Anxious Love (Love Sick #1) (11 page)

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Authors: Sydney Aaliyah Michelle

BOOK: Anxious Love (Love Sick #1)
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"Oh." I nodded, contemplated his answer. It was logical, but it wouldn't help Sophie.

"You wanted him to hook up with Sophie?"

"Well, no, but she doesn't deal with rejection well."

"No one likes rejection." He reached out, and I took his hand.

"How do you handle messy situations?" I stared outside, afraid to look him in the eye.

"Leah, come here." He scooted his chair back and pulled me toward him. I sat on his lap, and his thigh muscles tensed under my ass. His hand caressed my face, and I leaned into it. "There is nothing messy about you."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he pulled me close. I moaned as his arms held me tight, my body responding to his. I loved his physical strength; it contrasted beautifully with his sweet disposition.

I leaned back. "I watched more of your game tapes."

"Oh, yeah. What did you think?"

"It's crazy. Seeing you on those tapes, you're so focused, so intense out there, but here with me, you're so gentle, so sweet."

"Well, being this close to you." He shook his head. "The things I'm thinking aren't really that sweet." He ran his thumb over my lips.

I kissed the rough skin. "Tell me."

He blushed and grinned. I tried to convey some sort of strong, sexy siren persona.

"I want to touch you. I want to smell you. I want to lay you out on this table and taste you."

The sexy siren went out the window as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. My breath hitched. I waited for him to smile or make a joke, but he was serious. The playful banter put aside. I reached behind me and pushed the place setting to the middle of the table.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Do it." I averted my eyes. "Unless, of course, you're too full."

There was that grin. I loved all sides of him. His serious side, his intense side, and his sexy, silly side.

"I'm a big guy. I am always ready to eat."

I laughed but stopped when he lifted me as if I were a doll and set me on the edge of the table. His hands ran down my legs and under my knees. He lifted my legs until the soles of my feet grounded into the muscles on his thighs.

I leaned back on my hands and watched him. His face held a level of concentration I had only seen when watching his game tapes. He wrapped his big strong hands around my ankles and squeezed. His hands ran up my calves and massaged them. He kneaded my tight muscles with strong, smooth strokes, and then switched to feather light brushes with his fingertips. I flinched as his touch tickled my core. He studied my face and grinned as he continued to move his hands up my thighs, disappearing under my dress at first on the outside. Without losing contact with my skin, he ran his hands over my thighs and toward my knees by the sensitive flesh on the inside of my thighs.

I gasped when he stood up, pushed me farther onto the table, and spread my legs.

I leaned back on my elbows, holding his gaze.

He broke eye contact when he tilted his head and kissed me at mid-thigh. My dress gathered at my waist exposing my black lace panties. His fleshy lips nipped at the skin of my inner thighs making my body fully aware of his touch.

I sighed; he smiled and switched sides. Using his tongue, he ran down my inner thigh to the sensitive valley of my bikini line.

I tried to stifle a moan, but he nibbled at me with his teeth until I couldn't hold it in any longer.

My eyes grew wide when he smelled me. Pressed his nose against my skin, inhaled, and groaned. "You smell so good."

I swallowed and waited to hear and see and feel what he would do next.

He inhaled and then exhaled. His breath so close to my center.

"Ryan." I exhaled his name to remind myself to breathe and squealed when he snaked his finger inside the seam of my panties and pulled them to the side.

I expected to feel his tongue next, but again, he didn't do what I expected. He touched me, rubbed his rough fingers up and down my folds, spreading my wetness on my lips.

"What are you doing?" My voice low and breathy.

"I just want the first taste to be..." He leaned over and tasted me. His lips covered mine, his tongue probing, searching. He pulled back for a second and said, "Perfect."

"Oh, fuck," I said, surprised at the curse words rolling off my tongue as if a prayer.

"Oh, yeah," he said as he raised an eyebrow, grinned, and dove back in as if taking my expletive permission to continue.

He alternated between sucking on my clit and pressing his tongue inside me. I imagined a slick mess on the table below me as my body reacted to his kisses. He nibbled on my pussy lips, and I cried out.

I pushed myself up and away from him, but he tightened his grip and pulled me back as his tongue pressed deep into me.

The dishes clinked together as his tongue, so long and hard, probed my core, coaxing it open and rocking me on the table.

"Oh, God, don't stop." I hissed as I ground on his tongue. He reached up and squeezed my breast over my dress. I placed my hand over his and collapsed on the table as my body tensed.

The smell of chicken, lemon, and capers swirled with a distinct smell of sex in my nose. I clinched and stretched.

"Ryan," I screamed his name and a shudder started at my core and wracked my body, increasing in intensity as it spread out. I squeezed my knees together as much as he would allow and rode out the rest of my orgasm, digging my fingers into his arm as his hand clutched my chest. I held on for dear life waiting for the energy to dissipate.

Ryan squeezed the inside of my thigh and pushed me open. The air hit me, and I twitched; the look on his face as he watched me panting from his touch brought on another. He stood up and pulled me back down to the end of the table. He leaned over me, tilted my head to the side, and licked my neck. His mouth sucked on the vein, coaxing my heart rate to return to normal. He nuzzled my neck and whispered in my ear.

"That was fucking beautiful."

I whimpered and bit my lip. His words caused another aftershock to seize my body. I stared off, willing my mind to remain in the here and now. I felt the heat on my core, stirring my mind and body. I waited for something to pull me back to the anxiety-filled world I resided in, but it never came. Instead, I felt passion, heat, and adoration.

"Leah," he said, his breath hot on my cheek. "Look at me."

