Losing You (Stars On Fire Book 4) (4 page)

“Do you mind if we sit?” he asked, motioning towards the swing. Somehow she managed to squeak out a “no.”

He situated himself in the corner facing her, one of his long legs resting beneath him, the other on the ground, casually pushing the swing. Lizzie adjusted herself, tucking her legs beneath her and letting Marc do all the work. Their knees barely touched, but she felt the searing heat of his leg against her bare skin regardless.

“Comfortable?” he asked, the intensity of his eyes burning a hole through her soul as he spoke.

She nodded her head, snapping herself out of the spell he wove.

“Good because I want to know everything about you and I’m not letting you go until I’m satisfied.”

“Really? And what do I get in return?”

“More than you can imagine,” he warned.

Marc

Lizzie may have been quiet and a little awkward, but Marc sensed the fire beneath the surface. He knew he got to her. He liked that knowledge . . . immensely. What he didn’t know was if it was as much as she got to him. She was a fucking knockout wrapped in a small package and he had this insane desire to unwrap her. And as they sat on the swing, talking and getting to know each other, it only grew. This had never happened to him—not to this degree. He’d be a fool not to explore it.

Marc looked up and saw the bright moon high in the sky—when did it get so late? He felt like he’d only been talking to Lizzie for minutes not hours. Checking his watch for confirmation, he saw that it was indeed close to two in the morning. His eyes scanned the yard, and he saw only a few people on the deck. Everyone else had left.

“Looks like the party’s over,” he said, his eyes returning to her. Unable to help himself, he lightly touched the soft skin of her knee with the tips of his fingers, feeling her flesh erupt with goose bumps.

“It sure looks that way,” she agreed, smiling at him. He really liked her bright and infectious smile. It took his breath away. He felt high. Was he? He didn’t think so, but whatever it was, it was so much better. With just a smile, he felt the tug on his heart and the increasing pressure in the front of his pants. It had been a long time since he’d experienced anything close to those feelings, and he didn’t feel like giving that up so easily.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he offered, his roaming hand rubbing her thigh, wanting to continue higher.

“I agree,” Lizzie stated, her head bent down, watching his hand on her leg. She lifted her gaze, looking him in the eye and her smile grew.

“You do?” he exclaimed, his eyes widening, totally surprised. God, he was so out of practice. “I mean, of course you do. So . . . where should we continue the party?”

“We can go to your place, if you’d like. I can follow you.”

Marc couldn’t believe his fucking luck. This girl had him stammering like a nervous schoolboy, but he didn’t care. Lizzie wanted to go home with him.

“That would be great. I only live a couple of blocks away.”

“I’d like to say goodbye to Tom. If you could meet me out front . . . I’m the black Jeep,” she said. He nodded because that’s all he could manage. Elizabeth was going home with him. Placing her hand over the one he had on her thigh, she lifted it slightly as she rose from the swing. She kept their joined hands close to her so his hand rested on her lower belly, right above the waist of her tiny ass shorts. The ones his eyes kept falling to over the course of the night. The ones he couldn’t wait to strip from her body. He looked up and Lizzie gave him a smile that made him very glad he was sitting down. She then let his hand go and turned towards the house. Marc watched her walk away, appreciating the way her ass looked in those short as sin shorts. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on it.

Tom

Tom rose as Lizzie made her way up the deck. He realized the late hour and that he hadn’t had the chance to sit down and talk with her. Molly had kept him occupied all damn night. So damn clingy. Insecurity was taking over her, and in turn, annoying the hell out of him. He’d been so excited to spend time with Lizzie and catch up, but Molly ruined it with her lack of self-confidence.

Though Lizzie seemed to hold her own. First with Ollie and Gwen then with Marc. He was glad that they’d seemed to hit it off. Tom trusted his best friend to keep his old best friend entertained. He’d looked over their way from time to time, and both seemed to be having a good time, laughing and talking most of the night. At least someone had.

Molly needed to be reassured which meant he spent part of his evening in his bedroom fucking giving it to her. Normally he didn’t mind. She kept his mind off the woman he wanted—had wanted for way too long—Mia. From the first day he met her over six years ago.

But tonight, he’d wanted to be with his friends . . . especially the long lost one.

“Hon, I’m going to head home. I’m really glad I came,” Lizzie said.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he said. “I feel bad—”

“Don’t feel bad. Just make sure we catch up—alone—real soon.”

Tom would definitely have to do that. He needed to know what’d been happening in her life these past few years. What kept her away, what brought her back. She wrapped her arms around his torso and when he secured her in his, he swore he heard her sigh.

“Believe me, I’ll call. I won’t let it be another year before we talk again,” he said, feeling her cheeks against his chest lift up in a smile. He liked that feeling.

“Good night, Tom,” she said, rising up and pressing her lips on his cheek.

“Good night, Lizzie.”

