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As he drinks me in, he takes a step forward, and I take a step back. We play this game until my back is against the wall. He has taken off his button down, leaving his washboard abs free to admire.
I know he’s upset that Jasper called me Elizabeth.
“Is that what you’re going by now? Lettie isn’t good enough. Do you want me to call you Elizabeth?”
His words are like phantom slaps across my skin. He knows the only one who called me Elizabeth was my mom and dad.
“No.”
He runs his strong hands over his jaw. “Why?”
“You know why.”
“So, why are you letting someone you just met call you Elizabeth?”
I shrug as he tilts my chin so that our eyes collide. Pushing my words up my throat, I say, “Jasper said it sounds more befitting an Olympic Champion.”
“Lettie baby, when are you going to understand that you’re perfect the way you are? But I have to admit I’m scared that you’re letting this guy control you. And I don’t care what name they announce you as or what scrolls across the bottom of ESPN, I just don’t want another man…”
“It’s not like that. He’s hard to argue with, so I just let him call me whatever he wants.”
Dane’s brows pinch together, “So Elizabeth is the answer? That doesn’t sound like my Lettie Bug, letting people boss her around.”
“In fairness, it’s easier to be bossed when I’m on my meds.” I chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood. “Are you going to kiss me, or are we gonna argue about my name?”
“Kissing you isn’t enough, baby.” With one thumb caressing my face, and the other hand stroking my legs, he presses his knee between my thighs, spreading them wide, pushing my boy shorts to the side. “If you need to relax, don’t have expensive wine with someone else. Come to me.” The pads of his fingers sweep through my folds, leaving me breathing heavy. “I can’t stand to think of you looking like ten stars out of five with another man. That dress… those heels… your hair in the comb I gave you.”
My eyes close at the sound of his gruff voice.
“What do you need from me, Elizabeth?”
“Don’t call me that. I hate that name.”
“What do you need from me?”
“I need you to love me.”
His lips lightly touch mine. “Done.” He slides his middle finger into me. “Lettie, I’ve always loved you and always will. Never thought I would explore your body or feel your juices on my fingers, but now that I have… I’m not letting a guy like Jasper convince you that you aren’t good enough the way you are.”
He pumps in and out while pressing his thumb against my clit. Circling. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this,” I pant.
The soft assault continues against my center, and our desire only intensifies until we reach our destination, breathless and fully consumed by each other.
With my head resting against the wall, feeling utter bliss after another blinding orgasm from my boyfriend’s fingers. “Do you remember when we tested Stretch Armstrong?” I raise my head to look at Dane’s face.
“You’re thinking about Stretch Armstrong? I must need to up my game.” He gives me a soft smile, but his eyes are questioning.
“I was just thinking maybe you could stretch me and twist me like we used to do to him.”
A mischievous grin explodes across his face. “So bad. But yeah, baby, I’ll do anything and everything you want. If you want to experiment, I’m down. Does my bad girl want a little pain?” He pinches my bundle of nerves, and I yelp.
My neck and face feel one hundred degrees, embarrassment causes me to look away. He brings my chin back to center. “Don’t be embarrassed. We’re sharing this part of our lives now, and I want it to be honest and true. If I’m not giving you what you need, tell me.”
“You do. But what if I’m not living up to the fiction in your head?”
“You’re the winds of a hurricane. You’re the feather falling from the sky. You’re the girl cruising with the top down, enjoying life. Baby, you’re perfect to me. Just the way you are. And if I want something from you, I’ll ask. Like now, I want you to sit on my face. I need an appetizer.”
I slap his chest playfully, but he discards my pajama shorts and picks me up. I wrap my hot center against the ridges of his abdomen. They should be illegal, not over-defined like a weightlifter, but better than any athlete I’ve seen. I’m sure Brooke, Adalee, and Harper would argue that their man has the premier body.
