Page 19 of Present Tense

“Incredible. Magnificent. Life-altering.” He grabs the back of my head roughly and pulls me to him. “Is this a Saturday night for you?”

“More like a Tuesday.” His tongue strokes me deeply. I wonder if I’m different with him. I pull back, and say, “I’ve never done anything like this. I’ve never said things like that before. No one has ever driven me to these heights, or I guess I should say depths, of depravity. And we weren’t even that dirty in the scope of things I can think of doing.”

“I’m honored. I feel the same. I’ve never taken anyone at my front door before. I can usually wait until I’m in the house. And I’ve certainly never licked someone’s ass.”

I peel myself off him, and we giggle at the suction noise. It feels a bit like having a melted popsicle between us.

“I’m starving.” I pick up my clothes.

He sits up, and I get a nice view of his manly and gorgeous chest, his hair not too thick but incredibly sexy. Deep rich brown and auburn curls delicately frame his nipples, then it trails off down his abs, which are alarmingly cut, to my new favorite body part ever. Clearly, he grooms. The soft russet hair surrounding his enormous member is flattering and sexy.

He catches me staring. I get flustered and look away. I say, “I’m going to shower.”

“For the record, I like you looking at me.”

I grin slyly. My ex wasn’t small by any means. But Liam’s is large and so attractive. Most big-dick guys stick it in and pound, figuring their size is enough to satisfy a woman. It’s quite the opposite. Fletch is artful and considerate. This was supposed to be one night of lust, and now my head is doing nutty things. I need to get away from him. I turn away, and he catches my wrist at the door.

“Remember…you wear what I tell you.” His grip sends a thrill through me. As well as his demand.

“Then join me.”

“That I can do.”

His delicious dick hangs sleepy between us. We kiss all over in the shower. As he washes me softly with a washcloth, my nipples and thighs are a little sensitive from his beard.

He growls like a sexy bear when I rub his beard with leave-in conditioner. Then I grab his dick and put the excess on it.

“He’s asleep, Bella. Even you can’t wake the dead.” I like that he calls me beautiful, incorporating a childhood joke into something lovely. I like so many things about adult Liam Fletcher.

Kid Liam and I were inseparable when our families were together. No one could make me laugh harder. Talking to him tonight feels just as easy as it was then.

Teen Liam ignored me and made me self-conscious. I tried to regain his attention when I started seeing him in a different hormonal light, but Lisa always stopped me. She’d either chip away at my self-esteem or tell me how uninterested he was in me. Given the things he’s said tonight, I know she lied. I haven’t felt this easy in my skin in a long time. Life’s baggage seems out of reach.

I pick up my lingerie, and he yells, “Nope!”

“Just the bra. It’s a thing I have.” I don’t want to be this vulnerable in front of him. I want him to keep me in the fantasy category. He steps to me with a towel wrapped around his waist. He puts his hands on my shoulders as his thumbs slowly caress my clavicle.

“Tell me. No judgment, remember.”

“I hate the feel of my boobs on my stomach. I always wear a bra. Usually, it’s like a little stretchy cami thing, but I don’t have one here.”

“I love the feel of your glorious tits on my stomach. Do you mean, like, one of those sexy, lacy, stretchy things that would give me access faster than regular bras?” I nod, and he exhales. “I’d like to see that someday.” I try not to react as he talks about a future. I’m insane to think about that. I kinda want to find Other Cat and talk this through. Tuxedo is here, but that bitch is no help. He opts for a brown see-through satin lacy one. He hands me his shirt from earlier. “Your outfit.”

I obey. The shirt is a patchwork of conflicting plaids in red and green. It’s warm and smells like him. “This is quite the mosaic of plaid.” He laughs.

He pulls me to him and buttons my shirt while kissing me. “Looks good on you.”

“No. It does not. You’re lust-drunk.” I glance around the room—even Tuxedo cat is wearing plaid on its collar. “You really love plaid.”

“Plaid’s the new black.”

I go on my tiptoes and lick his lips. “Plaid’s the new sexy.”

I grab a cozy robe—plaid, of course—hanging on the back of his bedroom door. I rifle through his dresser, finding a pair of boxers covered with cats in Santa hats.

“You love cats this much?”

“Don’t you?”