Taking it from her with ease, I watch her eyes narrow as I grab the jug from her hand. “I’ll be right back.”
“Levi, you are not doing my laundry,” she semishouts, trying to take the bag from me.
“And you’re not carrying a bag of laundry as big as you are to the basement.”
“I don’t carry it down the stairs,” she cries, tossing her hands in the air. “I carry it to the top of the stairs, then let it roll down to the bottom.”
Staring at her in disbelief, I tilt my head back toward the ceiling, praying she’s not being serious right now but having no doubt that she’s done that exact thing each time she’s done her laundry. “What do you do if someone’s coming up the stairs when your laundry is rolling down?” I ask, and she presses her lips together before planting her hands on her hips.
“That’s never happened. I always make sure no one’s around.”
“I hate to point this out to you, but you are one of the most accident-prone women I have ever met in my life.”
“I’m not accident-prone,” she yells, and I lean in.
“You ran into me, literally ran into me, when you were running with your goddamn eyes closed,” I growl, and she bites her bottom lip.
“Fine,” she huffs. “You can carry it down for me, but I’m doing my own fricking laundry.”
“Fine,” I agree, hefting the bag up onto my shoulder before opening the door. Carrying the bag down the steps, I listen to her light footsteps on the steps behind me as we head for the basement, then mutter a curse under my breath when I see how fucking dark the room is where the washers and dryers are kept. The shit looks like something you’d see in a scary movie. I’ve never been down here, because I have my laundry washed and folded through a service.
“They need to get better lighting down here.”
“It’s fine; it’s always been like this,” she grumbles as I drop her bag on a yellow folding table near the door.
“It’s not safe.”
“The building is secure, Levi. Stop thinking like a cop for five minutes,” she says, opening the bag, pulling out an armful of laundry, and carrying it to one of the machines.
“I am a cop. Telling me to stop thinking like a cop is like asking a doctor not to save lives. This building is secure, but that doesn’t mean criminals don’t live here, or that people don’t give out the code to the door.”
“I give up,” she huffs, putting quarters into the slots in the top of the machine and starting it up before dumping in a cup of detergent.
“I’ll tell the super to put new lights in,” I say, looking at the one yellow bulb hanging in the middle of the room.
“Haven’t you ever been down here before?” she asks, looking over at me as she fills a second machine with laundry.
“Nope.”
“So where do you wash your clothes?”
“I send my laundry out. I don’t have the time or the inclination to do it myself.”
“They have that kind of thing?” she asks, and I smile.
“Babe, you live in Manhattan, one of the biggest cities in the world. They have laundry services.”
“Oh.” Her nose scrunches up adorably. “I don’t know how I’d feel about someone besides me washing my clothes. What if they’re a weirdo?”
“You don’t think that someone could come down here and pull your panties out of the dryer to sniff them?”
“Don’t say that,” she cries, looking horrified. “Now I’m going to have to sit down here while my laundry’s in the machine, because I’m not going to be able to stop thinking that someone is down here doing that.”
“You’ll worry about that but not about the fact that you could kill someone or yourself getting your laundry down here? Or the lighting in this room?” I shake my head, and her eyes narrow.
“I’ve been doing my laundry down here for over two years and nothing has ever happened, so I’m pretty sure I’m good, and besides that, until you came along, I had never been accident-prone. So maybe my sudden clumsiness is all your fault.”
“You did say I make you dizzy.” I grin, and she rolls her eyes.
“You are so full of yourself,” she huffs, picking up her jug of detergent and heading for the door. Following her up the first flight of steps, I watch her ass, then give in and toss her over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she squeaks as I jog up the steps.
“We’re getting to the good part of the day.”
“The good part?” she asks, and I pull her down until she’s in front of me and her legs are wrapped around my hips.
“Yeah, the part where we spend a couple hours making out.”
“Oh,” she breathes as I push open the door of her apartment, taking her mouth while I carry her across to the couch. We spend most of the day there, only stopping to eat and go downstairs to change over laundry.
