Page 145

CLOSE ENCOUNTERS AND EVEN CLOSER CALLS

Lizzie

AUGUST 23, 2003

F UELED BY A LETHAL CONCOCTION OF ALCOHOL AND LUST, WE STUMBLED INTO THE house and found the first available room. Too drunk to care that it was a closet-sized washroom, I quickly turned the lock before pushing my boyfriend down on the closed toilet seat.

“Liz, baby—”

“Shh.” Straddling Hugh’s lap again, I greedily accepted his lips when they crashed against mine.

Shamelessly rocking my body against his, I ripped and tore at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin on mine. The pulsing shocks in my core when I rubbed myself on the hard bulge of his jeans sent me spiraling.

When Hugh reached behind me and loosened the knot holding my halter neck up, I moaned in approval and quickly tore at the buttons on his shirt to get him naked.

When the fabric of my halter pooled at my waist, his hands moved expertly to my breasts, caressing my flesh exactly how I liked. “Mm,” I encouraged when he rolled one of my nipples between his forefinger and thumb, while continuing to caress the other. It was too much. The sensations he drew from my body exceeded every one of the dirty dreams he starred in.

When he applied more pressure, squeezing me harder, I moaned into his mouth, encouraging him to keep touching me. “Don’t stop.”

My boyfriend obeyed my wishes, working my mouth and breasts over with his fingers and tongue, while he rocked his jean-clad erection into my crotch.

My breath caught when one of his hands trailed south and disappeared between my thighs. Thrilled I had taken Claire’s advice, I quickly reached for the skirt she’d convinced me to wear and hitched it up to pool at my waist. Desperate to give my boyfriend unfettered access to my body, I moved to push my thong aside, but he got there first.

“Fuck,” I cried out when I felt his fingers tracing my slit, teasing and probing me like he’d perfected this summer. “Please—”

“Shh.” Crushing his lips against mine once more, he gently pushed two fingers deep inside me and started to move. Giving my body time to acclimate to his welcome invasion, Hugh moved slowly at first, taking his time to work up to a wicked rhythm that threatened to send me over the edge.

Desperate to make him feel good, I clumsily reached for his jeans, ripping and tugging at the button and zip until he was free.

Holy shit.

He was big and thick and hard.

Lustful and in love, I fisted his thick length and tugged.

The move caused his fingers to falter and a delicious growl vibrated from his lips into mine.

Every flick of his wrist caused my body to jerk and shudder in pleasure as I rocked relentlessly into his hand, desperate to reach my breaking point.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, lips still on mine as he crooked his fingers and pushed deeper, faster, harder, and I worked him over with equal speed and intensity.

“Oh God,” I cried out, tearing my lips from his when my body got dangerously close to the edge. “Ugh…omigod…Hugh! Oh, holy fu—”

Hugh swallowed my cries with his mouth once more, wrapping his free arm around my waist to hold me in place while he finger-fucked me into oblivion.

I was going to come on his hand. I knew it. I could feel the familiar ripples of pleasure building up inside, threatening to crest and crash over me. He clearly knew this, he could obviously feel my body clenching him, and he upped the ante to a blistering level.

“I’m coming,” I cried against his lips. “I’m coming.” Eyelids fluttering, I kept my eyes locked on his as the wave of pleasure eclipsed life itself.

“Good,” he encouraged, growling against my lips.

“Jesus.” Bucking and jerking restlessly, I rode the wave shamelessly, taking from him what I needed—what he had so effortlessly given me.

“Please,” I begged, resuming my orgasm-disrupted hand job, while hitching myself up so that I was hovering over him. “Put it inside me.”

“This is so bad,” Hugh groaned, burying his face in my neck as he reached for his jeans and boxers and pushed them down his hips.

Breathing hard and ragged, I cast a glance downward and moaned when my eyes took in the glistening head of his thick length. His erection was long and thick and rigidly hard, and all I could think of was sitting on it, needing to feel him stretch my body to make him fit. Because I needed this boy to finally claim my body as his. That was the only way I could make it all go away. His touch was the only thing that could erase the monster’s.

“Condom,” Hugh whispered, against my mouth. “Need a condom.”

“No.” Shaking my head, I gripped him hard and lowered myself down, probing my lips with his thick head. “You don’t.”

Chest heaving, Hugh leaned back and released the sexiest male groan I’d ever heard. “Not without a condom.”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever.” Excited, I looked around wildly, drowning in anticipation. “Is there one in your wallet?”

“No,” he admitted, looking genuinely tortured. “I don’t have one.”

“It’s okay.” I was quick to soothe him, pumping his shaft with my fist. “You don’t need to wear one.”

“Liz, no.” A vein bulged in his neck, and he released another guttural groan, like his refusal caused him physical pain. “We can’t .”

“Hugh, no!” I practically cried, needing to feel him inside my body more than I needed to wake up in the morning. Because I would happily die right now if it meant that I died with him deep inside me. “Please!”

“I want to,” he groaned right back at me, still rocking into my touch. “But not without protecting you.” He slowly pulled his fingers out of me and looked up at me with a remorseful expression. “I’m sorry.”

Feeling equal parts devastated and aroused, I swallowed down my frustration, knowing that however bad it was for me, he was feeling it a million times more. Because he’d already scratched my itch, but I hadn’t thoroughly scratched his.

