Page 30 of Soft Rebound (Mad City Moments #2)
Joe
I follow Liz in my car back to her apartment building. I’d never been to her place before.
I park next to her, get out and look around. I don’t know what her ex is driving, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he were here again, wanting to shoot his shot without me in attendance.
“I don’t see Jake’s truck,” she says as she joins me on the sidewalk. She’s worried about the same thing. “He drives a red GMC.”
“I’m afraid he could come back later tonight. Or tomorrow,” I say.
“He doesn’t know the apartment I’m in,” Liz says. “I still can’t believe Mom got my address from Bobby’s GPS history. I’m impressed, to be honest. Didn’t think she had it in her.”
“Still, you shouldn’t be here by yourself tonight. I’m happy to stay with you, make sure he doesn’t come back to bother you. But I get that you might not be comfortable with that, so maybe Bobby and Trey could come over? Or you could go stay at your cousin’s.”
“No need,” she says and pats my upper arm. “It would be great if you could stay with me.”
I swallow hard. “Of course. I mean, this is probably against the Slowness Accords. But I can sleep on the couch or wherever Bobby sleeps when he’s not at Trey’s.”
She smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”
****
L iz’s place is nice and tidy, if a little Spartan. She’s got a couple of scuffed wooden bar stools by the kitchen island, but no table in the dining area. In the living room, a fabric-covered couch, a small coffee table, and an old TV. There are no plants or personal touches.
“This is a nice place,” I say. “A little more sparse than I would expect.”
“None of the furniture is mine,” she says. “It belongs to the woman I’m subletting from.”
“Ah, yes. Your alter ego, Melanie.”
Liz smiles. “The one and only.”
“So what would you do differently if it were yours?”
“Oh, plenty. I mean, I’d buy different furniture, obviously. She doesn’t seem to care about form, only function. But I love color. There would be pastel leather armchairs, and decorative pillows, and art on the walls. Flowers on the kitchen island. Bowls of potpourri on the coffee table.”
“Is that how your old place looked? The one where you lived with Jake?” I am getting unreasonably annoyed at the thought. Everything about that guy makes me want to punch something.
Liz’s face pinches. “No. It wasn’t our place. It was his place. He didn’t like my”—she makes quotation marks with her fingers— “‘girly stuff.’”
That fucking guy. He really needs to have his nose bashed in. I’ve never been a violent guy, so this righteous anger churning in my gut is brand new and all Liz-related.
“You know, you could already do a lot of the stuff you just mentioned,” I say. “Throw pillows and flowers and potpourri. Maybe even some art on the walls. None of it is expensive or hard to remove once you decide to leave.”
She looks up at me and several moments pass before she speaks. “You’re right. I really should do that.”
She’s very close and almost sways toward me. I reach out and cup her cheek. She leans into it, but neither of us goes further.
Then Liz takes a step back. “Have you eaten?”
“Nope. I was going to make something when you texted.”
“I’m pretty hungry, too. Let’s eat. I’ve got tons of leftovers.”
She brings out lasagna and some chicken parm and something that looks like jambalaya.
I’m more than a little impressed. “Did you cook all this?” I ask.
“Yeah. I love to cook. I make a bunch over the weekend and usually have leftovers, especially if Bobby doesn’t eat anything.”
I help out with plating and microwaving, and soon we’re eating at the kitchen island.
“This is all amazing,” I say. “You’re a really good cook.”
She seems pleased, but then her face falls. “Today was my last day at Qpik,” she says. “The woman I used to substitute for should be coming back on Monday.”
I look down at my food. “I really liked being able to see you first thing in the morning,” I say. “I will miss that.”
“Me, too,” she says, sounding a little choked up. “Me, too.”
Our eyes meet. We both seem to be holding our breaths, as the tension between us mounts. Neither of us moves a muscle.
I clear my throat. “So, what’s next? Back to job hunting?”
“Yeah.”
“But you’re definitely staying here? In Madison?”
“Yeah, I think I am,” she says. “I really like the city, and now I’ve got friends, and my cousin.” She lowers her head, like she’s shy. “And you’re here, too...”
I drop my fork. “Liz—”
“I know.” She looks up at me. “I know I’ve said we need to go slow.”
I grab her hands. “I know. And I respect that.”
“But having you here,” she says, “eating dinner with me and chatting, I honestly don’t understand what I was afraid of. This is so natural and so comfortable. I should’ve invited you over ages ago. You go really well with Melanie’s ugly furniture—”
“Hey!”