I turned my head and stared into his eyes. The bridge of his nose creased. He tentatively leaned down and kissed me while our eyes remained open. When he pulled away, my lips followed. I closed my eyes, and he dove back lips sliding his tongue into my mouth.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him down on me, loving the feel of the solid wood table on my back and his weight on my front, pushing me into the table.

When both of our breaths returned to normal, he stood up and pulled me up with him. He stared into my eyes as he straightened my now soaked panties back in place. He gave my pussy a little tap as he kissed me. He pulled down my dress and situated it over my legs.

My hand rested on his hip, and I moved my other hand, eager to feel the bulge in his pants, but he grasped my wrist and brought my hands up to his mouth. He kissed it and shook his head.

"Next time?" I asked, and he nodded. He helped me stand up and held me while I tested my legs. I wasn't sure if they were going to cooperate.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up?" He patted my ass. "I'll clear the table, and I'll meet you on the couch.”

When I returned, I found Ryan on the couch flipping through stations on the television. I grabbed my Saints blanket and collapsed on the couch next to him. He wrapped his arms around me, pulled me close, and kissed the top of my head.

I felt like I needed to say something, to explain something, to give him something else of myself. What we did, what he did for me, he would never understand until I explained it to him. That one intimate act answered so many questions I was too afraid to explore on my own.

I hadn't been with anyone since the night before the assault. My boyfriend at the time was the only other man I had ever been with. He was the only one who had touched me in that manner. Actually, no—no one had ever touched me like that.

Michael, my ex-boyfriend, was tentative and unsure, and I chalked it up to his inexperience. We were both young, and while I wasn't his first, it was all new to him.

The way Ryan touched me; he knew how a woman's body worked.

"What are you grinning at?" he asked.

"Like what you just did to my body isn't reason enough."

He chuckled.

"Actually, I was thinking it's been a long time since I did that."

"What?"

"All of it." I sat up on my knees, took his hand in mine, and rested it on my lap. "I haven't wanted to be touched like that in a long time."

"How long?"

"Like three years. I don't really want to get into why, at least not now, but I feel like I should thank you."

"Thank me for what?" He captured my face and pulled it to his. The intensity of his gaze burned into my eyes. His lips hovered over mine. "You coming in my mouth, screaming my name," he whispered. "I should be thanking you."

I grabbed his hands, and he kissed me hard. He had released me before I passed out from lack of oxygen.

I grinned; he pinched my bottom lip and grinned, too.

I crawled into his lap, my back against his chest, and pulled the blanket over us both. I relaxed against him. We both sat that way for the rest of the night staring at the television.

Neither of us had a clue what was playing.

Dinner was unexpected. Fuck, as soon as I saw her in that yellow dress, against her smooth brown skin looking at me like she wanted me for dinner. I wanted her, too. I showed incredible restraint, being the perfect gentleman during dinner. When she invited me to lay her out on that table and have her for dessert, I almost blew my load right there.

So why didn't I let her return the favor?

I walked into my apartment a couple of hours later to the sound of people fucking, and fuck, if it didn't piss me off. My cock ached because I wouldn't let it come out and play tonight despite the stimulating evening.

I slammed the door, and the noise stopped. Not usually a cock block, but I wasn't in the mood. We had OTAs starting tomorrow. I needed to get some sleep.

I heard someone cuss under their breath and then Daniel's door opened.

"Hey, buddy." He looked back in the room and then walked to the kitchen in his gym shorts. "What's up? I thought you were with Leah."

"Yeah, we had dinner, but I wanted to get some sleep tonight. Big day tomorrow."

"I know."

"I thought Kelly was in LA."

"Daniel," a female voice interrupted.

We both turned to find a naked blonde trying to hide behind the door and failing miserably.

"There are two of you." She giggled and put her finger in her mouth and stared at us.

"Mallory, this is Ryan."

She waved.

I waved back.

"I'll be there in a minute," Daniel said to her, and she blew me a kiss and closed the door.

I shook my head.

"Dude, don't judge. I'm nervous. Needed to work off some of this anxiety." Daniel chuckled and grabbed a couple of waters from the refrigerator. "We'll keep it down."

"Didn't you fuck around enough in college? You bring that to the pros, too. Aren't you ready to grow the fuck up?"

Daniel eyed me with curiosity. I sat on the counter and downed a bottle of water.

"Dude, you got something to say?" he asked.

"What the fuck? Stop calling me dude."

Daniel set the water bottles down and hopped up on the counter across from me. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't know why I was so pissed, but for some reason, Daniel's behavior made me angry. His carefree attitude got on my nerves. His ability to live his life without any regard for responsibility, guilt, or consequences caused that spot in the back of my neck to throb, and if he called me dude one more time, I was going to punch him in the face.

"Ryan."

I looked up.

"Why are you so pissed off at the world? We are supposed to be having the time of our lives."

"I don't know."

"This have to do with your new little friend."

"Leah." I smiled and then frowned.

"You like her."

"Yeah, I like her," I said, but from the tone of my voice, you'd have thought I said my dog had died.

Giving her that necklace, I thought was a simple gesture. After finding out she hadn't had sex in over three years, it felt like so much more.

Why am I the lucky one?

"Well, that’s great. What's the problem?"

"I don't know. She's different." I ran my hand through my hair and looked back at Daniel. He was picking at a scab on his elbow. "Never mind."

"No, what is it?"

"I don't want to get too serious too quick. I just want to take it easy. Hang out, have a good time."

"She's one of those clingy bitches."

"No." I laughed and shook my head.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I think she's making me into one of those clingy bitches," I growled. "I'm going to fuck this up, and she's fragile."

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