Page 85 of Run
“Mmmm. You were saying …” She pulls back so I can’t reach her with my lips. “It’s just, I really want to straddle you, but I’m literally weak in the knees right now and can’t do it myself, so I’m going to need you to help me make that happen.”
I growl, lean forward, and grab her hips to pull her onto my lap, situating her legs on either side of me. Ari grabs my face in her hands and ravishes me.
And I’m a goddamn gonner. My dick pulses in my jeans as Ari leans over me, her hair blanketing over our faces like a curtain. It’s her turn to take what she wants from me. My hands rest on her hips as she pulls back again, nearly out of breath. “Closer,” she pants.
“What?” My breathing matches hers.
“I said”—she nibbles my bottom lip—“I want you to pull me closer.”
A groan slips out from me as I grip her behind the knees and pull her legs wider and farther up my thighs, then grab her ass with both hands and pull her pelvis right up against mine at the same time I thrust up slightly. “That better, Red?” She whimpers again. “Is that what you needed? A little friction?”
“Mmmm,” she moans into my mouth and slowly starts to grind on me.
Trailing a hand up Ari’s side, her ribs slide against my fingers as she moves her body up and down. She breaks the kiss to move her mouth to my cheek, my neck, and then pulls my earlobe between her teeth and I almost blow in my pants. Her sweater comes off and gets thrown to the floor, as does my shirt before I lean forward and kiss her chest, palming her breast through her bra.
“What …” I stop to kiss the top of one, and then the top of the other breast. “What’s going on here? Is that a bra with just one strap?” A mouthful of soft, peach skin gets sucked into my open mouth.
“No. It’s just, strapless bras are uncomfortable.” Her hips continue to swirl in my lap. “But that sweater has an exposed shoulder, so”—she cradles my head in her hands as I kiss her cleavage, still panting—“I tucked one strap in the side. It’s really not a big deal.”
“No, it’s not.” Wrapping one arm around her waist, I flip us on the couch so she’s on her back and I’m situating myself between her legs. The crutches that were leaning up against the end of the couch go clambering to the ground.
“Don’t stop moving, Red.” I grind myself into her, and she rises to meet me as best she can, circling her hips. “Please, don’t fucking stop moving.”
We continue to dry hump as our mouths go raw from kissing. I pull her knee up so her leg is wrapped around me, and just as I’m sliding my hand into the waistband of her jeans, the door to the stairs that leads to the rest of the house swings open.“Everything alright, Ari? I heard a bang and— Oh, God!”
I pull my mouth from her chest as Ari cranes her head to look over the arm of the couch, and shrieks, “Lars!”
I jump back from the couch at the same time she pushes me off and crosses her arms in front of her chest. Her head darts around looking for her top.
The man spins on his heel so he’s not looking at us. “Sorry!” He puts his hands over his eyes for added measure. “I heard a bang and I thought …”
I grab our shirts, toss one to Ari, and she starts shimmying into it. Too bad she’s got it on inside out and backwards before I realize that what I tossed her is my shirt, and now I’m stuck holding her sweater, which may as well be a pair of winter earmuffs for as well as it would fit me.
The man is still stammering as Ari pulls her hair out of the back of the shirt. “I’m, uh, I’m decent,” she says, then rolls her eyes at her own statement and puts her head in her hands as sheremains seated on the couch. She may be clothed, but her face is red and irritated from my rough beard. I make a mental note to trim it so the poor thing doesn’t end up chafing her face … or anywhere else.
The man slowly turns, hands still over his eyes, and spreads his fingers slowly to look through them. When he sees her “decent,” he drops his hands and turns to see me standing next to the couch, holding Ari’s sweater over my crotch to hide my weeping erection that’s trying it damnedest to break out of its denim jail. I give a tight smile and limp wave.
He's wearing red plaid pajama pants and a blue Buffalo Bills T-shirt. His unruly sandy and gray hair is sticking up all over the place, which isn’t being helped by him running his hand through it constantly.
“Lars, this is Ethan,” Ari says nervously. “Ethan, this is Lars—Larry. Larry Miller. My foster dad.”
Larry adjusts his glasses and looks me up and down, his eyes widening a little when he sees my exposed chest and stomach. He takes a half a step toward me, then stops. I take a half a step toward him and stop. He puts his hand out and pulls it back in. I do the same. Then he finally takes three full steps over to me with his hand outstretched. “Hi. It’s, uh, awkward to meet you.”
I take his hand and give him a firm shake, still covering myself with Ari’s sweater. “Sir.” I give a nod and look him in the eyes as I address him. “Believe me, it’s more awkward for me.”
He has the decency to look sorry for me.
“What—” Ari clears her throat and starts again. “What’s up, Lars?” She still has her arms wrapped around her, even though she’s now covered, as if she’s trying to curl in on herself and just disappear.
I know the feeling.
“Sorry,” Larry barks out again, taking a few steps away from me. “I didn’t realize you were entertaining down here. I heard abang and I, well … now I realize what it was, so, clearly I didn’t need to check.”
“Crutches!” both Ari and I blurt out, and she gives me wide eyes. “My crutches,” she says. “They were over here resting by the couch.” She points to the side. “But they fell over. That’s what you heard. Not, you know … I mean, we weren’t … Well, we were, but not—oh God, I’ll stop talking now.”
“No, no. There’s no need to explain yourself.” Larry folds his arms over his chest and looks around the apartment—at anywhere but either of us. “Like I said, I heard a thud and I know you don’t always lock the damn door, so I wanted to make sure no one was coming in to get us.”
“See?” I say to Ari, then turn to Larry. “I told her that’s stupid. That she should lock the door!”
