Authors: Lexxi Callahan
She’d never seen Rogan back down from anyone. The only reason he and Stefan didn’t butt heads was because they’d beaten the crap out of each other in fifth grade. They’d been best friends ever since.
She wondered if Nic had ever had a best friend. Probably not. It was all she could do not to run her fingers through his hair. He needed a haircut.
“Be still while I wrap this up.”
She straightened and tried to behave but he was being all bossy. The harsh look on his face and dangerously quiet words were getting her worked up. She struggled not to squirm on the barstool but she was starting to ache as the heat simmered deep inside her, turning parts of her liquid. “You’re mad at me.”
“I’m getting you out of here.” He taped off the gauze and set it aside.
“No.” She blinked back tears. “No, no, no. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
She squeaked when his arm snaked around her waist. “You aren’t going anywhere else without me again,” he informed her. “Except maybe a shower.”
“I’ve had far too much tequila for a shower to do any good.” She rubbed against him to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. Bossy she liked. Angry not so much. “Don’t be mad. I can’t take another person hating me.”
His hand flattened at the small of her back. “Does it feel like I hate you?”
She shook her head, unable to speak.
He caught himself from lowering his head and kissing her which made her mood plummet. “We’re going to talk first but not until you’re coherent.”
“I’m coherent,” she told his throat. He had the sexiest throat she’d ever seen. “I’m trying to solve the Riemann hypothesis.”
“With rose petals and stems?”
“Uh huh.” She wondered if his throat tasted as good as it looked. “And blood and alcohol.” She lowered her voice in another conspiratorial whisper. “But I don’t think it can be solved. It’s unsolvable. Like us.”
He stepped back and she tried to slide down from the barstool but the ground wouldn’t stop tilting. Nic leaned down and slid his arms under her legs and shoulders then lifted her up. She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.
“I’m going to miss this part,” she admitted, then forgot about everything else but tasting the bronze skin of his throat. He tasted so good and she loved the rumbly sound he made in his chest. She licked him next, and yes, her hypothesis was correct, he made the rumbly sound again but louder. She kissed him some more, loving the taste of the warm skin inside his collar and the way his fingers tightened on her.
Maybe she could solve her Nic problem. She might not get a million dollars but her prize would be so much better.
“What’s the Riemann hypothesis?”
She smiled. Nobody she cared about was ever interested in her work. Maybe Nic would be different. Maybe he might understand some of it. “It’s the holy grail of mathematics.”
“It’s that important?”
She sighed. Maybe everything might be okay after all. “Yeah, it’s a millennium problem. There’s a million dollar prize if someone proves it, but if it’s proven it will bring down the Internet, destroy e-commerce. No one’s password would be safe.”
“And you still want to prove it?”
“It’s the most important unanswered question. Some people are trying to disprove it by finding a nontrivial zero that’s not on the half line, but no one has and I don’t think you win the million dollars if you disprove it.”
“You want a million dollars that bad?”
“No.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t take the money. The guy who proved Poincaré conjecture didn’t take the prize money.”
“You want to solve a million dollar math problem but not for the million dollars.”
“I’m not making any sense, am I?”
He shook his head but the corner of his mouth was ticking up and Lizzie decided it was good to be back with the center of her universe. The world was a cold place without him. “Not much,” he agreed, reaching past her.
She opened her mouth to explain that prime numbers were random but still had structure when icy water crashed down on her. She shrieked and danced up and down as he held her under the water while her lovely buzz went right down the drain and she sobered up involuntarily.
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
“I think I would know if I hated you or not.”
He reached past her and turned the warm water up. It didn’t help. Her clothes were plastered to her and she was freezing. He worked the wet T-shirt over her head and threw it to the floor of the shower. The loud
thwap
of soaked cotton hitting tile distracted her from the fingers working the button loose on her shorts. “You don’t hate me.”
She turned her head and his mouth landed on her cheek. He trailed a line of scorching kisses down her jaw, then her throat. Her bra joined her T-shirt then his fingers moved to the edge of the white cotton panties. They were sheer against her wet skin.
