Love to Love Her YAC (26 page)

Guess not. Sleep tight, Rhiannon. See you
tomorrow.

The day could not possibly have dragged by
any slower. By the time I finished with my last class of the day,
my feet were dragging from exhaustion, and I was overwhelmed by the
amount of work I have to make up from being gone. The only thing
that kept me going was the occasional text message from Blake.
He’ll be here any time now, and he’s planning to sleep over.

I’ve already changed into my nightgown, a
simple purple cotton tank dress. I gaze out the window as I brush
my teeth; a light drizzle fell off and on the entire day, but now
it’s switched to a full-out downpour. I think about Blake being
caught out in the cold rain, and it makes me shiver as I think how
grateful I am to be warm and dry.

When he knocks on the door at a quarter till
ten, I’ve just finished mixing him a mug of hot chocolate. My heart
takes off at triple speed as I go to the door. Blake stands on the
other side, completely drenched. His cheeks are ruddy, his lips
chapped red from the cutting wind, and his hair hangs in wet curls
around his face. His rain-soaked t-shirt adheres to every muscle in
his chest and abdomen – he looks utterly delectable. I stare as a
drop of water runs down his nose and drips from the end.

His lips form into a half-smile. “Mind if I
come in?” he asks before looking pointedly down at the puddle
forming at his feet.

Flustered, I scoot away from the door and
allow him the space to enter. As soon as the door swings shut
behind him, Blake wraps his cold hands around my upper arms and
pulls me to him. He stops me just a breath away from his soggy
torso in an attempt to keep me dry and crashes his lips against
mine. Slowly his hands ghost up the sides of my arms, across my
shoulder blades and around the back of my neck, where they curl in
the hair at my nape. I can feel the heat pouring from him; the need
to have him nearer is indescribable, but I resist. Gently I push
him backward, and his lips break away as he stumbles slightly on
the slick linoleum.

A wicked smile lurks on his face as he takes
another step backward and his eyes sweep downward from my face to
my thinly clad body, now a bit damp from his hands. Without
removing his eyes from me he reaches down to pull off his
boots.

“Let me get you a towel,” I murmur before
scampering off to collect my wits.

When I return to the entryway he’s removed
his jacket and is in the process of stripping off his sodden
t-shirt. I lean against the counter, not bothering to conceal the
fact I can’t look away from this gratuitous display of his taut
physique.

“Are you going to strip right here in my
kitchen?” I ask as I toss him the towel. He snatches it from the
air and begins rubbing his wet locks. A moment later, with the
towel draped around his neck, he offers me another seductive grin
before leaning over to remove his socks.

“I’m instituting a new rule. I can’t be in
more clothing than you, and vice versa.” He nods toward my
nightgown as I study his abs and the curve of his hip bones, the
light trail of hair leading south from his navel. The elastic band
of his boxers is visible above the waist of his jeans…
Boy needs
to learn to wear a belt
, I think to myself, although really I
find his lack of belt outrageously enticing.

I smirk at him as I walk around the kitchen
island to slide him his mug of cocoa. “For you,” I tell him. “I
figured you’d be cold.”

He lifts the cup and takes a whiff of the
chocolate-scented steam curling from the brim. “Just when I thought
you couldn’t get any more perfect,” he says before taking a sip.
“Mmm, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I watch as he drains the
entire mug in a matter of seconds, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and
down as he swallows, reveling in the feel of the hot liquid as it
scorches down his throat. He sets down the mug and reaches his arms
overhead, stretching as he lets out a yawn.

“Tired?” I ask.

“God yes. It’s been a long day,” he says. His
eyelids are half lowered, whether from desire or fatigue I can’t
tell. Perhaps it’s some of both. He saunters over to me and hugs me
against his chest as I squeeze my arms around his middle. “Why are
you standing clear over here?” he asks.

“No reason,” I whisper into his neck before
kissing the hollow at the base of his throat. I pull back a couple
of inches so I can see his face. “Come on, sleepy boy, let’s get
you to bed.” I extract myself from his grip and intertwine my
fingers with his while tugging him gently toward my bedroom.