She took a step back and gave him a small yet content smile before turning and leaving the backyard. He stood staring at the place she vacated, knowing that he’d be making some changes to his life now that Lizzie was back in it.

Lizzie

As she walked to her Jeep, Lizzie thought about what the hell she was about to do in the next thirty minutes—sex with the mysterious yet so very sexy Marc. The thought excited her more than she’d been in years.

Yes, years.

Way too many years. Could she be classified as a born-again virgin? Would she even remember what she needed to do? Was sex really like riding a bike? The basics she knew. Take dick, insert into vagina, move it in and out, then boom! Orgasm.

Supposedly.

She was so out of practice!

A part of her wanted to turn on the Jeep and leave and not chance making a fool out of herself, but the thing that kept her there was that easy connection she had with Marc. Another thing she really hadn’t had in years—companionship. Of any kind.

That was something she wanted so badly. Especially with Marc.

He knocked on the windshield, an excited smile on his handsome face, and Lizzie wondered what his kickstand looked like. The moment the thought crossed her mind she almost broke out laughing.
Oh God, Lizzie, you are giddy as fuck and your clothes haven’t even been shed. Simmer the hell down.

“Hop in,” she said to him. As soon as he clicked his seatbelt in place, she gunned the motor and pulled out of the parking spot.

Marc directed her the short distance to his house. Once in his driveway, she cut the engine and turned her attention all on him. She wanted him. How on earth had she even considered not going through with this? She needed him.

Her heart pounded, her body pulsed with her need. As if he sensed the tumultuous feelings inside her, he leaned over and placed his lips on hers, softly at first, but the electricity that coursed between them ignited something inside of her. Desperation to be closer to him fueled her movements, but the damn center console blocked her path.

She felt his smile against her lips, then with ease, he pulled her across the console and onto his lap, her knees finding a home on either side of him. She sighed inwardly when she felt the hardness between her legs. His kickstand was so much bigger than she’d thought.

She moved on him, crushing her chest to his, her mouth to his hard lips. His hands traveled between their bodies to the zipper of her hoodie and quickly unzipped it, grazing her breasts along the way, making her nipples harden at the touch. He pushed the fabric off her shoulders and let it slide to the floor of the Jeep. His warm hands moved under her tank and held her chilled breasts in his hands. She arched her back, silently telling him to take more, do more to her. Marc seemed to understand her unspoken plea because his open mouth surrounded her fabric-covered nipple, forcing his name to spill out of her mouth.

With a parting nip, he left her breast. “I like my name on your lips,” he spoke heatedly as his kiss floated over her skin. “Just about as much as those moans you make when my lips move over your body. I want more.”

Oh, Lord . . . so did she. So much more. She wanted to scream it—hell, she wanted to scream out in the ecstasy
he
gave her.

“Do you want more, Lizzie?” he asked, his hands leaving her body.

Inwardly, she cried out, missing his hands on her. Outwardly, she answered him truthfully. “Yes . . . please.”

With a swift kiss to her lips, he reached to his left and grabbed the keys from the ignition, before leaning forward.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he whispered against her ear. After she complied, he maneuvered them out of the Jeep and led them to the back of his house where he had a separate entrance to his second level. When they finally got to his bedroom, he placed her in the center of the bed and continued the task of removing her clothes. First, the thin white tank top, then the nude-colored bra. Kneeling before her, he slowly removed her shoes, his thumb trailing where the shoe had once been. A delicious shiver shot straight up from her foot to her neck.

His nimble hands made quick work of her shorts and thong then he began the pleasant unveiling of his own body. He removed his shirt and threw it on the chair. When his eyes caught hers, she knew she was a goner.

He made his way back to her slowly, placing warm kisses along her legs, her stomach, her breasts, and when he finally arrived at her mouth, she wanted to flip him over and do the same to him. She wanted to devour him and he must have seen the look in her eyes because his body pushed against hers until she was finally lying flat against the bed.

She ran her hands along his strong back, loving the feel of him, tracing the outline of his ass. His breathing quickened against her throat as she felt her way along his jeans to his waist, moving her hands between the fabric and his skin. This was about the craziest thing she had ever done in her life, but this felt right. He made her feel . . . incredible. He stimulated her . . . in more ways than one.

After she deftly unbuttoned his pants, Lizzie slid her hand inside and her breath caught as she tried to grasp his cock in her hand. Her eyes quickly fell downward and widened in shock. This was no kickstand. It was a goddamn post!

He lifted his face above hers and smiled wickedly. “I warned you, didn’t I? Don’t worry . . . it won’t hurt at all.”

She bit off a laugh. She hoped it wouldn’t, though it might if her lack of sex had sealed her vagina shut. That fear didn’t stop her from touching him, tracing the vein from the base to the tip. He closed his eyes and fell onto her as she continued her exploration. Her other hand sought out his balls and Marc almost bolted from her.