Page 24

CHAPTER 23

LIZZY

YOU’RE EVERYWHERE

I pry myself out of bed, thankful that I get to work from home - well, Clay’s house - today. I’m tired and groggy after barely sleeping last night. I’ve slept great here every night until last night. Something about the way Clay was distant and just took off for bed didn’t feel right. It seemed like we were starting to genuinely enjoy each other's company. Was it something I did?

No playful comebacks, no flirting, not even a scowl or an eye roll. Just night and walking off to bed.

We even talked about the other night. We said we could be adults and be friends. I like our friendship or whatever we’re going to call it. He’s one of the few people I’ve ever felt good about opening up to. It felt like I was being worshipped for being me for a change. And he takes it and runs with it, pushing back and playing with me. And those things he said in bed, I’ve never been praised like that.

But to just slink away like he did last night? He was so different last night. Not the moody, cocky, asshole Clay I first met. And not the fun, almost sweet one I’ve started to see. He wasn’t him.

Whatever it was, I hope it was just him in a mood and not how he’s going to be going forward. Because the one that saw me the other night, I want more of that Clay in my life.

After changing out of my pajamas into some yoga clothes for some morning stretching, I open the door, nearly tripping on a sleeping Ani, curled into a ball at the foot of my door.

“Oh! Hey, bud.” He stirs and wags his tail, following me to the kitchen. “Let’s go find your dad.”

Heading down the hall, I peak into the office .

No Clay, but I see something sitting on the floor. I groan, irritated that Clay’s already rubbing off on me this much. I walk over to the desk, grabbing the paper off the floor and putting it back on the desk.

See, Clay? I can be neat and tidy too.

I set it back down, noticing that it’s my scribbled notes about the invoices he asked me to look into. He wasn’t wrong to ask. It is weird. Which is funny, because that’s what’s written in his beautiful, cursive script underneath my note. That’s weird, right?

It seems like they only get these consultant’s invoices on projects that were completed under budget. You’d think they’d use them on all their projects and throughout the scheduled work, not just at the end. I’ll definitely talk to him about this more later, but right now, I want coffee.

I set the note down, putting a paperweight on it so it doesn’t end up on the floor again. You’re welcome, Clay.

When I make it to the kitchen, there’s no sign of him to be found, which is weird because this is when we’d normally start our yoga workout. I head to the coffee maker. I start a pot and grab my mug, noticing a note on the kitchen island.

No yoga today. Headed in early and staying late. Working on your condo. We’ll get you back in ASAP.

Somehow, that hurts a little. Is he already that tired and irritated with me and wants me gone? Or can he not handle being friends any more?

I crumple up the note, throwing it in the trash. I’m stronger than that. I don’t need to worry about what he thinks. I’m not letting someone else define me anymore. That is the post Tour de Lizzy motto. I’m always me and no one is going to make me feel bad about that .

After finishing my coffee, I do my yoga with Ani next to me on his bed. “You can be my accountability buddy if your dad’s going to be a jerk and avoid me.”

He huffs and seems to sink deeper into his bed. Maybe it’s just me, but I think he looks stylish and comfortable in his new sweater. I watch as he yawns and drifts back to sleep.

“You’re lucky. I wish I could go back to bed.”

Except I find myself thinking that I probably won’t get much sleep if I keep thinking about a certain, tall, handsome, confusing man.

My drive home from work on Wednesday is a blur. The plant manager got in my face today, making a snide, condescending remark after I questioned him on a few issues with their shift schedules and vendor preferences. I’ve heard them all.

Doll, honey, sweetheart.

Just relax. Calm down. Smile more.

I’ve been doing this since you were in diapers.

Nothing they would ever say to a man. Never mind that I’m there to clean up their mess. Never mind that I’m right.

As Jessica would say, I went Full Lizzy and put him in his place.

But between that and the way my roommate and friend has been a ghost the last few days I’m already on edge. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough at the end of the day.

When I walk into the house from the garage, to my surprise, Clay is sitting at the counter looking at something on his laptop. He’s already wearing his glasses. I have to admit that the rough, muscular, tattooed man with the heavy, dark rimmed glasses is a look . If I wasn’t so pissed off at him right now, I’d probably just stand here and enjoy the view. But not today.