I settle myself across the foot of the bed,
my back against the wall and my legs stretched out in front of me.
Blake collapses onto the mattress and lays his head in my lap. He
encircles my waist with his arms as he buries his face in my
stomach. “I like your nightie,” he mumbles as he nestles closer. We
stay this way for several minutes as I run my fingernails through
his damp hair and over his scalp. He moans softly but then falls
silent.

I pause. “Blake?” I whisper. “Are you
asleep?”

For a moment I think he must be, but then he
stirs and rolls onto his side, gazing up at me from beneath his
long, dark eyelashes. “I can’t sleep until you sing me a song,” he
says softly, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

I chuckle as I roll my eyes. “You want me to
sing to you?”

“And play your guitar,” he confirms. “I still
haven’t heard you play.”

“Well aren’t we demanding,” I mutter. I look
down at him to find his eyes haven’t moved from my face and his
teasing grin has been replaced by an inscrutable look of sincerity.
“Are you being serious?” I ask weakly.

“Perfectly. You owe me one, remember? I
serenaded you.”

I narrow my eyes at him doubtfully. “That
doesn’t count. You claimed you were ‘just singing.’”

“You had to have known I was lying,” he says
huskily, drawing the back of his hand down the side of my breast
before letting it settle back at my waist. “It was all for you,” he
rasps, looking at me like he’s stripping me naked with his
eyes.

I smile as I remove his arms from around my
waist and lean to the left to wrest my Taylor acoustic from its
stand in the corner. Blake pulls himself to an upright position,
excitement burning in his green eyes. He bends to drop a kiss on my
shoulder as I slide the guitar strap over my head and cradle the
instrument across my body.

“What do you want me to sing?”

He squints and rubs the light stubble on his
chin as he considers my question. “Do you know any Iron Maiden?” he
asks finally. The playful gleam in his eyes belies the solemnity in
his voice.

I snort. “Not exactly. Does Iron Maiden put
you to sleep?”

“Sometimes?” he replies, a full-fledged grin
spreading across his face.

“Well, tonight I’m afraid you’ll have to
choose from a selection of sappy love ballads.”

“Oh, the sappier the better,” he says quietly
as he brushes his lips across my collarbone, leaving a trail of
goose bumps in his wake.

I clear my throat, already able to tell he’s
going to make it exceedingly difficult to keep my voice steady.
Slowly I begin to strum on the guitar, getting a feel for the
strings as I pick over them with my calloused fingers. “Okay,
ready?” I ask. He nods, all humor vanished from his face.

I press the pads of my fingers against the
neck of the guitar and begin to pluck out a gentle melody. I play
through the first verse of the song I’ve been practicing, regaining
my familiarity with the chords before adding my voice.

I sing the first few bars, my voice
progressively gaining both strength and confidence as I reach the
end of the first stanza. Before launching into the chorus I
cautiously lift my eyes to look at Blake. He’s twisted around so
he’s positioned right in front of me, his hand on my thigh as he
looks at me in earnest. My gaze drops to his mouth as he drags his
bottom lip between his teeth, and my fingers falter slightly before
rushing to recover. I narrow my eyes back down at my guitar, and my
hair falls forward around my face, obstructing my view of his
distracting good looks.

Midway through the song my voice trails off,
and I pluck the strings more softly, allowing the vibrations to
melt away into silence. It takes me half a minute to work up the
courage to glance back up at Blake, but when I do I’m rewarded with
a radiant smile that warms me to the bone. He reaches up to brush
his finger against my cheek. “That was amazing,” he whispers.

“Thanks. It’s a work in progress,” I say as I
lift the strap back over my head. “That’s as far as I’ve
gotten.”

“Did you write it?”

I smile as I shake my head. “I wish. It’s
Drew Holcomb and the Neighbors.”

Slowly he nods, his grin still evident in the
flash of silver that streaks through his eyes. I replace the guitar
in its stand as Blake reclines against the pillows at the head of
the bed. He holds his arms out as I crawl forward to cover his body
with mine, and he gathers me tightly against him. “I’m spoiled
now,” he says into my hair. “I’ll never know a good night’s sleep
again without hearing you sing first.”

I chuckle. “You have many restless nights
ahead of you then, my friend.”

