Page 98
Story: Because of Liam
Chapter Sixty-Two
“I loveto make you come. I love the sounds you make and how your skin heats up under my touch. I love the look of pleasure on your face and how your eyes go darker with lust. But more than anything else, I love that I’m the one doing this to you.”
Her lips part, but no words are said. Even without them, I can still read all the questions and doubts in her mind. She’s wondering if this thing we have between us is more than lust and like, if it’s more than friction and heat, if it’s more than either one of us is willing to admit right now.
I won’t say the words outright, but I can say everything else and show her. We’re not ready for more right now, but I hope we will be soon.
She says nothing still. Instead, her fingers tread through my too long hair and she pulls me to her and kisses me with such tenderness and love, it makes me feel like I can melt into her, like we can fuse together into a single symbiotic being.
We stay in that kiss, in that embrace, in the light touch of lips and mingled breathes until the crunch of tires on gravel tell us we have company. I disengage and lie next to her, a few inches between our bodies now, a wall of modesty for public eyes growing between us.
I cross my arms behind my head and glance at River. She closes her eyes, nestles further into the blanket and pillow, and lifts her face to the sun, drinking in the moment of peace and contentment. I follow her lead and do the same.
A couple of minutes later I hear steps and a gravelly voice.
“Good morning, folks.”
I open my eyes and a park ranger stands by the tailgate of the truck, arms crossed over his chest. I come up on my elbows.
“Good morning, Officer.”
“What are you kids up to?”
I look at River, who for all accounts looks like is deep into a nap. But I know better. She’s letting me take the heat for this one.
“Just enjoying the beautiful day, sir. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”
He eyes us, making sure nothing nefarious is happening.
“Is she okay?” the park ranger asks.
I nudge River and her eyes flutter and open. She blinks a couple of times. Then casually glances toward the ranger and looks surprised.
“Oh, I guess I fell asleep.” She sits up and stretches, pushing her chest out, and bestows the ranger with a smile that could melt the polar caps.
Jesus!
I know she’s beautiful. I’m not blind to that. But River has never, not once used her looks and that smile on me. She’s putting a show for this guy and that tells me how much she’s aware of her appearance and how much she goes out of her way to tone it down when most girls would probably be flaunting their looks.
The ranger’s cheeks go red and he stammers.
“Ok-okay, folks. Stay safe.” He touches his hat and tips it at us, turning away, but not before giving me a look that says, lucky bastard. I grin at him like an idiot. Yes, I am.
* * *
It’s beenfive weeks since we officially moved in together. It’s been fine, but it’s also been a little odd. River is not herself. I can tell she’s holding back and treading carefully, trying to still be with me but at the same time not giving in and completely relaxing into this living arrangement. She’s keeping her guard up. I gave her time to get used to the idea of me being here. But I’m afraid she’s still worried about what all of this means. I haven’t brought up moving out and to be honest I don’t want to move out. I like this. I like hanging out with her. I like us driving to school together, watching movies, helping each other study. And I like learning to cook. We both enjoy preparing meals together. We even ventured into trying new recipes and we’re getting really good at it.
I don’t want to wait any longer. I can’t wait any longer.
I glance at River. She’s lying on the couch, her feet on my lap, watching a cooking show on the TV. I pick up the remote and pause the show.
She looks at me, an eyebrow raised in question.
I take her in. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts and no pants. I love no-pants River. I love all of her versions.
“I want my River back,” I say and hold on to her feet in purple socks with unicorns all over them.
“You don’t have a River,” she challenges me.
“I loveto make you come. I love the sounds you make and how your skin heats up under my touch. I love the look of pleasure on your face and how your eyes go darker with lust. But more than anything else, I love that I’m the one doing this to you.”
Her lips part, but no words are said. Even without them, I can still read all the questions and doubts in her mind. She’s wondering if this thing we have between us is more than lust and like, if it’s more than friction and heat, if it’s more than either one of us is willing to admit right now.
I won’t say the words outright, but I can say everything else and show her. We’re not ready for more right now, but I hope we will be soon.
She says nothing still. Instead, her fingers tread through my too long hair and she pulls me to her and kisses me with such tenderness and love, it makes me feel like I can melt into her, like we can fuse together into a single symbiotic being.
We stay in that kiss, in that embrace, in the light touch of lips and mingled breathes until the crunch of tires on gravel tell us we have company. I disengage and lie next to her, a few inches between our bodies now, a wall of modesty for public eyes growing between us.
I cross my arms behind my head and glance at River. She closes her eyes, nestles further into the blanket and pillow, and lifts her face to the sun, drinking in the moment of peace and contentment. I follow her lead and do the same.
A couple of minutes later I hear steps and a gravelly voice.
“Good morning, folks.”
I open my eyes and a park ranger stands by the tailgate of the truck, arms crossed over his chest. I come up on my elbows.
“Good morning, Officer.”
“What are you kids up to?”
I look at River, who for all accounts looks like is deep into a nap. But I know better. She’s letting me take the heat for this one.
“Just enjoying the beautiful day, sir. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”
He eyes us, making sure nothing nefarious is happening.
“Is she okay?” the park ranger asks.
I nudge River and her eyes flutter and open. She blinks a couple of times. Then casually glances toward the ranger and looks surprised.
“Oh, I guess I fell asleep.” She sits up and stretches, pushing her chest out, and bestows the ranger with a smile that could melt the polar caps.
Jesus!
I know she’s beautiful. I’m not blind to that. But River has never, not once used her looks and that smile on me. She’s putting a show for this guy and that tells me how much she’s aware of her appearance and how much she goes out of her way to tone it down when most girls would probably be flaunting their looks.
The ranger’s cheeks go red and he stammers.
“Ok-okay, folks. Stay safe.” He touches his hat and tips it at us, turning away, but not before giving me a look that says, lucky bastard. I grin at him like an idiot. Yes, I am.
* * *
It’s beenfive weeks since we officially moved in together. It’s been fine, but it’s also been a little odd. River is not herself. I can tell she’s holding back and treading carefully, trying to still be with me but at the same time not giving in and completely relaxing into this living arrangement. She’s keeping her guard up. I gave her time to get used to the idea of me being here. But I’m afraid she’s still worried about what all of this means. I haven’t brought up moving out and to be honest I don’t want to move out. I like this. I like hanging out with her. I like us driving to school together, watching movies, helping each other study. And I like learning to cook. We both enjoy preparing meals together. We even ventured into trying new recipes and we’re getting really good at it.
I don’t want to wait any longer. I can’t wait any longer.
I glance at River. She’s lying on the couch, her feet on my lap, watching a cooking show on the TV. I pick up the remote and pause the show.
She looks at me, an eyebrow raised in question.
I take her in. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts and no pants. I love no-pants River. I love all of her versions.
“I want my River back,” I say and hold on to her feet in purple socks with unicorns all over them.
“You don’t have a River,” she challenges me.
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