As soon as he sees me, he starts to get up, presumably to go to his office and continue to pretend I don’t exist.

“Oh no, no way, Clay!” I stomp towards him, not bothering to hang my keys or take off my shoes. I throw my purse on the counter and get right into his face. “You’re not going to keep doing this.”

He looks irritated. I still don’t get it! I know he said it wouldn’t happen again and that’s fine. But we were being genuinely friendly before that. I enjoy being around him. I want that back. He owes me an answer on why we can’t be like that again. I know that night was so intimate, so deep and sexual. But I still want that connection, even without the physical part.

“Doing what?” he says, looking equally confused and startled.

I step towards him, poking him in the chest, that hard, muscular chest. “Acting weird since the other night after we said we’re good. Pretending that I don’t exist. Ignoring me.”

“You think I’m ignoring you?” His voice is a low growl. He steps towards me and towers over me, crowding my space. “You think I could ever ignore you, princess?”

My hand falls. I try to step away and give myself space, but I back up against the kitchen island.

“You’ve been acting like it ever since that night. You’re almost acting like you did right after Roxy’s.” I stare into his eyes and they’re so intense, so focused on me I can feel my skin heat and flush. My mouth goes dry and I lick my lower lip. His nostrils flare and his eyes track the movement.

“You’re everywhere , Lizzy.” He steps towards me and I have to put my elbows on the marble island to prop myself up. “You’re in my house.” He leans forward and puts a hand on the island next to mine. “You’re in my thoughts. You’re in my dreams.” He takes his other hand and tilts my chin up towards him, forcing me to maintain this insane level of eye contact that I feel in my core. “I couldn’t ignore you even if I wanted to. You’re all I can think about. All the damn time.”

I watch as his chest heaves and a muscle ticks in his jaw. “That’s not how it feels. You’re acting like you can’t bear to be around me - like I’m such a burden to you and you want me back at my condo,” I say, not flinching from his presence. I swear it looks like a vein in his neck under that beautiful rose tattoo is going to pop and I can hear his heart pounding. The look on his face is pure torment, like my words pained him.

“You’re not a burden. You’re anything but a burden. I thought I made it very clear what I think about you. I showed you.” One side of his lips quirk into a hint of smile, showing off the dimple on that side. If I wasn’t already so flushed and worked up, I can’t imagine the shade of red my cheeks would turn from the thought of that night .

“You have an awfully funny way of showing someone they’re not a burden. Maybe you could remind me what you think of me?” I say with a shaky, muted voice. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I expected to happen by getting in his face and poking the bear, the literal bear I know is tattooed on his chest.

He exhales a long, frustrated sigh. “Can we not? I’m not used to having people in my space all the time. I’m not used to new people in my life. I don’t handle distractions well.”

Distractions? Am I a distraction to him? That thought washes away when I breathe in, his leather and cedar scent reminding me of falling asleep in his arms. I stand tall, looking right at him. He’s not going to ignore me. He’s going to tell me what’s wrong, whether he wants to or not. I am not stepping down.

“Why don’t you like people in your space?” I look towards my hand on the counter and see my keys and grin. “Because they’ll do something like this?” I flick my wrist and bat the keys on to the floor. My grin grows watching him track the motion and flinch at the sound of them hitting the floor.

“You really do want to make me snap, don’t you?” he snarls.

“Why? What would that look like?” I tease, pleased at the response I’m getting. He doesn’t say a word. He just continues to stare into my soul with those eerily hardened emerald eyes. I look at my other hand and see my phone sitting there. I flick my wrist and watch him finally come undone when my phone hits the ground and slides across the floor.

He closes the final inches between us, pressing himself against me. I can feel the warmth of his muscular body as he leans over me, pushing my back against the island. “What the fuck do you want, Lizzy?”

I raise one hand, cupping his cheek, relishing the feeling of his stubble against my soft hand, remembering what it felt like between my thighs. I lean towards him, bringing my lips to his ear, feeling that stubble against my cheek, and whisper. “ You. ” I run my finger over the open neckline of his henley and down his sternum and muscular chest.