“It’s okay,” I soothed, leaning in close to press a kiss to the curve of his jaw. The move caused my bare breast to graze his chest, and he hissed out a moan.

Incentivized by the primal noises he made, I slid my fist up and down his length. He moaned softly and it caused everything inside of me to tighten back up.

He was in such a vulnerable position beneath me that I felt oddly powerful. Knowing that I was stirring this reaction from him was empowering.

Hugh had the capacity to physically dominate me at any given moment if he wanted to, like the monster had, and there would be nothing I could do to fight him off, just like there hadn’t been with the monster. This boy could take whatever he wanted from my body with force, and I felt secure in the knowledge he never would.

Hugh filled my cup up with the very things I had been drained of in my nightmares. Instead of inflicting pain, fear, and harm like the monster had, my boyfriend instilled power, trust, and respect inside of me.

“You like that, baby?” I asked softly, fisting the base of his thick shaft. “You like it when I touch you like this?”

His response was to close his eyes and nod weakly, while straining his hips into my touch. His tongue snaked out to trace his bottom lip and he gripped my ass as I worked him over. “Have me, baby.”

His words ignited a pulsing ache between my legs, and I quickened my pace, working him over at a merciless pace and reveling in every sexy, primal, male groan that escaped him.

When Hugh’s entire frame tensed beneath me, I knew he was on the edge. “It’s okay,” I praised, upping my pace when he tried to push my hand away. “Don’t be shy.” When he clenched his eyes shut, I licked and nuzzled his neck. “Let go for me.”

“Liz,” he strangled out, hips thrusting wildly. “I can’t hold it…”

“Don’t hold it,” I commanded, attention riveted to his impressive length. “Let go.”

And then I watched in fascination as the glistening head of his thick shaft twitched a couple of times before releasing a thick trail of cloudy, white liquid.

“Christ, I’m so sorry, Liz,” Hugh groaned, chest heaving, while his powerful body trembled beneath me. “I tried to hold it.”

I didn’t want him to stop it.

I wanted to watch him do it again.

Breathing hard, his gaze raked over me, and when he reached my midsection, he stifled a groan. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to get you with it.”

“There’s a lot of it,” I mused, glancing down at the mess between us. “You must have really wanted in me.”

“Jesus, Liz, please don’t say that,” he begged, and I looked down and quickly realized why. Mesmerized, I took in the sight of his now semi-hard shaft as it began to thicken and grow.

“Wow.”

“Ignore it.”

“You want more?” I rocked on his lap. “Me, too.”

“No.” Hugh sat straight up. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair was tousled from the force I’d been pulling on it with. “We can’t. Not here. Not when we’re both…” He paused to wave a hand between us. “We both know what’ll happen, and that is not how I want our first time to go.”

“How do you want it go?”

“In a bed, for a start,” he replied, pushing his hand through his thoroughly fucked hair. “You deserve a bed, not a bathroom.” And then, as if he just realized what he said, he looked around us and groaned. “I am never drinking those Frogs again.” Glum, he reached for the toilet paper hooked to the wall and ripped off a big heap. “I am so fucking sorry,” he continued to say, quickly setting to work on cleaning us up. “Shit, I got your top, too.” He shook his head and dabbed at the fabric between my legs. “I’m a disgrace, I tell ya. Honest to God, I shouldn’t be left outside the front door.”

“I had the best night,” I told him with a huge smile. “I don’t remember feeling this happy.” Ever . “I love you, Hugh.”

“I love you, too, Liz.”

“No, I mean I really love you,” I said, gripping his broad shoulders. “Heart and soul.” I smiled. “Body and mind.”

His head snapped up from where he had been focusing on cleaning the aftermath of his cum shot, and he looked me right in the eyes. “If anything was ever to happen to you, I wouldn’t be able to go on.”

His words were sobering and hit me like a sucker punch to the heart.

It was such an unexpected thing for him to say.

He was usually so logical and sensible.

“I’m fine,” I replied weakly, feeling a sudden rush of emotion wash over me. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“What I feel for you exceeds anything the realm of love could conjure up,” he told me, eyes full of something I couldn’t quite decipher in my drunken state.

“You have the best lines,” I purred, hooking an arm around his neck and smacking a playful, smooching kiss to his lips.

“It’s good to know my intolerance to vodka stimulates you,” he slurred. “However, I need you to climb off my lap, so I can put this overstimulated bastard back in his place.”

“Between my legs?”

“Not helping, Liz. Not helping.”

Breathing hard, he dropped his head to rest on my chest. “What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t, and I loved it.”

“No, Liz.” He shook his head and groaned. “I was two seconds away from fucking you in a toilet.” He looked full of drunken remorse. “I am so sorry.”

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to scream at him to not be sorry and to just keep going, but the look in his eyes assured me that, for tonight, our fun was over. His body was sending a direct message to mine, and his conscience needed to catch the hell on. This was good. This was exactly what we both wanted. I could feel myself slipping; I could feel my impatience taking over.

“Don’t regret me, Hugh,” I said quietly.

“Never,” he vowed, embracing me with tenderness. “You’re the only part of my life I can’t plan for.” He pressed a kiss to my lips. “And the only part I can’t live without.”