We lie in silence for a few minutes, but a
constant stream of very loud thoughts continues to speed through my
head. Lying here wrapped up in Blake’s arms, without having to feel
the least bit guilty about it, is…surreal. I want to pinch myself
to be sure I’m not dreaming.

Just as I wonder for the second time tonight
whether he’s fallen asleep, Blake whispers my name. I lift my chin
to look at him in response and admire the way the moonlight streaks
across his naked upper body. He gazes at me and touches my lips
with his fingers before palming the back of my head and gently
guiding me downward toward his mouth. He kisses me slowly, sucking
tenderly on my lower lip before dipping his tongue into my mouth.
His hands clutch at my back, my shoulders, my arms, my waist. He
slides his fingers up and down my body, causing my skin to tingle
and my head to spin.

I shift to trail kisses down his cheek to his
jaw, but he arrests my face between his hands before dropping them
to my shoulders and giving them a gentle push. I sit up, straddling
his lap, and he grabs the hem of my nightgown and pulls it up and
over my head. He inhales sharply as he looks at me perched nearly
naked above him, but instead of touching me the way I expect him
to, he lurches forward and grabs my face again, kissing me
greedily. He continues to press passionate kisses around my mouth
and across my cheek, flattening his face against mine. Only then do
his hands begin to wander, smoothing down my shoulders and
clutching softly at my breasts. He kneads them, rubbing his thumbs
across my erect nipples as his tongue licks a path up my neck to
the tender spot behind my ear. I smile a little when I realize my
heavy breathing is in rhythm with his.

Blake lowers himself back onto the mattress,
pulling me down with him. “I love to feel your bare skin,” he
whispers in my ear. “So soft... So beautiful…”

We move against one another, our bodies
perfectly in sync. I can feel the swollen length of him pressed
against my leg through his still-damp jeans, and I work myself free
of my panties before liberating him from the confines of his pants.
I wrap my hand around his thick base before allowing him to consume
my mouth again.

“Rhiannon,” he says against my lips. He pulls
back a fraction of an inch, then presses his face against the side
of my head, whispering just above my ear. “I want to make love to
you.”

I feel silly – his words nearly bring tears
to my eyes. I’m overcome with the realization he wants us to slow
down and savor each other – not just, well,
fuck
like we did
in my parents’ driveway. I can only nod in agreement before he
fluidly reverses our positions, cradling my back as he lays me
against the sheets and lowers himself on top of me. He reaches
between us, taking the shaft of his erection in his hand and
guiding it to my opening. He strokes the head against my wet folds,
up and down, but doesn’t push the rest of the way in – not yet.

“There’s a condom in my wallet,” he says
lowly, still poised to enter me. “Back pocket of my pants.”

Goddamn
I need to get on the pill. I
almost forgot about the stupid condom. Good thing
one
of us
is a responsible adult. I twist and dangle over the side of the bed
as I fish out the condom in Blake’s wallet. I wait while he rolls
it on with practiced fingers, then gasp as he resumes his position
above me and eases in just the tip.

A whimper escapes me as I dig my fingers into
his biceps, needing him to speed up and slow down all at the same
time. Finally he touches his forehead against mine and slides
inside me. He squeezes his eyes shut, and a shudder rocks through
him as he penetrates my core. He pushes in to the hilt, then
freezes, his hips in line with my own. His breathing is ragged as
he kisses me and flicks his tongue over my lips. “I can’t believe
how incredible you feel,” he breathes against my neck. “God,
Rhiannon.”

I raise up on my elbows and watch as he
begins to thrust slowly in and out. “Ohhhh…Blake,” I moan as my
head falls back and the ceiling swirls above me. Blake brings his
hand around to the back of my head and buries his face in the nook
between my neck and shoulder. I wrap my legs more tightly around
his waist when I realize he’s trembling, moving my hips in concert
with his.

After several glorious minutes of our
synchronized rocking, he grabs hold of me to still me against him.
“Hold on,” he pants. “Just wait… I don’t want to come yet.”

His words turn me on even more, and I want to
start moving again, but I manage to exercise some restraint,
determined to heed his request. Instead I just hold him against me,
drawing my fingernails lightly up his back as he continues to
ever-so-subtly shiver.