The intense, focused look explodes into something different, something scorching and animalistic. It’s like that evergreen forest in his eyes ignites into a raging wildfire I can feel like a brand on my skin.

“Fuck it.” His voice is raw and gravelly.

He moves in a flurry, grabbing me by my hips and lifting me onto the counter like a rag doll, bringing me eye to eye with him. I wrap my hands around the back of his neck, startled by his strength. He cups the back of my neck and fists my ponytail, pulling my head back and baring my neck to him. His mouth crashes to mine and his other hand roams my body, pulling us closer.

I moan into his mouth, feeling my chest rise and fall. His mouth is taking, his tongue gliding along mine. He tugs my ponytail, sending a shiver through my scalp, pulling me back from him. He looks deep into my eyes. There’s a question, a hesitation in his eyes to go with that hunger. “Is this what you want?”

If he only knew. Everything with us is always so charged, so heated, and moves so fast. But it feels so right, so easy. I wrap my legs around him pulling him between them. His eyes dart to the hemline of my sweater dress when it rides up my thighs. I can feel the bulge in his jeans pressed against my aching core through my tights. I look into those smoldering eyes. “Shut up and fuck me, Clay. You’re ruining it. ”

That wicked grin of his morphs into something feral and devious. “I have condoms in the bedroom.”

“I’m clean and have an IUD.” I squeeze my calves around his muscular ass, pulling him closer. “So if you’re ok with it, I want to feel you inside me.”

He leans forward, bringing his lips to my ear and I relish in the feeling of his stubble against my cheek. “Good, I’m clean too.” His voice is low and raspy, building anticipation in me. “I know how wet you get for me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how good you taste, so I want to feel your tight pussy on my cock.” He nips my ear and I arch into him. I feel his rough hands run up my tights, pulling them down one leg at a time. He pushes up the hemline of my sweater dress, looking down between us.

“Goddamn, this fucking pussy.” He licks his lips and puts one hand on my chest, pushing me back onto the island. “Lay back.”

“You know I’m already wet enough for you.” I tease, playfully tapping his ass with my feet, loving the sight of this imposing man standing over me, between my legs.

He runs one finger over my wet core, bringing it to his lips. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t dreaming about how good you taste.”

He closes his eyes, licking his finger, humming a low moan. When he opens his eyes, that devious grin is back. I watch as he pulls a bar stool over and sits, right between my legs. “What happened to world class athlete?” I pout.

“Shut up, Lizzy.” He grabs my thighs and spreads them, kissing down each one before his mouth stops at the apex of my thighs. His eyes look up at me through his ruffled hair. I didn’t think I’d be seeing this again so soon. All I know is I definitely would never be tired of seeing this man between my legs. “Just a taste before I fuck you hard enough that you can’t walk straight. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that first night we met and you know how I feel about keeping promises.”

This time it’s my turn to grin back. “I’ve been meaning to remind you about that.” He rolls his eyes and buries his face in me. I’m instantly sure of one thing. Clay Chapman knows how to use his mouth. Talking, kissing, and eating me like I’m the last meal on earth on his kitchen island. His tongue has barely touched me and he already has me so worked up. Each lick, swirl, and nip, all start to build that coil of tension I can feel at the base of my spine. He slides one finger into me, pumping in motion with his tongue. “Fuck. Clay.” My words are a needy prayer and I feel myself clench around his finger. He groans in approval, only heightening the sensation.

“Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you soon enough.” He licks and sucks my clit and I feel myself barrel to that edge. I lay back, savoring every second of this. Until he stops and I hear the barstool slide back against the floor. I open my eyes and look up, only to see Clay look down at me with what I can only describe as animalistic intent. “Come here.” His voice is commanding and before I can even move, he grabs me by my hips and slides me off the counter, bringing me into his chest.

He cranes his neck, bringing his mouth down to mine, his tongue finding the back of my mouth. I moan into his, tasting my own arousal. “Why did you stop?”

