Page 23 of Claiming Ours
Fear of letting myself fall for someone again, giving away what was left of my heart. That thought was terrifying. There was also the dread of his rejection, of me not being enough, and of allowing this feeling welling in my chest to swallow me whole, forever changing me.
After last night’s drunken confessions, acting like an idiot, and Liam still being here this morning taking care of me, wanting me despite my actions and words, I was done being afraid. Tired of running from…
Actually living and not just surviving.
This wasn’t a switch that had flipped, cutting off the trauma that held me back before. This healing process was a winding road that would be filled with setbacks and mountains to climb. And that was okay because I knew, after yesterday with my friends and this morning with him, I had company on the difficult journey.
It might be a long road, but I wasn’t walking it alone.
8
LIAM
The soft brush of her fingertips caressing along my jaw and throat sent heat surging through my veins. My lids fluttered closed as I inhaled deeply, hoping it would help strengthen my fraying restraint. After her dirty revelations and analogies of wanting to lick me like a piece of candy, I was left with the worst case of blue balls. Which meant I was keyed the fuck up, and her simple yet intimate-as-hell touch pushed me toward my breaking point. If she wasn’t careful, Baylee would find those wrinkled scrub pants ripped off, her chest sealed to the counter, and my dick buried balls-deep in her virgin cunt.
Fuck.
I swallowed down the desperate groan that thought alone had rumbling in my chest.
I never gave a shit about a woman’s sexual past—fuck knew I didn’t want anyone judging me because of mine—but knowing her tight little pussy had never been stretched wide with a cock, that it was no doubt soft and snug, almost had me coming in my damn jeans.
Fingers gripping the counter until every knuckle went white in an effort to keep from grabbing Baylee and playing out all the dirty fantasies I’d imagined over the last few weeks, I leaned into her touch, savoring the scrape of her short nails through my rough facial hair.
“What are you doing, Little Bit?” I somehow got out around gritted teeth.
A mischievous gleam flashed in her big blue eyes, making my cock twitch uncomfortably. A single finger changed course to trace along my lower lip in soft strokes. Back and forth with her gaze locked with mine, that tempting motion unraveled me faster than I could fight back the temptation.
Unable to stop, I dipped my chin so that a single digit slipped between my parted lips, then nipped at the tip before licking away the slight bite.
Her soft gasp only spurred me on.
Gripping her delicate wrist in a firm but tender hold, I guided her finger free. “What do you want, Baylee?” I asked while directing that slick digit to her own mouth and pushing it inside to the second knuckle.
Seeing her lips wrap around her finger, cheeks hollowing as she sucked, I fucking snapped. Releasing my hold, I gripped her narrow waist and hauled her up onto the counter, pushing her knees wide so I could step between them. Palms to her soft cheek, I cupped her face, angling it higher until glassy blue eyes met mine. “I’m a strong man, Baylee, but even I have a limit to my restraint. I refuse to hurt you by pushing you too fast, further than you’re comfortable.”
I sealed my lips to hers, sucking on the soft, plump flesh and taking a quick nip before pulling back and standing tall. “I don’t trust myself with you right now, so I’m going to go before I do, fuck, all the erotic fantasies I’ve fucked my hand to lately that you’re not ready for.”
Forcing myself to turn, I ripped off the apron, tossing it onto the island, and took one reluctant stride away from the ultimate temptation—only to pause at the feel of a tiny hand gripping my forearm. I squeezed my lids shut, nostrils flaring with a deep inhale, before I looked over my shoulder at the little temptress who had no idea what demanding beast she was teasing to the surface.
“Don’t go,” she murmured, a slight plea in her tone. “I don’t want you to leave just yet.”
Blowing out a controlled breath through pursed lips, I gave in to her request despite my better judgment. Her small hand slid to my wrist when I turned to face her, this time keeping some distance between us for my sanity.
I wouldn’t hurt Baylee—hell, I wouldn’t hurt any woman—but I was afraid the need pumping through my veins would make me hear meaning in her words that maybe wasn’t there. That was the last thing I wanted, to think she wanted me to fuck her against the counter when she only wanted company, not her pussy stretched around my thick cock….
Fuck.
Face tipped to the ceiling, I forced those thoughts to the back of my mind to deal with later when I was alone in the shower.
“Little Bit.” Her pet name was more of a pained hiss than words. “If you don’t want this to go any further than me hanging out so you’re not alone, then?—”
“What if I don’t?” she said, cutting me off. Pressing her small feet to the floor, she moved forward until she stood right in front of me, looking up with those innocent blue eyes. I swallowed a groan as my cock hardened to the point of actual pain. “What if I want it to be more than just hanging out?”
Two cold palms pressed to my bare stomach, exposed by the unbuttoned shirt I’d tossed on earlier. My abs flexed at the gentle caress, breath hitching as she slid her hands higher,exploring my chest all while never looking away from my heated stare.
“You need to be specific on what ‘more’ means to you, Baylee.” I swallowed hard. “Veryspecific.”
“I don’t know how to be brave, to talk about this without alcohol,” she admitted, blush staining her fair cheeks. The tip of her tongue swiped along her lower lip. “Be patient with me, okay?”