He slanted his mouth over hers before she could protest. His fingers dipped into her underwear, finding hot slick heat and making her moan. Her shoulders fell back against the tile wall and she tried to catch her breath. He pushed the soaked cotton down her legs, holding her steady as she lifted one foot then the other. He kissed her again, pushing his knee between her trembling legs, the hairs on his chest and legs teasing her skin until her skin rippled in reaction.
She didn’t remember him taking off his clothes. She had no problem with it.
He licked the outer shell of her ear. Lizzie shivered, as wet on the inside as she was on the outside, but she wasn’t freezing anymore. He kissed his way down to capture one aching breast. He sucked the stinging peak hard into his mouth, torturing it until she was delirious. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she cried out with each hard pull of his mouth.
He kissed his way to the other one, his hands at her waist thumbs below her belly, holding her still, rubbing the sensitive skin and making it next to impossible to stand. Her hands bit into his shoulders but she didn’t try to stop him. She needed his mouth and hands on her.
Then his mouth moved lower as he dropped to his knees.
“No,” she whispered, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “It’s my turn.”
He smiled against her abdomen. “You get a turn when you sober up.”
“I’m sober,” she insisted, then groaned as his tongue dipped into her belly button. “I’m completely…oh, wait…” Then she couldn’t speak anymore. Not words anyway. Just his name.
His hands moved lower, his thumbs sliding down the sensitive skin below her belly to the tops of her thighs. She made a valiant effort to keep her legs together, but his mouth moved lower, licking her until she forgot all about her turn.
Her stomach contracted and she melted, knowing what was coming, what he would reduce her to, but her body blatantly ignored all the alarms going off in her brain. His thumb pressed against the inside of one of her thighs, opening her up for him. She jerked, trying to escape and get closer at the same time. He pushed her harder against the wall and took the rest of her weight with his shoulders while she tried not to scream.
Then he was there, his tongue licking across her before parting her trembling flesh with his fingers. He explored her with his tongue, lashing deep inside, finding sensitive spots and teasing them into a frenzy. She was dying.
His tongue trailed up to trace excruciatingly slow circles around the tight bud of her clit before sucking it into his mouth. The lazy rhythm had her breathing his name out or maybe screaming it but her hips urged him to speed up the torture. He chuckled and continued the slow, sanity stealing spirals.
Whimpering gave way to sharp hisses and tiny cries. He spun her up into a pleasure so sharp and so sweet she was sure it would destroy her but she would die if he stopped. The coil wound tighter inside her, sparking and burning what was left of her. Fingers invaded her swollen flesh while his tongue continued to torment her. The slight edge of pain cut the coils loose. Her eyes flew wide open and she opened her mouth to scream, then froze as his fingers crooked inside her and one endless heartbeat later, Lizzie broke free. Orgasm after orgasm assaulted her, turning her into someone mindless, weak and utterly incapable of stopping him from doing it again and again until she was no longer in her body. She was out there somewhere, radiant and free and flying into the sun.
Sometime in the next century, he straightened coming to his full height in front of her. His breathing was as erratic as hers. His hand cupped her face, his thumb pressing down on her trembling lower lip.
“My turn,” she whispered, or begged. She wasn’t sure.
His smile was slow and her eyes met his as his thumb pressed deeper into her mouth.
“I’m not drunk.” She swirled her tongue around his thumb and slid her hands from his shoulders, down his chest until they wrapped around the burning length of his cock. “At least not on alcohol and besides, you promised.”
“I did?” He gasped, his head falling back as she stroked him. His thumb left her mouth as his fingers curled into a fist and hit the tile next to her head.
“Should I get on my knees and beg?” she asked nicely, in the sweetest voice she could muster.
His body turned to steel right in front of her and for a moment he couldn’t speak. When he did, it was more of a growl. “You ever done this, Lizzie?”
Her smile was slow as she shook her head. A wild and primitive instinct took hold of him. She licked her lips. “You’ll have to show me how.”