Chapter 9
WAY TOO FAST
FAWN
Knocking on Levi’s door, I chew on my bottom lip in nervousness. When I left him this morning to catch my train, I hadn’t planned on seeing him again until after the weekend. But once I got to my parents’ house out on Long Island and walked through the door, all I could do was think about him being home alone tomorrow on Thanksgiving. My mom, who knew exactly why I was in such a strange mood, pulled me aside and suggested I leave and spend the holiday with Levi. I didn’t debate for a second. I kissed my family goodbye and got back on the train to come home. Only now I’m wondering if I should have. Yes, the last two weeks with Levi have been amazing—magical, really. But we are still very new, and spending holidays together is a big, giant step forward, even if we have spent every night in the same bed and under the same roof unless he had to work.
Hearing the locks click, I come out of my head and pull my shoulders back, feeling my stomach fill with nervous butterflies.
“Baby.” His eyes scan over me slowly from head to toe, like he’s checking to make sure I’m okay. “What’s going on? Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, I . . .” I pause, wondering what I should say, exactly, then figure the truth is probably the best place to start. “I couldn’t stand the idea of you being home alone tomor—” My words come to an abrupt end as he nabs my hand and pulls me into his apartment, slamming the door, pushing me back against it. My purse falls to the floor. “Levi—” My hands go to his bare chest as he moves closer, pressing his body against mine.
“You—” He pauses, searching my face, and I watch his eyes darken to a deeper, richer amber color. “You came back to spend Thanksgiving with me?” he asks quietly, and I feel my face soften as my hands move up his chest to his shoulders while his hand wraps around the back of my head and his fingers slide up into my hair.
“Yes, I came back to spend Thanksgiving with you.”
“We have no food for tomorrow,” he says, dropping his mouth to my neck, licking up the column of my throat as his free hand slides up the front of my shirt, over my stomach, stopping to rest on the underside of my breast.
“Th . . . that’s okay,” I pant, pressing my head back into the door as his lips, tongue, and teeth work along my neck. “We can eat out,” I moan as he pulls down the cup of my bra and slides his thumb over my nipple.
“No,” he denies, shaking his head. “I don’t want to eat out.” He licks up to my ear, making the space between my legs pulse. “I want to eat you.”
“Oh,” I breathe, closing my eyes. We’ve done a lot—I mean, a lot—of fooling around over the last two weeks, but he’s never gone too far and has always stopped before things could get out of hand, insisting I need to understand what giving myself to him means.
“You’re mine, Fawn, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate or try to deny it. I’m his, all his. He pulls back to look at me, and I stare into his eyes, which have become so familiar and so important.
“There’s no going back. I won’t let you go,” he says with a finality that should scare me
as his hand tangles more tightly in my hair, like he’s afraid his words will cause me to disappear.
“Good,” I say, meaning that sentiment with everything in me. I don’t want him to let me go. Ever. I know this is fast, but I also know the thought of being without him makes me panic.
“Christ.” He drops his forehead to mine, resting it there for a moment before moving his hands to my ass. “Hop up,” he commands, lifting me until my legs encircle his hips. Carrying me across his apartment, he takes me into his room and kicks the door closed. “Lose the jacket and the shirt, baby,” he says softly, keeping me in his arms. Working quickly I slip off my jacket, then pull my long-sleeved shirt off over my head, leaving me in a sheer dark-burgundy—almost black—lace bra. As soon as I drop the shirt to the ground, his mouth lands against mine and we’re moving again. Putting one knee, then the other on the bed, Levi walks us across the mattress, then lays me down with my head resting on the pillow. His mouth never leaves mine as my fingers run through his thick hair and my hips arch into his. Pulling back, he sits up on his knees, and my eyes rake over him. His hair has grown out a little over the last two weeks and now curls around his ears and the back of his neck. His eyes are darker and filled with something warm, something I know is only for me. His jaw is hard and grinding as he looks me over. Dropping my eyes to the expanse of his chest, the cut of his abs, and the deep V that disappears into his sweats—and the outline of his giant erection—my core pulses. He’s perfect.
