Chapter 14
Elise slowly blinked awake and stretched, feeling the incredible sensations of Blake’s lovemaking.
Her pulse kicked at the thought of facing Blake again.
He’d awakened her later in the morning and carried her upstairs before placing her under her covers on her bed.
After kissing her thoroughly, he’d told her to sleep.
Though she’d had no intention of doing so, the soft down pillows and the warmth of the bed lulled her into a quick, deep sleep.
What woke her was the loud creaking of the stairs as someone ventured down them, and she knew by the slow pace it wasn’t Blake.
Flipping the blankets away, she peeked out her door.
The door to Rook’s room was open and so was the door to the shared bathroom.
She grabbed clothes and headed into the bathroom.
Inside, through the thin walls, she could hear Rook and Blake talking.
The quiet rumble of the men’s voices was quite clear.
She didn’t want to eavesdrop—Ha! Yeah, she did, but she didn’t learn anything interesting.
They talked about the food, and Blake reprimanded Rook for not eating.
He got on quite a tear about it. She almost felt sorry for Rook. Almost.
When the conversation went silent, she turned on the water and smiled at her reflection in the mirror.
Last night had been a wonderful experience.
The closeness, holding hands, sharing small details about themselves, and then making love.
She could feel herself blushing and turned away from the mirror that was now starting to steam up.
She slipped into the hot water of the bath and leaned back, luxuriating in the way her body felt. She was sore in the absolute best way.
How long had she wished for a man to sweep her off her feet?
To be decisive and take charge. Her entire life, if she were honest. She’d had to prove herself to everyone.
Prove she was capable, prove she had what it took to find the answers, prove that a woman could become a damn good investigative reporter.
It was sublime ecstasy not to have to prove herself when having sex.
She didn’t want to be in charge or to lead in bed.
Somehow, the men she’d been with in the past weren’t …
aggressive. As a matter of fact, they’d been passive and, quite frankly, mousy.
It had been so unsatisfying that she hadn’t had sex in years.
She frowned and lifted her fingers out of the water, counting backwards.
“Good God. It’s been five years.” She dropped her hand in the water and lifted her foot to use her toes to turn off the faucet.
Five years. Well, what a glorious way to break a dry spell.
When the aroma of food hit her senses, she sat up and glanced at the door.
Her stomach rumbled loudly. Time to get a move on.
Elise smoothed her hair as she padded down the stairs, the scent of coffee and something warm and buttery drifting up to greet her.
As she stepped into the kitchen doorway, Blake turned from the stove, his dark hair mussed, a spatula in one hand, and a devil’s grin tugging at his mouth.
Before she could take another breath, he was across the room, scooping her into his arms.
“Morning.” His kiss swallowed any chance of a reply. Heat, demand, tenderness were all rolled into one long, breath-stealing moment.
When he finally let her up for air, her knees were literally shaking. She put her hand on his chest and sighed. “You do realize I just took twenty minutes getting myself together, and now, I look like I just crawled out of bed again.”
“Perfect,” he said, smug as he set her back on her feet, before returning to the pan sizzling on the burner. “You should always look like that. Preferably because you did crawl out of my bed.”
She folded her arms and arched a brow. “You’re incorrigible.”
“True. But I make a damn good omelet. That balances things out.” He slid her a glance over his shoulder, eyes glinting. “Unless you’d rather I haul you back upstairs, and we skip breakfast.”
Her laugh came out husky. “I’m starving. And not just for you.”
He growled low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. “Careful, woman. Rook’s trying to pretend he can’t hear us.”
She danced out of reach of his hands. “Then keep your hands to yourself while you cook.”
“Not possible. These hands have a mind of their own.” He reached out, snagged her wrist, and pulled her close enough that she brushed against him. “See? Completely out of my control.”
Elise leaned against the counter when he released her, fighting a smile. “You’re dangerous in the kitchen.”
He kissed her temple. “Baby, I’m dangerous everywhere.” And that wasn’t said with a braggart’s voice; it was fact, and it made a shiver go up her spine.
A weak groan drifted from the table. “For the love of God,” Rook muttered, his voice thin but laced with snark. “Some of us are trying to stay conscious here, and all this foreplay is killing me.”
Blake shot him a look over his shoulder. “Eat your toast, old man. You’ll live longer.”
