Out of Love(48)

Legs for days.

Sun-kissed skin.

The whole damn package.

I pushed down my wet suit past my hips and sat next to her to peel off the legs. She hopped out and grabbed it, releasing my legs quickly and tossing it in the back on top of hers.

“I’ll feed you at my house. I have to get my paper done.”

“Because you’re behind … from being gone so much.” She inspected me through narrowed eyes, straddling my lap.

I waited for her to elaborate, asking me more about my absence, but she didn’t.

“You on that board …” I relinquished a slight grin and an easy head shake as I whistled.

Pride bloomed along her cheeks and curled her lips. “You like watching me surf?”

My hands slid up the back of her loose sweatshirt, quickly discovering she’d discarded her bikini top. “I like watching you everything.”

“Wylder …” she whispered, just before kissing me and rubbing herself against my erection.

A gust of wind kicked up some dirt in the parking lot as some people got out of an SUV maybe twenty yards away. She broke our kiss and glanced over her shoulder at them. We could have climbed into the bed and shut the side door.

Not Livy.

She pushed down the front of my thin shorts and lifted onto her knees just enough to slide the crotch of her bottoms aside and sink onto me with a small gasp at her lips. I cupped her ass. Anyone looking at us from that distance wouldn’t have seen any naked parts, but if they focused on our movement, they would’ve known exactly what we were doing.

We had no fucks to give to anyone but each other in that moment.

The problem?

I had this woman in my life, but I had no real room for her. No future to offer her. No promises. Nothing …

What were the chances of her not asking for anything beyond that moment?

*

We fell into an easy groove. If all “relationships” were like ours, I had no idea what so many guys complained about.

Livy spent a lot of time with her friends. She surfed a shit ton. Occasionally, she did some actual schoolwork that took her longer than thirty minutes. When I worked on my metal projects, she used my weights to work out. The way she attacked my punching bag stunned me on more than one occasion. Her aunt knew some solid shit.

Jericho loved her—nearly as much as he loved me. More … according to Livy. The sex … no words. She wanted it all the time and everywhere. Spontaneity was her specialty.

“What are you baking?” I asked, when Jericho and I came home after several days away. Several days of Livy not asking me one damn question about my whereabouts.

Again … the woman was perfect.

“Wylder …” Livy turned to face me, licking something from her fingers. “I missed my boys.” She wasted no time throwing herself into my arms and wrapping her legs around my waist.

After she kissed me, I grabbed her hand and sucked the fingers she licked just seconds earlier. “Mmm … what is it?” I walked us to the island and set her on it.

“Cookies for you. They just went into the oven. Twelve minutes. Eleven now.” Her hands worked the button and zipper to my pants.

Nobody had it better than I did.

We fucked on the island in eight minutes, dressed by nine, cookies out of the oven by the eleven-minute mark.

“I found a recipe that I think is similar to your mom’s. They’re hot, but I want to know what you think.” She peeked her head into the bedroom, holding a plate with a cookie on it, while I unpacked.

“You made my favorite cookies?”

“Of course. And I got cow ears and dehydrated duck feet for Jerry.” She lifted the cookie to my lips. Her blond hair was pulled into a ponytail but a bit mussed from my hands messing with it while we greeted each other on the kitchen island.

At first, everything tasted familiar. The oats, the spices, the hint of orange. Then my face contorted, and I stopped chewing. Worse than that, I grabbed the plate and spat out the half-chewed bite.

Livy gasped.

“What did you put in them?”

Her nose wrinkled in disgust as did mine when we stared at the plate.

“It’s a raisin,” she glanced up at me, eyes wide like “duh.”

“Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Not oatmeal raisin.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“I know, but I forgot to get chocolate chips at the store, and Kara was coming this way. We had raisins at our place, so I figured it would be fine. I mean … oatmeal raisin is kinda the original oatmeal cookie.”

“Raisins are not even close to chocolate chips. You can’t sneak those little fuckers in food without warning people.”

She rolled her lips between her teeth.

“It’s not funny.” I turned and finished unpacking my bag.

A snort escaped her. “It’s totally funny. They’re just grapes. I’ve seen you eat grapes.”

“Dead grapes. It’s like digging up a corpse and trying to fuck it fifty years after burial.”

Another snort followed as she bent over, resting her hands on her knees, laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. “Oh … oh my … god. I found your Achilles’ heel.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. Cheeks red. Body still vibrating with laughter. “Raisins.”

Resting my hands on my hips, I let her work out her amusement for another minute or so. “Are you done?”