“Fuck, I don’t know where the fuck to start.” His hand wraps around my neck, then slides down between my breasts, over my stomach and to my jeans, which he unbuttons and unzips, exposing the lace panties that match my bra. Sliding both hands up my waist, he cups my breasts, then pulls down the lace to expose my nipples to his gaze.
“Levi.” My hips lift, and I feel the hard ridge of his cock against my pussy through the layers of fabric between us. “Please.” He pulls my jeans down over my hips, then runs two fingers over the lace covering me before removing the jeans and tossing them to the ground. Putting me back in the same position I was in moments ago, his fingers slide back down over the lace covering my core.
“God, you’re already so fucking wet for me,” he groans, bending forward and putting his fist on the bed near my shoulder. I watch as his muscles flex. “I love that. I’m going to enjoy every drop you can give me,” he says, kissing me once more, deep and desperate, like he can’t get enough of me. Running my hands through his hair, I skate them down the smooth skin of his back as his weight presses me into the mattress and my legs wind tighter around his hips. Pulling his mouth away from mine, he licks, nibbles, and bites down my neck to my breasts, where he proceeds to torment me by licking around my nipples—avoiding giving me what I really need.
“Levi.” I take hold of his hair, watching him grin right before he pulls my nipple into his mouth, tugging hard on the stiff bud before letting it go and blowing a cool breath across it. Moaning, I arch into him as his fingers skim down my stomach, making my muscles twist. As he runs his fingers along the edge of my panties, I wait impatiently for what’s to come, feeling my body start to shake. The moment his fingers finally slide under the edge of my panties and down between my folds through the wetness he’s created, his mouth latches onto my neglected nipple and he sucks hard. My back leaves the bed, and my hands leave his hair to latch onto his shoulders. Digging my nails in, I hold on tight. Feeling one thick finger enter me, I arch farther into his touch and circle my hips, moaning loudly.
“Oh,” I whisper as he hits my G-spot. Then I moan down his throat as he kisses me and thrusts his tongue into my mouth, moving it in sync with the one finger that soon turns into two.
Pulling from my mouth, he kisses me softly, then moves down my body, leaving wet, openmouthed kisses along the way. “I want you to watch,” he says, and I open my eyes that I didn’t know were closed and look down the length of my body. I watch him as he opens his mouth over the lace covering my core and sucks hard. My heels dig into the bed and my hips lift as I grab onto his hair, needing something to keep me from floating away.
“Yes,” I moan, lifting my hips, offering myself up to him. He pulls my panties to the side; the feel of his wet tongue on me without anything between us makes the moment that much more erotic.
“Christ, you taste like heaven,” he growls against me, making me pant. Feeling him licking and circling my clit as his fingers work ruthlessly inside me, I know it won’t be much longer before I fall apart.
“Levi,” I cry, overwhelmed by the things he’s doing to me. Moving one hand up my stomach, he takes my nipple between his thumb and middle finger, twists, and pulls. “I’m—”
“I’ll catch you, baby, let go,” he says, and I do. I let go and fall over the edge, my body buzzing and stars dancing behind my closed eyelids. I’ve never experienced anything like it in my life, and I know only he can make me feel like this. Only he has the power to take me to the edge of bliss and send me over with the promise to catch me when I land. Slowly the muscles of my thighs that had tightened loosen, and my body relaxes back against the bed. He licks me once more, slowly, before moving back and pulling my panties down my legs, tossing them behind him before forcing my legs apart and settling his hips between mine.
“Let’s get this off you,” he says. Reaching behind me, he unhooks my bra and gently removes it from my shoulders. Then he leans down, placing a kiss to the tips of each of my breasts, to allow his weight to settle against me. Wrapping myself around him, I pull his face down to mine and kiss him, hoping that he knows what he means to me. Feeling his cock nudge my entrance, I lift my hips, listening to him growl.
“Please,” I beg, and his muscles tense and flex.
“I can’t do this,” he says, suddenly pulling away, and my heart begins to crack open.
