Getting Closer

Rachel lay back on the couch, feeling the cool leather against her bare skin. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, the hum of the city beyond her studio window a distant murmur. She glanced sideways at Liam, who was sprawled beside her, his arm draped lazily over his head, staring at the ceiling like he had nowhere else to be.

“So,” he said with a lazy grin, “is this couch officially broken in now, or what?”

Rachel chuckled, turning her head to look at him. “It’s been through worse,” she said, her smile playful. “But maybe let’s not test its limits too often, okay? I need it to survive a bit longer.”

Liam laughed, light and easy, not a care in the world. “Yeah, I guess we wouldn’t want it collapsing mid-session.” He glanced at her, eyes warm, open, like he wasn’t holding anything back. His casual nature was disarming, and she felt herself relax in spite of everything.

Rachel shifted slightly, sitting up a little and letting her hand rest on her leg, fingers tracing the seam of the couch. “You don’t get tired easily, do you?” she asked, half-teasing.

Liam shook his head, still smiling. “Not when I’m with you.”

The words came out so heartfelt, so sincere, it caught her off guard. He said things like that, without hesitation. That innocence—it was charming, but it also made her chest tighten just a little.

“Lucky me,” she said with a soft laugh, trying to keep things light, her eyes drifting toward the window.

Liam shifted next to her, propping himself up on his elbow. “Do you think people really ever know what they want?” he asked, his voice more thoughtful now. “Or are we just guessing, going with whatever feels right in the moment?”

Rachel raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question. It wasn’t the kind of thing she expected him to ask, but it seemed like he was just thinking out loud. She took a breath, considering her response. “I think most of the time, we’re just figuring it out as we go,” she said, her tone casual but honest. “You think you know what you want, but then life happens, and... things change.”

He nodded, “Yeah... that makes sense.”

Rachel smiled softly at his response. He wasn’t overthinking it, wasn’t layering his thoughts with worry the way she often did. It was refreshing. But there was also a part of her that felt cautious. He didn’t know what it was like to second-guess everything because you’ve been through a messy breakup or divorce before.

She stretched her legs, her foot brushing lightly against his. “And what do you think you want?” she asked, her voice teasing again, shifting the focus away from herself.

Liam grinned, shifting closer to her. “This,” he said simply. “Right here. I’m happy with this.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered. “Of course you are.”

“What about you?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “What do you want?”

Rachel paused, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the couch. What do I want? It was a loaded question, one she wasn’t ready to fully answer, especially not with him looking at her like that, with those wide, unguarded eyes. “I want this couch to not fall apart,” she joked, glancing around the room.

Liam laughed, taking the bait without realizing the shift. “Why not?” he teased. “I'd love to give you a reason to buy a new one.”

“It was my Mothers,” she said, mock-serious. “I can’t let it go to waste.”

He laughed again, leaning back on the couch, his body relaxing. “Alright, alright, I’ll treat it with respect from now on.”

They sat in that comfortable silence for a moment longer, the mood easy again, the heaviness from earlier dissipating. Liam seemed content, just being there - he just existed in the moment, and Rachel envied him for that.

Her gaze drifted to the sketches scattered across the room, the mess of papers and half-finished projects, the remnants of her professional life clashing with this intimate, quiet moment. She felt his hand brush lightly against hers, the touch casual, like he didn’t think too much about it, and that’s when she felt it again—that mix of warmth and hesitation. She liked how he made her feel, how easy everything seemed when she was with him, but every now and then, that little voice in her head reminded her of the gap between them.

“So, how many couches have you seduced women on?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him, her tone playful, deflecting from the weight she didn’t want to carry right now.

Liam’s grin widened. “First one, actually. I’m not much of a couch-seducer.”

“Good to know,” she quipped. “I can add that to my list of accomplishments.”

Liam laughed, then paused for a second, looking over at her with a softer expression. “You’re good at this,” he said quietly.

Rachel blinked, taken off guard. “Good at what?”

He shrugged, that easy grin returning. “Making me laugh. Making everything feel... less complicated.”

Rachel’s smile faltered for a second before she caught herself. She liked hearing that, but it also stung a little, knowing that for her, actually were complicated. She brushed it off with a chuckle. “It’s a gift.”

Liam grinned, that boyish charm radiating from him. “You know what else is a gift?” he asked, his tone playful but suggestive.

Rachel raised an eyebrow, her lips curving in amusement. “Oh? What’s that?”

Without missing a beat, he reached over and grabbed one of her large breasts, his hand squeezing gently as he said, “These.”

Before she could respond, he leaned in and kissed her nipple. It stiffened instantly under his lips, and she let out a surprised laugh, lightly pushing him back. “You’re impossible!”

But Liam didn’t let go. He latched onto her breast, pulling her closer as he looked up at her with big eyes. She glanced down, half-amused, half-exasperated, but then she felt it—his dick, hot and hard poking against her belly. Her breath caught as she realized he was hard again, the heat from him radiating through her skin.

For a second, she just stared at him, watching the way his lips teased her nipple, how his eyes looked up at her like he was daring her to push him away again. But she didn’t. She felt the familiar pulse of desire rising in her, mixing with the laughter that still bubbled in her chest. Her hand hovered for a moment over his shoulder, as if debating whether to pull him off or pull him closer. Then, with a soft breath, she let her hand slip lower, finding his cock, warm and hard, and guided him toward her.