Rook smirked, though his pallor gave away his fatigue. He lifted his fork, then let it clatter back to the plate. “Empty. All gone. You know, I’d eat if someone would put food in front of me. Bullet hole, remember?”
Elise was already moving. She picked up the plate his toast had been on. “Here. Let me help before you waste away.” She walked over to Blake, who put two more pieces of toast on the plate. She carried it back to him and placed it in front of him.
Rook gave her a faint nod, a flicker of gratitude in his tired eyes. Then his smirk returned. “At least one of you has manners.”
Blake slid three perfect omelets onto plates, winked at Elise, and murmured, “Don’t encourage him. He’ll milk that wound for weeks.”
Rook’s quiet chuckle turned into a small groan, but he still managed, “Damn right, I will.”
Elise settled at the table across from Rook, watching as he pushed the toast around his plate before finally taking a bite. His color was still too pale, but at least there was strength in the set of his jaw.
She caught his smirk a second before he spoke. “So … the two of you kept me awake half the night.” He pointed at Blake, “Should I congratulate you”—then he moved his finger toward her—“or warn her?”
Heat rushed up her neck, and Elise nearly choked on her coffee. “Oh, Lord in heaven.”
He leaned back in the chair, eyes glinting despite the shadows of exhaustion. “What? A man needs a distraction when he’s in pain. You two were very … enthusiastic.”
Her jaw dropped, and she dropped her head to the table. “You’re not saying this. It isn’t happening.”
“Noise like that last night? Hard to rest,” he continued.
When Blake set a plate down beside Elise, she lifted her head and stared at him, but he just bent down and kissed her before telling Rook, “Say one more word, and I’ll take that fork and yank out every stitch I just sewed you up with.”
Rook’s grin widened, weak but stubborn. “Touchy. Must’ve been good, then.”
Elise buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God.” Would the earth please open up and swallow her whole? Could it happen? Please make it possible.
Blake dropped into the chair beside her, arm sliding possessively over the back of her chair. “Ignore him. He’s half-delirious. And jealous.”
Rook snorted, poking at his omelet. “Jealous? Yeah, you’re probably right.” He cut a bite, winced, then added, “But I’ll admit she’s prettier than the last woman you dragged into a safe house.”
Elise’s head snapped up, wide-eyed. “Excuse me?”
Blake didn’t even blink. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his low murmur for her alone. “Don’t listen to him. He’s trying to get a rise out of you.”
“Worked,” Rook said, lips twitching before he coughed, the sound rough and reminding her of his fragility. “Seriously, he’s never been with a woman as long as I’ve known him. That last thing was to bait you.” Rook winced and moved into a more comfortable position.
Elise reached across the table and put her hand on his. Her irritation melted into concern. “I have no doubt, and what happened in the past stays in the past as far as I’m concerned. Eat. Please. You need to get well.”
He looked at her hand for a beat, then shifted, removing her hand as he dug into the food with more determination.
“Fine. But only because you asked nicely.” His gaze flicked between her and Blake, the grin returning faintly.
“I think I like her. She’s got patience and common sense.
God knows someone needs it if they’re going to be with you. ”
Blake’s eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Eat, Rook. Or I’ll shove you in the car and push it into the lake.”
Rook pushed his empty plate away with a groan. “Ha, not your specialty. That was decent food. Not good enough to keep me awake, though.” He braced his hands on the table and levered himself up, pale and unsteady.
Blake started to rise, but Rook waved him off. “Save the hovering, mother hen. I can manage a shower, and then I’m crashing. Don’t burn the place down while I’m asleep.”
Elise rolled her eyes, and Blake growled, “Go. Before I decide to help you back up those stairs by dragging you.”
His faint chuckle followed him out of the kitchen, his uneven footsteps echoing until they faded.
Silence settled in his absence, broken only by the low hiss of the kettle on the stovetop. Elise glanced at Blake, who was leaning back in his chair, watching her, one arm hooked lazily over the back of her chair. The intensity in his gaze made her pulse jump.
“What?” she asked, heat creeping to her cheeks.
He reached over, brushing his thumb across her lower lip as if he couldn’t resist. “Just looking at you. Trying to figure out how the hell I got so lucky.”
Her laugh was soft, nervous. “Lucky? You’ve got a wounded man upstairs who thinks our love life is a spectator sport.”