Fear of Falling(62)

I rinsed as chastely as I could and stepped out. Luckily, I was still alone, but I wrapped the towel around me hurriedly, remembering that the door was slightly ajar. I picked up the pair of boxers first. They looked brand new and were a good bit too big. Then I remembered that Blaine went commando, and I nearly choked on my own saliva.

Oh God. What if he slept naked? My bare lady bits percolated, and I slid on the underwear, hoping like hell that the loss of air would stifle the throb.

The plain white t-shirt was next, reminiscent of the tees he usually wore. I brought it up to my nose and took a whiff, savoring the scent of mint and spice absorbed in the soft cotton. I quickly put it over my head with the need to be surrounded in his scent. In that moment, I never wanted to wear anything else ever again.

I stepped into the still empty bedroom, unsure of what to do next. After stowing my clothes and shoes in a neat pile against the wall, I sat on the king sized, four poster bed, and pulled my knees up to my chest.

What was I doing here? This was all wrong. Too risky, too dangerous. Totally unlike anything I had ever done.

“Hey, you’re done,” Blaine smiled, stepping into the bedroom. He was freshly showered and damn delicious in only thin flannel pajama bottoms. I sat, staring, my knees still drawn up, mesmerized by the sight of intricate patterns and vibrant colors over smooth, hard planes of muscle.

“You ok, Kami?”

I snapped my gaping mouth shut and cleared my throat, nodding. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I’m fine.”

Blaine gave me a devilish grin, rolling the barbell in his mouth as he stalked towards me. “You ready?”

“Uh, what? Ready?”

“For bed. You ready for bed?” he asked, stifling a chuckle. “Like I told you before, Kami, I’m not giving it up. So please, stop begging.”

I rolled my eyes and snatched the comforter back to climb in. “I take it back. You are a creeper. A full on, eyelash-collecting, panty-sniffing, toenail-munching creeper!”

Blaine stood at the foot of the bed in stunned silence before erupting into gut-busting guffaws. “What the fuck?” he chortled between hoots. “Eyelash-collecting?”

“Yes, creeper. Eyelash-collecting.” I settled into the bed, and turned onto my side with a huff. Away from him.

“Awww, come on, baby.” I could feel the bed dip as he climbed onto the bed. “I’m just teasing you. Don’t get mad. If you really want me, you can have me. I swear,” he snickered.

“Argh! Shut up, Blaine!” I pulled the comforter up to my face, hoping to hide my amused grin at his playfulness.

The warmth and hardness of his body against my back erased all signs of humor from my face. He wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling my frame into his. I noticed that about Blaine. He wouldn’t come to me with his tail between his legs, begging for a treat. He pulled me to him. He made me want to melt into his body, making it known that he was in control and taking what he wanted. I loved it, and the desire to be somewhat dominated scared the living shit out of me.

His soft, warm lips were at my ear, his breath tickling my neck. “Do you forgive me?” A large hand dipped down under the covers and grasped my thigh, sliding upwards before stopping at the imaginary panty line.

“I don’t know,” I breathed.

His hand slowly made its way past my hip before easing under the oversized tee and splaying across my stomach. My head was swimming, and I closed my eyes just to keep from drowning. I felt him all over. The slide of his fingers along my bare skin, his rippled chest flush against my back, his lips teasing my ear, the large stiffness under his pajama bottoms pressing hard against my backside… it was all too much to take. Yet, I wanted more. I wanted to feel all of him, as I wanted him to feel all of me, inside and out.

“How about now?” The very tip of his tongue darted out and traced the shell of my ear. Then his lips were on my neck, gently nibbling.

“Mmmm. Maybe,” I replied breathlessly. Every inch of me was aware and prickly, anticipating what would come next.

“Maybe? Not good enough.”

The moment his hand cupped my left breast, my already puckered nipples hardened until they ached, and I cried out. I couldn’t help it. He teased and rolled the pebbled skin between the calloused pads of his fingers, pulling and flicking gently as if simulating a tongue. His tongue. I wanted it. I needed it. But I was just too damn afraid to say it.

By the time his hand had moved to my right breast, repeating the delightful torture, I was writhing against him in a slow rhythm. He matched my movements, stroking me through his thin pajama bottoms, letting me feel how ready he was for me. I nearly gasped. I had never been with anyone quite that ready before. I mean, he was really, really… ready.