“Because I know you’re ready to take this dick now.” He kisses me one more time before grabbing my hips, manhandling me with his big strong hands and spinning me around, splaying and pinning my hands out on the island in front of me in one motion. I hear him unzip his jeans and let them fall to the floor. He steps out of them and I push against that counter top, backing my ass into him, grinding against the bulge in his briefs. I’m so desperate for the friction, aching with want. I think deep down, I’ve wanted this every second since that night we met.

He must feel the same way because he grabs my hips, pulling me against him and I can feel him shudder. “Goddamnit. We’re really doing this?” he asks, excitement lacing his low voice.

“If you don’t hurry up, I’m going to start playing with myself. Now, shut up and fuck me.” I back my ass into him again.

I feel him drop his briefs before rubbing and tapping the head of his cock against my swollen clit.

“You’re something else.” His voice is rough and strained, but those words still hit me the same. I love hearing that from him, whether he knows it or not. I look down between my legs, just in time to watch him stroke his length before notching it at my entrance. I push back, wanting to feel him in me. But he stops me, grabbing my hips tight. “I’ll go slow. Let you get used to me.”

I look over my shoulder at him, rolling my eyes. “I swear if you don’t put that dick in me right now, I’ll-”

He cuts me off. “You’ll what? Do something bratty?” He gives my ass a light slap and I whimper.

“Yes. Exactly. Like remember that I was pissed off at you five minutes ago.” With that, he eases into me, slowly, but surely in one devastating thrust, forcing me to look forward. He’s thick and long, stretching and filling me, pain and pleasure rush through me. I bite my lip so hard I swear I can taste blood before moaning his name.

“Jesus, fuck, Lizzy,” Clay growls through gritted teeth. I look back over my shoulder and take in the sight of him behind me, digging his hands into my hips. “You’re so fucking tight. Your pussy looks so good stretched around my cock.” His eyes lock on to mine and the ravenous, desperate look of him finally letting go unleashes something in me. I arch my back and push my ass back into him again and again. I smirk when he shudders and I whimper at the sensation of him bottoming out in me.

The way he stretches and fills me is so overwhelming, so sinfully painful. I want to feel him for days afterwards. He digs his fingers in harder and I know it’s going to leave a bruise. He starts thrusting. Slow, but hard and punishing. I drop my head onto the cold marble counter and whimper. “Tell me how good I feel.” My voice is a breathy, teasing plea. I want him to let go. I want to see him, this side of him.

“Is that what you need?” His voice is raspy and husky in a way that sends shivers of want through me. “You need me to tell you how perfect this pussy is, how perfect you are? That’s going to get you off?” He thrusts hard into me again and I moan into the crook of my elbow, savoring the sensation of him.

I look back at him, grinning and nodding. “Yes. Tell me.”

He thrusts harder and faster, flicking his eyebrows at me with a lust filled smile, baring his teeth. “You already know it’s perfect, princess.”

I always knew I had a praise kink, but hearing things like that from him confirms it. I want to hear it from him. Always.

The way I don’t have to tone myself down or hide from him is so freeing. I turn and bury my face back into my elbow, enjoying him pounding into me relentlessly.

“Spread them,” he growls at me, stopping for a moment. Before I can even ask what he means, he kicks my feet apart, spreading my legs. “Now play with your clit, princess.”

I look over my shoulder at him, intoxicated by the lust in his eyes, loving the sight of his tattooed hands on my hips. I see my purse next to me on the counter and smile back at him. He arches a questioning eyebrow and tracks my arm when I stretch it out and knock my purse onto the floor, spilling the contents. “ Make me. ”

His nostrils flare and he pulls me hard by my hips into him. He grabs my hand that I knocked the purse off with and laces his fingers through mine before bringing it between my legs. “Brat,” he snarls, before teasing my clit with our woven fingers.

My eyes roll back into my head. I love the way he manhandles me. I look between my legs at our fingers, watching them push me closer and closer to the edge. A giggle escapes my lips between whimpers when I see the letters tattooed on his knuckles.

“Did you pick that hand on purpose?”

He doesn’t stop fucking me, but I watch as he looks at his other hand on my hip. The grin that takes over his face is perfect, showing those dimples.