts laughing, making me laugh and cover my cheeks again. If my right-winged, conservative mother spouts off any more medically correct words I’m going to have to surgically hinge my jaw back on.

Then again, I’d rather hear “clitoris” than “pussy.” Let’s leave that word only in Landon’s vocabulary.

Chapter 18

NOVEMBER

It’s been three months to the day since Landon’s proposal. Mom went back to Georgia, I’ve been working like a dog, and Landon’s been editing every night when I get home. So even though it’s 9:30, we’re both immobile in our bed.

“Liz, you still awake?” Landon asks.

“Mihimiflagon.”

“Do you remember when I…whenit…slipped?”

“Hrmmmh?”

“You know, that time we got a little rough and I came out and accidentally thrust back into your—”

“What in the world…?” I mumble in my half-sleep. We haven’t talked about the accidental slip since its occurrence. It hurt like hell, for one, and for two, it was embarrassing. We’d only been intimate a few times, but that time it washumphumphumphumphump, shit, ouch, holy mother of pearl,sorrysorrysorry,then we slept on polar opposites of the mattress.

“Well…” I hear him scratch something. “We were pretty cautious after that. For a while. But then we fell back into our rhythm.”

He’s right. It was probably two months of slowhump…hump…hump.But it’s the dead of night, and I actually want to sleep and not toss and turn with thought of any humping.

“Do you have a point, Landon?”

“I just thought it was interesting.”

“Hmm…” I’m so tired. Lack of rest and too much work equals automatic sleep. I curl into the sheets, ignoring the cold and the bizarre “slip” question, and start to drift away. Landon’s breathing turns heavy and sleepy not ten minutes in.

I’m cold. November’s temperature is quickly dropping, and nights are the worst because Landon’s next to me, warm and comforting, and he’s even warmer when his shirt rises above his abs and I can press against his skin. So I turn around in the bed and give him the butt. Landon’s hand plops on my hip. Funny…I thought he finally fell asleep. And I don’t have the energy to push it off, so I let him keep it there.

Then it moves to my stomach and pulls me flush against him.

“Mmmm…” I involuntarily moan. He presses a kiss under my ear.

“I love you,” he whispers, and it sends chills up and down my entire body, making me shiver against him in a way that makes him want to spin me around. He kisses me hard, then soft, then hard again. He’s warm. So warm. I feel a sweat coming on as he lifts on his arms and rains kisses up and down, down and up, all over my neck and chest. I arch my back, wanting to press against him, feel his heat and my heat and our heat.

“Landon…” I whimper, nearly at the point of begging. This is torture. He’s revving me up, only to leave me dry.

“I’m not teasing you, Tumbles,” he says, and when I open my eyes I see that he means it.

“You’re…you’re going to…”

His hand rakes up my ribs and purposely rests on my breast. There’s the slightest smile in the corner of his mouth, and I let out a deep groan as he massages my nipple, pulls and tweaks and sends hyperactive beads to Miss Liz. She’s swimming in Chocolateville, waving a plane ticket to the Bahamas. We have won! And I didn’t even have to pretend to work out this time.

Landon reaches up with his other hand so neither breast is forgotten. His lips capture mine, swallowing my moans. I start rocking my hips, needing relief, but I can’t quite get it enough to satisfy. I rub harder, push harder, but it’s not working.

“Landon…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I need…I want you to…”

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