Page 52 of A Fighting Chance

I lift her leg up and palm her calf. I focus on my hands, on what they’re doing. On the benign places they’re touching. I rub the center of her foot, applying more lotion as I go. I switch to the other leg and then I work my way back up.

My hands freeze above her panties.

I could massage her ass.

No.

Yes.

No.

I skip over it in a hurry. I rub circles down her arms, then I squeeze her fingers between mine and press into her palms.

Touching Lyla is nearly too much.Everypart of her turns me on. Even her wenis. You know, her wenis. That flabby elbow skin.

I roll my eyes, thankful she can’t see my expression.

I loathe myself.

“What about my front?” she asks, her tone dark and suggestive.

Oh god.

I swallow nothing and manage, “Sure.” It’s the only word I can get out. I don’t even try for a full sentence. I lean away from her, letting her twist her body until she’s lying on her back.

She looks up at me, almost expectantly. Or at least I think that’s the look.

My eyes trail over her. I can’t help it. Her soft, pink nipples are perfect. The curve of her breasts, the lines of her ribs. Her hip bones. Her hair is tossed all over, some of it spilling over the front of her shoulders, so I reach for it, tucking the loose strands back and involuntarily inhaling her scent.

Honeysuckles.

She smells like honeysuckles.

Even after everything that’s transpired between us, I can tell she wants to cover herself. So, I take her arms and tuck them up above her, trailing my fingers back down her arm and into the dip at the front of her neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper.

Lyla tries to shift her eyes away from my gaze.

“Hey, look at me,” I demand softly.

She stares back at me then, waiting.

“You are so beautiful, inside and out. And it’s taking every ounce of self-restraint I have not to do bad things to you right now,” I tell her.

She takes in my words and I watch her swallow, clearly unsure as to what she should do.

“Kiss me,” she finally says, more command than question, but I hesitate. “Please.”

And that’s all it takes. The word “please” from her lips and I’m a goner.

I lower myself down to her, still careful not to put any of my weight on her. My mouth is just an inch or so from hers, and I can feel her body anticipating it. The air becomes thick, her mouth drawing me in.

I’m a lost sailor and she’s my lighthouse.

I press my lips to hers. It’s innocent at first. Then her lips part, inviting me in. My tongue licks at hers. I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and bite down a little. My entire body is on fire now, desire spilling out from all my edges. I sink down onto her, her tits pressing against my bare chest, and I wrap my arms around her then roll us onto our sides.

We make out like this, my grip tight around her.

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