She grins. “This—” She motions between her and me. “Us. It’s always been effortless. I’m sorry I’ve been putting breaks on things since day one. I... I didn’t believe I could genuinely be myself with someone the way I am around you. Just being me.”
Every fiber of my body is taut with barely suppressed need, but this has to be her choice. So I remain motionless, holding her gaze.
Liz comes around the kitchen island and stands between my legs. She puts her forearms on my shoulders and leans forward, her lips grazing my ear. “I think I’m done going slow,” she whispers, takes my earlobe between her teeth, and tugs.
“Oh, thank fuck,” I exhale with relief. I grab her by the waist and press her against me.
Wrapping her tight in my arms, I find her mouth and finally finally kiss her the way I’ve been wanting to for months.
She molds herself to me and hugs me around the neck as she eagerly opens up, her tongue flicking, seeking mine to deepen the kiss.
My hands roam her sides, digging into her softness, remembering the layout of her curves. Small mewling sounds leave her lips as she pulls me close.
“God, I want to see you naked,” she says as she starts tugging at my shirt. “I’ve been thinking about you nonstop.”
“Same,” I say, licking the column of her neck. “Same.” My hands slide down to her ass, and I feel a surge of possessiveness as I grab two overflowing handfuls. She moans as I squeeze and squeeze.
“Have you been with anyone ... since you and I last slept together?” she asks, one of her hands working on my belt.
“No. Went on a few dates, didn’t even kiss any of them,” I say as I nibble on her jawline and the corner of her mouth. “You scrambled my brain.”
She pulls back from me a little. “Me either. I mean, I went out through the apps, but I just... None of it was like when I met you, you know?”
I nod. “Yeah, I know. I know exactly what you mean.” I reach around her head to unclasp her hair. When she shakes it and the locks spill over her shoulders, I feel it deep in my chest. “So fucking gorgeous,” I murmur as I bring a few strands to the front and bury my nose in them.
“I am also still on the implant, if that’s of interest.” She’s smiling, her hands making small circles on my pecs.
“It is extremely of interest,” I growl as I squeeze her ass with the one hand, the other cupping her jaw. “Especially since I didn’t bring any condoms.”
She grins as she scratches my beard, then pulls me back into a kiss, and I think we’re done talking for now.
I grab the hem of her top—I realize for a second I have no idea what she has on, but also don’t care—and yank the thing off. She’s in her bra and work slacks, her lips red and soft and panting, standing between my legs by the kitchen island.
I cup both her tits from below. The bra is pretty and black, but not too frilly. I feel like the first time we were together, excited to unwrap her. I bury my nose in her cleavage and she giggles.
“This will never get old,” I murmur into the soft white flesh of her breasts. “I live here now.”
She grabs my forearm and drags me to the bedroom.
The bed is queen size, maybe not large enough for the two of us, but it will do.
The sheets are pretty and pastel and definitely very girly.
She’s even got a ruffled skirt for the mattress, but I assume the bed frame is just the cheap wire one, because there is no headboard.
“This room looks more like you,” I say.
Liz faces me, smiling. She goes for my belt, quickly unbuckles it and swiftly pulls it from the loops.
Then she unbuttons my pants and I hold my breath, expecting her hand would make its way into my pants, but instead she smirks and untucks my shirt.
It’s a button-up, and she and I make quick work of it together.
She tugs off the undershirt fast, and I hear her sigh with relief when her hands are finally on my torso.
“God, I love how you look,” she says. “You have no idea.” She unhooks her bra, then wraps her arms around my back. “I’ve been thinking of this, of feeling you against me, so many times since we broke up.”
I wrap my arms around her, too, both of us naked from the waist up, just hugging.
“I missed you so much, baby,” I say, stroking her hair. “I don’t think this is a rebound.”
“I don’t think so, either,” she says quietly, her cheek on my pecs.
The moment feels important, but I can still feel her pulling away, just a bit. I pinch her chin between my thumb and forefinger and turn it so she faces me. “Don’t you freak out on me now, okay? Everything is good, no reason to panic. It’s just me. I’ve got you.”
“It’s you,” she says breathlessly, like she finally remembers who I am as she molds herself to me.
I stroke her naked back, the sides of her tits, then slide my hands into her pants, unbutton them, and push down both the slacks and the underwear over her hips.
She helps out by wiggling but doesn’t break the kiss, her arms tight around my neck.
I squat a little and grab her by the ass. She squeals as I lift her up. “Joe! You will throw out your back!”