“Get on your knees.” His words were little more than a growl, but Lizzie caught the unsteadiness underneath them and heat roared through her. Then he was pressing her down to her knees and she caught hold of his hair roughened thighs so she wouldn’t tip over. “Open your mouth.”
Her fingers pressed into hard muscles of his legs as he rubbed the tip of the granite hard erection across her lips. The swollen head was softer than she expected and her first taste of him went straight to her head.
“Open your mouth and breathe through your nose.” He teased her with another swipe, as his other hand stroked the top of her head. “I’ll do the rest.”
He nudged at her mouth, stroked her face and watched her with an intensity that speared right through her. Her smile turned sly as she kissed the tip, loving the way he shuddered. She kissed him again then traced the entire hard length of him with her tongue. His hand left her cheek and tightened in her hair. She wrapped her uninjured hand around the hard base of his cock and paid him back for her slow torture by taking her time. She groaned as he stretched her, gliding over her tongue, filling her mouth. Her eyes rolled back as she swirled her tongue around him.
Warmth flooded her at his sharp intake of breath. He breathed out her name, then curt instructions she tried to follow, then unintelligible sounds that may have been Italian or jungle cat. Lizzie wasn’t sure and she really didn’t care. Her curious nature got the best of her and she decided to find out on her own what he liked.
Because he totally lied. He didn’t do any of the work. Unless work was defined as intermittent growls and beating one fist against the tile wall over her head while Lizzie learned how to make him lose his mind. She understood every sound, every harsh cry, growl and hiss escaped him even though there wasn’t a single word in English.
He let go of her head and braced his other hand against wall. She took him deep, his salty taste filling her senses as she tried to find a rhythm with her mouth and tongue. She felt it roll through him the second she got it right and the power burned through her was intoxicating. He was all hers. She’d reduced him to his most primitive savage self, stripped him of everything except his need for her.
His hand caught the back of her head and he tried to stop her before it was too late. For a moment Lizzie couldn’t breathe as he touched her throat, cutting off her air until her eyes watered. After that he couldn’t escape her and his fist pounding against the tile was all the warning she got before she drowned in him because she couldn’t swallow fast enough.
And she loved it. Every primitive second of it and she wanted to do it again.
She let him go and he came crashing down next to her, his face dazed with shock. She licked her lips provocatively and almost laughed at the way his eyes fixated on her mouth. His chest heaved, but his eyes never left her. He couldn’t speak, she realized, and knowing she’d done that to him did something wild to her. Her whole body rippled with it.
She grabbed the mesh sponge and bath gel and worked the pear scented lather into his chest and arms and shoulders. He caught her wrist when she moved lower.
“Wait.” He groaned. “I need another minute.”
He let her wash his hair instead and it was impossible to say who enjoyed it more. He practically purred as she massaged the shampoo into his scalp with her good hand. Then she was in his arms, slick skin against slick skin. Arms and legs tangled together until they formed a knot she never wanted to undo. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and stared straight ahead. Maybe they could stay here.
Maybe the rest of the world would go away.
She sighed and smiled when he hardened against her. He didn’t make a move to go any farther. Instead, his fingers trailed lazily down her back until he whispered in her ear, “Beautiful girl, are you going to let me do everything I want to do to you?”
Heat sheared through her again and the throbbing ache between her legs roared back to life. She nodded unable to lift her head. She tried to protest when he stood, taking her with him but he kissed her until she slumped against the wall shaking and useless and ready for whatever he wanted to do.
“Good, because I have this fantasy.”
Wildfire streaked through her as he turned her toward the wall. She imagined all kinds of dirty things they could do in a shower. Before she could turn to see what he was doing, his hands were working shampoo through the long strands.
He was washing her hair? A thick wave of pleasure unlocked inside her.
“You have a thing for my hair, don’t you?”
“Yes, and if you ever cut it, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
He kissed her while the soap rinsed away. It was tender and searching and a whole host of other things she wasn’t prepared to admit yet.