Lizzie Blake's Best Mistake (A Brush with Love, #2)(68)

And damn did it feel good—powerful—to see him undone beneath her. To watch him unravel as every muscle in his body tensed and hardened. His groans shot currents of lust from her breasts to her clit, all of it building higher and higher.

With a sudden grunt, he lifted her, flipping her on her back and positioning himself over her again. He ground into her with speed and pressure, his boxers damp between them as his hips pumped, the tip of his swollen cock hitting her in the perfect spot over and over until Lizzie cried out, her fingernails digging into his back, the orgasm jolting through every corner of her body.

“Fuck,” Rake grunted out, following her into the mindless bliss.

He collapsed to the side of her, rolling onto his back, and they stared up at the ceiling, panting and sweaty.

A weighted silence filled the room.

“I feel like a teenager,” Rake said after a few moments, shooting a gross look to his sticky abs and destroyed boxers.

“Who doesn’t love a good dry hump to completion?” Lizzie said, awkwardness settling around them as they continued to lie there. They were quiet for a few minutes.

“We probably shouldn’t have done that,” she said when the continued silence became unbearable.

“Probably not,” Rake agreed, still staring up at the ceiling.

“It was a one-off thing,” Lizzie added.

“Totally. Won’t happen again.”

Lizzie nodded, ignoring the way her heart felt like it might punch through her chest. Getting up, she swung her legs off the side of the bed and headed toward the bathroom, walking off any weird feelings that were trying to cling to her.

“Yup, never again,” she said, shooting him a smile before closing the bathroom door behind her, unable to shut out the emotions swirling through her stomach.

It would all be okay. It was nothing.

One little slipup didn’t mean anything.

… Right?





Chapter 35



Week seventeen. Le bébé is the size of a crème br?lée.

Lizzie and Rake were doing really well at their “never again” agreement. Over the following month, they only broke it five times.

Which was truly remarkable since Rake was so damn hot and Lizzie was so damn horny. But could either really be blamed for screwing each other senseless one morning when the coffee took an extra-long time to brew? And, really, it was only economical and environmentally friendly for them to shower together from time to time. If perhaps a dick slipped into a mouth or fingers into a pussy now and then while Rake maybe growled about how sexy he found her tiny baby bump or the swelling of her breasts, it was a small trade-off for trying to preserve water.

But the crucial point was that, after the most recent time, they’d firmly agreed to no more totally platonic hookups.

And they’d already gone five days without one.

Growth was a beautiful thing.

A huge reason for their recent success was the disgusting heat wave melting the city. The building’s air conditioner was tuckering out, and the coolest they could get their unit was a staggering eighty degrees, causing Rake and Lizzie to say fuck it and open the windows and invest in some fans.

It was a particularly unbearable night, soft city noises and curls of humidity pushing in the open window, adding to Lizzie’s discomfort. She flopped and flailed beneath the suffocating sheets, unable to find any relief. After another minute, she let out a loud, suffering sigh, peeking over at Rake’s sleeping form as she did so. When he didn’t even twitch, she gave it a more aggressive attempt.

Still nothing.

“Hey,” she whisper-yelled, poking his bicep. “Rake. Hey.”

Rake squinted one eye open and looked at her, his cheek smooshed into the mattress. “What, Birdy?” he mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Can you turn on your tiny-ass fan?” she whispered, sitting up and nodding at the small thing on his nightstand. He blinked at her a few times before rolling and flipping it on.

“I was sleeping,” he said, turning back to stare up at the ceiling, his voice less groggy.

“That’s so weird,” Lizzie said, kicking the sheets off them both. “Because I wasn’t.”

Rake was silent for a few seconds, before he let out a sigh and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, grabbing their crumpled quilt and tucking it over one arm.

“Go where?” Lizzie asked.

Rake didn’t answer, just reached out an impatient hand and gently tugged her from the bed. He marched them toward the door, dropping her hand to grab two pillows off the couch as they went. Lizzie smiled, a gooey, delicious smile as she followed his sleep-rumpled form out the door and down the hall. His hair stood on end, his T-shirt and sleep shorts lightly wrinkled and clinging to him. These simple things shouldn’t have caused a punch of tenderness to strike her in the chest, but they did.

He pushed the button for the elevator, then scrubbed at his face, shaking his head as he tried to wake up.

“Are you abducting me?” Lizzie asked with a grin.

Rake yawned in response.

Lizzie hadn’t noticed at first, but he had hit the up button for the elevator, the little green arrow illuminating and pointing toward the ceiling as the doors slid open. Lizzie moved in after him and watched as he hit the button for the top floor. Lizzie looked at him with raised eyebrows.