“Wh—” I start to ask what the hell he means, but then he rolls us until I’m straddling him.
“I’m lost in you, baby.” He takes my face between his large palms. “So fucking unbelievably lost in you, Fawn, and I don’t trust myself right now. I don’t want to hurt you, so I’m going to let you set the pace.” I finally catch his meaning and feel his hard length nestled between my wet folds. Dropping forward, I rest my palms against his chest, watching his eyes darken with lust as they move over my hair, face, and breasts. “Fuck.” His head tips back, and his fingers dig into my hips as I move along his hard length. Watching the muscles in his neck and the way his jaw grows tight, I roll my hips, feeling myself become even more turned on. I love this power, I love that I’m in control—it’s an aphrodisiac of its own kind.
“Fawn,” he growls, tipping his eyes to mine, and there is no missing the warning in his tone. Biting my bottom lip, I move my hand between us and wrap it around his length, amazed that my fingers don’t come close to meeting. Holding him, I line myself up, rubbing the tip against my clit. My head falls back, and my free hand moves to my breast without thought. “Fawn.” He grabs my hips, and my eyes drop to his, feeling heavy with desire. Shaking his head, his teeth snap together as I slide the tip of him inside and slowly slide down his length, feeling him stretch and fill me. He’s so thick and long that there is a bite of pain with every inch of him I take inside me.
“Oh god.” My head falls back once more as I seat myself on him and his thumb sweeps over my clit.
“Look at me.” My gaze meets his as my body starts to buzz again when I see how hard he’s trying to hold back.
Moving against him, slow at first, I quicken my pace as his thumb circles faster. I’m close, already so close again. Moaning loudly I rock against him, watching his eyes flare and his muscles bunch. “Levi.” My body bucks as he sits up, pulling my legs to wrap around his back, locking us together. Holding me tightly against him, his mouth takes mine in a soft, gentle kiss that has my toes curling. I have never felt more connected to another human in my life—I’ve never felt closer to anyone than I do to him right now. Tears start to build in my throat
as we rock together, touch, and kiss. Holding him as tightly as he’s holding me, I come unexpectedly, listening to him groan as I do.
“Shh,” he hushes me when his fingers find my clit once more, and I begin to whimper. My body is overstimulated; every nerve ending feels like it’s exposed. Laying me back on the bed, he stays planted inside me as he wraps my legs around his waist, then pulls out slowly.
“Levi.” I lift my head, burying my face against his neck as he thrusts in, hitting something deep inside me I didn’t even know was there. My nails dig into his back as my heels fall down to his ass. This is too much, way too much, feeling him inside me, his weight pressing me into the bed, his scent seeping into my pores—all of my senses are overwhelmed with everything that is him.
“Fawn.” His fingers skate up my side, along the edge of my breast, over my collarbone before he takes hold of my jaw, forcing my head back. “Kiss me, baby.” He thrusts in, and I watch his muscles bunch as I run my fingers into the back of his hair and force him closer to me. Licking across his lower lip before kissing him, I watch his eyes flare. His thrusts become faster, more erratic.
“Oh,” I cry as he pulls his mouth from mine and drops his face to my chest, where he pulls my breast deep into his mouth. Biting my bottom lip to keep myself from screaming out, I cling to him with every part of me as I come, once more tightening around him. Letting go of my breast, his mouth covers mine, and he groans down my throat as I pulse around him. Panting heavily, we share the same breath, and I can feel his heart beating hard against my chest with my own. “That was—”
“Amazing,” he finishes for me, and I kiss his jaw, thinking amazing is the understatement of the century. What just happed was beautiful and life changing. Without losing our connection, he rolls us until we’re face-to-face on our sides, then his hand wraps around the back of my skull and he tucks my head under his chin, wrapping his other arm around my back. “Thank you for coming back to spend Thanksgiving with me,” he says quietly, and those stupid tears I felt earlier come back. Swallowing them down I nod my head, too afraid he will hear them in my voice if I try to speak.