Page 31 of The False Start (Off the Bench)

Chapter Twenty-One

LILA

I step out of the shower feeling refreshed. The lodge itself might be rustic chic, but there’s absolutely nothing rustic about this shower. I pat myself dry using one of the fluffy white towels and realize the issue as I look around at my clothes scattered over the tiled floor.

I don’t have any other clothes.

A white bathrobe hangs on the back of the door to the main room, and I slip it on. I fold my clothes neatly, tucking my panties under my shirt and carrying them out with me into the bedroom.

Cal has cleared the comforter of roses, though a few escaped petals dot the rug under the bed.

“The water pressure is amazing,” I say as his head snaps up sweeping over my figure, his gaze lingering on the skin exposed by the neckline of the robe. I resist the urge to either untie the entire thing or run back into the bathroom to put on my clothes from earlier.

“Do you feel better?” he asks, getting to his feet.

“Much.”

“Good.” His eyes linger on mine, his gaze intense, the silver of his eyes a swirling pool that could suck me right in if I’m not careful.

“I think I’ll try it out for myself.” He steps around me and into the en suite, the door shutting with a click behind him.

I steady my breathing and wipe my suddenly sweaty hands on the robe. I’m glancing around the room for something to do until I can conceivably pretend to sleep and avoid the tension of spending the night together, when I spot the champagne on the end table.

I grin. Liquid courage. Perfect.

I make quick work of the cork and pour a healthy measure into one of the glasses, taking a long draw. I refill the glass, and fill the second one as well, before sitting to wait for Cal.

I’ve gone through about two-and-a-half scenarios of how tonight can go—each dirtier than the last—when the bathroom door opens, revealing Cal dressed in nothing but a single towel wrapped around his waist.

His muscular, trim waist. The muscles pointing right to where—no.

I can’t think of his dick. Unfortunately, now that’s all I can think about.

My cheeks burn, and I force my eyes up the rest of his body.

If only that helped, because with row after row of hard abdominal muscles and his chiseled chest, my body temperature has risen at least five degrees, and I need a cold shower.

I finally bring my eyes meet his, and he smirks. Busted.

“There was only one robe.” His hands grip the towel knot, and I swallow. “Who has a honeymoon suite with only one bathrobe?”

“I don’t know,” I say, my voice quite a bit huskier than I intended. I could swear his eyes darken a fraction. I clear my throat. “Champagne?”

“You couldn’t wait for me?” He winks, but strides forward, taking the glass from my outstretched hand.

“It was just waiting there, begging to be drunk.” I force a laugh. Why am I the only one affected by our proximity given that we’re naked under these two pieces of cloth?

“Cheers,” I say, clinking his glass with mine. He drinks half of it in one go, and I know now I’m not the only one affected. He’s just better at hiding it than I am.

We sip our drinks in silence, not meeting each other’s eyes.

“So, uh, I can sleep on the floor tonight,” Cal finally says. My eyes fly to his face.

“No, you have a game on Sunday. Won’t that ruin your back or something?”

“I think I can manage one night, Lila.”

“It’s fine, really. I could sleep on the floor, or even in this chair really.” I squish myself further into the cushion as if to demonstrate how comfortable I can be here.

“Absolutely not.”

“We could just share the bed?” I suggest hesitantly before plowing on. “It’s huge, I mean really, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bed that big. We could both sleep well and barely even know we’re both in the bed.”

He looks at me skeptically.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?

I glance quickly at his exposed abs and swallow. “Yep, it’ll be fine.”

“We should probably head to sleep soon then, since we want to get a head start in the morning. I’ll go finish getting ready.” He stands, draining the last bit of champagne left in his glass. He emerges moments later in nothing but black boxer briefs.

“Is this, okay? I can put on something else, but I’d really rather not sleep in jeans if you’re okay with that.” He runs a hand through the hair on the back of his neck.

“Uh huh.” I nod dumbly, fully unable to manufacture a coherent thought as my eyes zero in on the tricep muscle bulging from the movement. Why are arms so attractive? I intentionally ignore the other attractive parts of his body currently on display.

He moves to sit on the bed, pulling out his phone, and I take my chance and rush to the bathroom to dig through my pile of clothes.

