Chapter 22
When I made it back, Eliza was sat up in bed, the sheet placed in a way that was definitely not helping my new-found commitment to keeping things more professional. Her tits were perky and seemed to whisper “good morning” as I walked in. I did my best not to trip up and fall face-first into them.
“Coffee delivery,” I announced, aiming for casual and probably landing somewhere around mildly unhinged.
“You’re a goddess.” She got on all fours — really not helping — and reached for her drink as I set it down on her bedside table.
“I was just lying here wondering if it’s possible to die from dehydration.
And also wondering if you’d run off home having realised what a terrible error you made last night. ”
Her words were light, but I knew there was an edge to them. I glanced up, brave enough to meet her gaze.
“Is that what you think?” If she said yes, I wasn’t sure what face I was going to pull. I didn’t regret it. But I knew we had to talk about it.
She shook her head almost before I’d finished my question. “No. Not at all.”
Okay.
Well, okay.
I took a steadying breath. We had a lot of things to work out. But we had all day. So long as Eliza put some clothes on, everything might be fine.
Emphasis on might.
She settled back under the covers, took a sip of her coffee and made a noise that reminded me exactly why I was in this mess. Then she patted the empty space beside her.
“You’ve got far too many clothes on. Why don’t you get undressed and come back to bed to have coffee and pastries.”
Pastries? Last I heard, we didn’t have any pastries.
But ever eager, Eliza jumped out of bed. I was learning she was very comfortable being naked, and that I was very comfortable with her being so.
She grabbed a basket of pastries I hadn’t seen before.
“Where did they come from?”
“Somebody just dropped them off.” Eliza lifted up a pot of yoghurt, and tipped the breakfast basket so I could see its contents.
“There are fresh croissants, pain au chocolat and those cute custard tarts I can never resist. Still warm. Plus, there are two scones with jam, and this.” She held up a mini can of squirty cream.
“Apparently it’s for the scones.” She gave me a flirtatious smirk.
My body whooped with delight and begged me to get naked. My brain, however, wasn’t having any of it.
“Eliza, we really need to talk about last night…”
But she was already crawling over the bed like a predatory animal, all long limbs and silky skin.
When she got to me, she got on her knees, and before I could finish my very sensible sentence about maintaining professional boundaries, she kissed me.
Properly kissed me, with the kind of thoroughness that made my brain flip the sign on its front door to ‘Closed’.
“This can’t happen again,” I mumbled against her mouth, even as I was kissing her back.
“Absolutely not,” she agreed, her hands already finding the hem of my sweatshirt. “Terrible idea.”
“We have to focus on getting the job done…” I added, although I was helping her pull the bloody thing over my head.
“But today’s Sunday, day of rest,” she whispered, and then she was kissing my neck and I forgot why I’d objected in the first place.
In moments, I was naked on the bed, with Eliza on top of me, eyebrows raised in triumph.
“You’re pretty easily persuaded, just so you know.”
I blew out a breath. “You’re very persuasive. Especially when you’re naked.” Her tits begged to be touched, but I was still battling with myself. I think she saw something in my face, because she held up both hands, rolled off me, and pulled me to a sitting position.
“Why don’t we have our coffee first, and eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. You made me work hard last night.”
“I remember it well.” I leaned over and got my coffee, deflated that she’d pulled back. I was very aware I was a mass of contradictions this morning.
“I met Roka outside. She was getting coffee for her and Sasha.”
Eliza raised a solitary eyebrow. “It wasn’t just us that got lucky last night, then.” She passed me a plate, then a croissant.
As soon as I bit into it, I realised just how hungry I was. Between the getting-on-stage, the courtyard, and then the very exclusive after-party, there had been a lot of drinking and not much eating.
Not of food, at least.
Eliza finished her croissant, then immediately reached for the pain au chocolats, and handed one to me.
I bit into it, and let out a moan.
“You’re irresistible. Do that again,” she told me. Then she leaned over and kissed me again. Thoroughly, purposefully, so that my stomach flipped, and I groaned louder than I had for the pastry.
Damn her.
When I opened my eyes, her mouth was still inches from mine.
“I know you want to talk,” she said, her gaze dropping to my lips without any pretext of subtlety. “But can’t we just enjoy this for what it is? Two people, taking a weekend away, embracing nature?”
I snorted. “This is embracing nature?” I gestured towards our boujee surroundings.
She shrugged. “We had sex in a fucking forest. That is enough nature for me.”
“You are full of surprises, you know that? You have been one person all my life. Annoying. Infuriating. Gorgeous. But then, I get you in this tent, and you become this smouldering sex goddess.”
Now I really wanted to slam my head in a door. Why the hell had I said that?
Eliza perked right up at that description. “Sex goddess? Please put that rating on my TripAdvisor.”
“I’m sure you score highly, don’t be modest.” I paused, glancing up at her. “And please forget I said that. My mouth runs away with me sometimes.” To ensure nothing else stupid came out of it, I stuffed the rest of my pastry in my mouth.
Eliza sipped her coffee, put it on her bedside table, then shuffled closer to me, shifting the breakfast basket to one side. My clit woke up. I gulped.
