Page 44 of Off Limits

“Pizza?” I’m fairly certain I’ve never had homemade pizza before. On one hand, I’m shocked Lochlyn knows how to make it. On the other, there are few things he does and reveals that don’t make sense. And this falls into that category.

“Mhm. With peppers and onions.” He remembers. I said it once in passing over six months ago, but he remembers.

“Well, I’m just the luckiest girl in the world.”

I watch as he kneads the dough. I love watching him work with his hands; it reminds me of how well he uses them on me. While he cuts the peppers and onions, I pay close attention, watching the way he works his knife, the caution but ease and speed while chopping. He’s comfortable in the kitchen.

As he stretches the dough to fit a pizza pan, I reach over and grab a piece of pepper, popping it into my mouth. He shoots me a glance. I lean over and grab another, which receives a harsher glance and disapproving tsk as he puts the dough in the oven. When I reach over a third time, he playfully smacks my hand, which causes me to grab a small handful instead.

His fingers are digging into my waist before I can react. Holding my prize between my hands, I try to fold in on myself, leaning into Lochlyn’s shoulder instead. I squeal and scream at the onslaught, trying to move away but also not fall off the counter at the same time.

“Had enough?” he asks, putting his hands on either side of me.

I nod, too breathless to answer. I’m acutely aware of how close his face is to mine. We stare at each other intently for a minute before our mouths are crashing against each other’s.

The peppers fall around us with hollow plops as I rope my hands around his neck and into his hair, parting my mouth for his as his tongue sweeps across mine. His hands rest on my knees, sliding up my thighs, pushing my legs apart as he takes a step closer. As his hands reach my upper thigh, he digs his fingers in, pulling me closer to him.

He smirks as his hands glide the rest of the way up, and he notices I’m not wearing any panties.

Everything intensifies and speeds up. I reach for his pants as he pushes them down, tugging me to the edge of the counter as he pushes into me. His fingers dig into my upper thighs as I wrap my hand around the back of his neck.

As my upper body tips back, and my free hand grips the side edge of the counter, I’m vaguely aware of the voice in the back of my head. It’s telling me I’m having sex, on the kitchen counter. Hard, fast, inappropriate location sex. Then I realize it’s probably what Chelsea would consider fucking. Lochlyn’s fucking me in his kitchen.

Who is this person? Where did she come from? I’ve gone from shy wallflower, shrinking at the gaze of guys, especially the gorgeous one inside me, to fucking on the counter and walking around his apartment basically naked.

The dreams I have about him have changed from sweet to sexy. Some sex had always been included, but I hadn’t known what it felt like. The sweet still exists, since he’s the sweetest man I know, but I can’t imagine that sex can feel any better than it does with Lochlyn. Even if it does, I don’t ever want to find out.

While the voice in my head is having a full monolog, my actual voice is making all kinds of pleasure sounds. Tiny beads of sweat are starting to accumulate on my forehead and chest.

Before I hear the voice tell me I shouldn’t be doing what I’m so clearly enjoying, the pressure that has been building with every thrust releases as my nails dig into Lochlyn’s neck, and I tighten around him, crying out loudly. Three more thrusts and a tiny moan rises from his throat.

He rests his forehead against my chest, my hand still around the back of his neck, as our breathing slows. I tilt my head up as he kisses along my neck and jawbone, ending on my lips.

“Who knew my girl could get a little freaky?” he asks with a smile on his face as he presses his forehead to mine.

All I can do is smile in return. In all the times I’ve imagined having sex, even with Lochlyn, I’ve never thought about anywhere other than a bed. But after that, I’m pretty sure I’d let him fuck me anywhere.

With one last kiss, he pulls away, smoothing down my shirt and adjusting his pants, checking on the dough in the oven.

“And look at that, the dough’s not even burned.”

I watch as he spreads the sauce on the cooked dough, sprinkling veggies on top.

“I can’t stay in here,” I say as I hop off the counter. His proximity and the way he looks while he cooks is too much for me.

“Why not?”

“Because I amnothaving sex on that counter again.”

All I hear is him chuckling behind me as I walk into his room. Pulling on a pair of panties, I dig my book out of my bag. Not really being sure what the weekend was going to look like, I tossed two in, just in case.

I flop onto the couch, leaning against the arm as I stretch my legs down the middle, crossed at the ankle. Sounds of more chopping come from the kitchen, but the pizza smells amazing.

Sometime later, I’m not sure exactly how long having gotten lost in my book, Lochlyn comes to sit with me. He lifts my legs, placing them over his lap. His fingers trace absentmindedly up and down my calves.

Glancing up at him, I notice he’s staring at me, a tiny smile on his face.

“What?” I ask, smiling in return.

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