Realizing I have nothing that will work as pajamas, I eye Cal’s white t-shirt next to my own clothes pile.

I unearth my panties from inside my stack of clothes and slide them on, making the snap decision to pull on Cal’s shirt.

If I’m gonna do this, I might as well go full throttle. I haven’t been with anyone other than Dennis in years, and the attraction is mutual. I should get back on the horse—or under the man—at some point, and I trust Cal. I feel safe with him.

I stare at myself in the mirror and finger comb my hair.

“You got this, Lila. You’re hot. He’s hot. What’s an orgasm between friends?” I ask my reflection.

The one bed trope always works out in the books. How bad could it be in real life? Right? Right. Tons of people were friends with benefits, and it worked out great. I just have to take the leap.

I take one final breath and open the door.

Cal is still on his phone, facing the other wall. God, didn’t he know I was trying to make an entrance?

I walk around the bed, coming to stand in front of him and slowly he looks up at me, gaze landing first on my bare legs, then catching on the shirt.

“Is that"—he clears his throat—“my shirt?”

“Oh, yeah. Is it okay if I borrow it tonight? None of my clothes would really work to sleep in, and I didn’t really want to sleep naked.” I force a laugh, but his jaw clenches at the mention of me naked.

I step toward him, reaching up to place one hand on his shoulder. “Cal?—"

“Lila, no.” My hand slides toward down to his chest. “We don’t have to. We can just sleep.”

I place one knee on the bed outside his broad thigh. “What if I want to?” I whisper. I bring my other knee up on the bed until I’m sitting on his lap, straddling his hips. His hands rise to my waist lifting the t-shirt with them, his fingers gripping tightly at my bare skin.

Cal’s eyes are molten, reminding me of how they nearly glowed that first night in the bar. I grind down once, and he groans, hands moving toward my hips and pushing me against him. I can feel him growing harder under me, separated only by two thin pieces of fabric.

“Please, Cal,” I whisper, my lips grazing his ear.

One hand moves to fist in my hair, dragging my lips to his in a searing kiss, the other gripping my ass tightly against him.

His tongue sweeps into my mouth eagerly, stroking mine as he grinds against me, swallowing every moan down as if they’re water and he’s been stranded in the desert.

He kisses me like a man starved, and I’ve never felt so wanted, so lit on fire by another person.

His mouth moves hungrily down my jaw, latching onto a spot below my pulse point that has me whimpering as heat floods my body, my pulse pounding between my legs.

I grind down on him to relieve the pressure, and when I feel how hard he is beneath me, a low, swooping sensation in my gut has me clutching him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans. “What do you want, love?”

“You,” I breathe, moving to push him flat down onto the bed.

With a blazing silver fire in his eyes, he resists. He rises from the bed, bringing me with him and spins to drop me on the bed.

I move to my knees facing him, placing open-mouthed kisses up his abdomen and chest before sucking at a spot on his neck.

His hands are everywhere, running through my hair, along my back, kneading my ass. I sit back on my heels and reach to pull off the shirt, but his hand grabs my wrist.

“Leave it on. Seeing you in my clothes is a fucking religious experience.” He surges forward, sealing our lips together once more. He guides me back down to the bed, his body deliciously heavy on my own, and I pull my knees up to bracket his hips, pushing myself up into him.

One of his hands skims underneath my t-shirt, his thumb circling my nipple slowly, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger and bringing it to a sharp peak before moving to the other.

He gives the second one a sharp pinch, forcing a heady moan from my mouth, one he greedily swallows.

His heat surrounds me, and my body is on fire, the room seeming to tunnel around him.

Like my mind can’t quite keep up with what my heart and body already know. That I want him.

I reach for the waistband of his boxer briefs, but he pulls out of my reach, pushing up the t-shirt and lowering his mouth to the painfully sharp bud. The room has disappeared around me, because all that exists for me is Cal, and all my needs can now be met with one simple thing.

One long, hard thing.

I whine, and he gives a low chuckle, kissing down my stomach and stopping at the waistband of my thong.

“May I?” He asks, sucking a bruise onto my hip bone.

“Please, yes, God, yes.”