The darkness in her eyes, the intention in her face. I recognised it from last night. I wanted it so badly again.
My mind blanked as Eliza ripped open the last half of her pastry, ran her finger along the warm chocolate and smeared some on my stomach, then my nipple.
I gasped. I hadn’t been expecting that.
Then, with no pause, she got on all fours again — godammit, the woman was insatiable — and licked the chocolate off my stomach ever-so-slowly.
It was at that point I decided that perhaps she was right. We should enjoy this for what it was.
Plus, there was no way I’d stop her licking the chocolate off my nipple.
When she did, I groaned again, as she swirled her tongue around it, then sucked hard. When she pulled back, she made sure to lick her lips fully, her tongue hanging out of her mouth suggestively.
She grinned at me, reached behind her, and grabbed the squirty cream.
“In my own bed, I might not do this. But we don’t have to clean it up.” She shook the can and popped the lid. Then she tipped back her head, opened her mouth, and squirted some cream into it.
My whole body shook with want. Maybe it was the way her blonde waves caught the light, tousled from our night, or how her toned body flexed as she knelt on the bed, all casual dominance. It was like she’d flipped a switch, turning our old issues into this delicious game: her leading, me melting.
She shook the can again. “You into it?”
I salivated, then nodded.
“Open your mouth, then.”
The things that simple sentence did to me. It was just four normal words, nothing fancy. Yet, somehow, coming out of her mouth this morning, they transformed into something so hot, they burned the bed.
Eliza leaned over and squirted cream into my open mouth. It tasted deliciously sweet. I closed my mouth, letting it ooze down my throat, while Eliza placed her mouth next to my ear.
“Now prop yourself up on your elbows, and spread your legs.”
I nearly choked on the cream, as my mouth went dry.
But she was serious. I could tell from the look in her eye. Mischievous. Hungry. Like she’d won this round.
I took a deep breath as Eliza slid between my legs, and pushed them apart. Then she shook the can, and squirted a line of cream up one thigh — shit, it was cold — then the other.
Holy mother of the universe.
A pulse throbbed between my legs.
Eliza flicked her gaze to mine, grinned, then licked the cream off one thigh, then the other. Her tongue was warm and teasing, sending sparks up my spine.
The anticipation of what might happen next was almost too much to take. But I didn’t have to wait long. Within moments, her hot breath was over my very core, and I couldn’t pull my gaze away as she shook the can once more.
“Should I take a bite of scone first? Spread some jam on you, too?” The smirk on her face was priceless, a callback to our snarky past, now laced with lust.
“You can do whatever you like. As long as you put your tongue on me very soon.”
Eliza raised both eyebrows. Then she licked her lips, placed the nozzle over my cunt, then sprayed.
The sensation was like chilled lightning against my natural heat. Cool, fizzy bursts that made me gasp, the sweetness mingling with my own arousal.
“You like that?” she asked.
I nodded. “Strangely, yes.”
“This brings a whole new meaning to creaming yourself, doesn’t it?”
Then she lowered her head, and swiped her tongue through the cream, before she buried her face in me and didn’t come up for air.
Eliza was like nothing I’d ever experienced before in every way possible. She’d always pushed my buttons, but at least now she was doing it the right way, driving me wild with relentless laps and flicks that coiled tension like a spring.
I arched into her, as my fingers gripped her hair hard. The tent’s canvas flapped in a sudden breeze that matched my ragged breaths. She didn’t stop for mercy, even though the cream was long since gone, replaced with model’s own.
Her fingers dug into my bum cheeks as she pressed her face to me, her tongue and fingers working overtime.
When she curled herself into me and her tongue vibrated on my clit, I finally broke, thighs clamping around her as I came undone in sharp, shuddering waves, my cries cutting through the morning quiet.
I no longer knew who I was with Eliza, but I was just fine with that.
This weekend was showing me none of that mattered.
I could be whoever I wanted for 48 hours.
My orgasm still coursed through me when I pulled her up. She surfaced with a smug grin, lips glossy, and yanked me into a messy, cream-smeared kiss.
I shook my head as I stared into her clear blue eyes.
“How are we going to work together next week when I know you can do this?”
My phone beeping broke the moment.
I rolled over. A message from my sister, Katy.
What time should I pick you up today? Xxx
I frowned, then remembered. Margot was doing Sunday lunch.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“What’s wrong? That is not a happy face.” She rolled her face beside mine.
I shook my head. “Margot’s doing lunch today, and I forgot. Can we pack up quickly and get out of here? Sorry to bust the party.”
She shook her head, then climbed on top of me, grinding herself on my thigh.
I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath.
She moved her mouth to my ear. “I was kinda hoping I could get creamy,” she said, voice deep. “Then sit on your face and you could lick it off.”
Heat burned through me.
Now that was all I hoped for, too.
I pulled her face to me and kissed her hard.
“If you drive really fast, I can squirt really fast.”
She licked my neck from top to bottom, then snagged my lip between her teeth.
“I bet I can squirt faster.”