He smirks up at me and slides the panties down my legs before standing from the bed. I look up at him confused.

He grabs my ankles and pulls me to the end of the bed, before kneeling slowly as he spreads my thighs, opening me to him.

I flush in embarrassment. It’s been a while since anyone was really down here and at least a few weeks since my last wax.

Even Dennis didn’t go down on me much anymore and most of the sex we had was in the dark, clothes half on. Very perfunctory.

“Hey, where’d you go?” he asks, concern coloring his voice.

“What?”

“Where’d you go, Lila? I’m on my knees before you. I’d think that would command your full attention.” He nearly growls.

“Sorry,” I laugh nervously, “I just?—"

“You just what?” He nips at my calf.

“You don’t have to. It’s okay.” I blurt out and try to close my knees.

“Is that what this is? You’re embarrassed?” His tongue traces a path up my thigh.

“I’m not embarrassed. I just, I don’t know. Dennis didn’t . . . I mean, it doesn’t really do much for me,” I ramble.

“Really? Well, it does something for me. And I don’t want to hear another man’s name come out of your mouth when I’m between your legs,” he growls, his tone in contrast to his fingertips tracing light patterns over my legs.

I flush as hands push my thighs to the bed.

“I’ve wanted to taste you since that goddamned club.” His tongue travels higher, and my breathing hitches. “Lila, will you let me taste you?”

He’s kissing along the inside of my thighs, and I’m nearly quivering with anticipation.

I groan, throwing my head back on the duvet.

“Need to hear you, love.”

“Yes,” I nearly moan. The moment the word leaves my mouth, he’s on me.

His tongue swiping up my center before circling my clit.

His hands reach back around to grab my ass, securing me to his face.

His tongue swirls as he sucks my clit into his mouth, and I nearly scream, one hand reaching to grip his hair while the other fists in the comforter.

He hums against me, the vibration sending sparks straight to my core, and I buck up against his face.

He bands an arm across my hip bone, locking me in place on the bed, and looks up at me, his pupils blown wide with lust. His licks another broad swipe up my center before thrusting it into me.

The strength of his forearm is the only thing that keeps me sane, the heavy weight deliciously grounding in contrast to the stars beginning to pop behind my eyes.

His thumb working my clit has my legs starting to shake.

“That’s it, love.” Two long fingers replace his tongue, and I moan wantonly.

His hands are huge, stretching me perfectly.

“Come for me,” he growls. And as his teeth nip at my clit once more, I go off like a firework, crying out in pleasure.

He works me through the orgasm, bringing me back down to earth before removing his fingers slowly.

I shudder, meeting his eyes as he brings his hand to his mouth and sucks his fingers clean.

“Next time, I’ll make you clean me off.” His voice is full of promise, and I eye his bulging erection, trying to gauge a comparison based on his hand size and swallow.

I reach for him to return the favor or beg him to fuck me into next week, really either one would be okay, but he gives a small shake of his head and reaches for my discarded panties. He hands them to me, coming to lay on the bed behind me.

Once I’m dressed, he pulls me to him, but keeps our cuddling firmly PG.

“You don’t want to?” I ask, trying to keep the hurt from my voice.

“I think it’s pretty fucking obvious I do.”

“Then why?”

“Lila, this isn’t going to be something you’ll regret tomorrow morning. When I fuck you, I want you to be only thinking of me, and how good I make you feel. Not some asshole who wouldn’t even go down on you.” His voice is a low growl in my ear.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

“Do you need me to prove it to you?” He grips my hip, pulling me flush against his straining cock. “Because I could eat you out all night if it’ll show you that I’m in this for more than a quick fuck, but I won’t fuck you until you are too.”

With my back to him, he can’t see my face, and I grin at the words, a warm feeling unrelated to my recent orgasm filling my chest.

“Come on, let’s get some sleep,” he says after a few moments.

We pull back the covers, sliding under them easily. Cal hesitates for a moment, and calling all my bravery forward, I turn and snuggle into him.

He smiles tentatively, opening his arms and letting my head rest on his shoulder, my hand feeling the heartbeats beneath his muscled chest. I drift off easily, content and warm and safe, for the first time in weeks.