Chapter 36
I knocked softly on the door because I’d given my keys to Elijah earlier. There was no answer. I texted him: Hey, I’m at the door. Again, no answer. I tried the handle. It was unlocked.
I let myself in and locked it behind me. “Hello!” I called out. “I’m home.”
On the entryway table were my keys and, beneath it, his shoes.
At the table in the breakfast nook was an open notebook with some notes about lighting and paint color next to an empty water glass.
I wondered if he was writing down ideas for the restaurant or something else completely.
The curtains over the windows had been pulled closed, but my eyes immediately caught on the plant sitting on the table between them.
It was very much alive. Green and healthy and the exact plant I’d had there before.
A warmth spread through my chest. He’d replaced my dead plant.
And his things were around my apartment and I loved it.
I’d never lived with a man, not once. Had never wanted to.
Nate stayed over a few times, but not very often because I got home so late most nights that it seemed pointless.
So most of the time I’d go to his place after work, which was the reason he wanted me to move in.
I was glad I hadn’t now. Glad I hadn’t given up my apartment.
I retrieved a cup from the cupboard and filled it with water. That’s when I noticed another one of my plants on the counter that used to be dead, now alive.
I made my way down the hall, same thing for the plant in the hall. The light was on in my room, and I started to say, “You are the sweet—” when I walked inside and saw him asleep on the bed. On my side of the bed—well, his side too. I smiled. Habits die hard.
He’d changed his jeans for a pair of green athletic shorts, and he wore a black T-shirt.
His phone rested on his chest, face down.
I wanted to climb on top of him and kiss him awake, but a shower was calling to me.
I was sure I smelled of food and sweat. I turned on the light in the bathroom and off the light in the bedroom so he could sleep better.
A damp bath towel hung on a hook, he’d obviously showered as well.
I quietly closed the door behind me and turned on the shower.
That’s when I saw the last plant, my shower fern, alive and well.
Green and beautiful. Its leaves were still beaded with water from the shower Elijah had taken earlier. That made me happy.
I stripped myself of my clothes, depositing them into the empty hamper.
I may not have cleaned out the fridge before I left, but I had done all my laundry.
The thought of laundry reminded me of the used cloth napkin in my purse I needed to wash, filling my mind with thoughts of the office and Elijah.
His body against mine, his groans of pleasure.
I stepped into the already-steaming shower. The heat felt good against my tense muscles. I wondered if there would ever be a time when my muscles weren’t tense. I reached for my shampoo from the corner shelf when I realized it wasn’t there. Only a single bar of soap.
“I knew seeing you naked would revive that plant,” the deep voice of Elijah said from the doorway.
I hadn’t heard the door open, but I startled a little at his voice. “You scared me,” I said.
“Sorry.”
“I was just thinking about you and our office activities,” I said.
“Those are very good thoughts.”
“Sorry I got home so late. Thanks for the plants.”
“It’s fine. I entertained myself by digging through your couch cushions.”
“I knew it.” I stepped to the sliding glass door of the shower and slid it open, poking my head out for a moment. “Can you hand me my shampoo and conditioner from my toiletries bag? I forgot to grab them.”
His eyes went to my boob that was now pressed against the glass. He reached out and ran his hand along the glass on his way to the counter where I’d moved my bag earlier.
I laughed. “I think you missed.”
He freed my hair products and walked them back over to me. I took them and stood for a moment in the open doorway, wanting him to not miss this time.
His eyes went to mine and he took a step closer.
His fingers lightly brushed over my damp skin, starting at my stomach and ending on my breasts, cupping them in his hands and rubbing his thumbs over my nipples.
Then, slowly, lowering his head to draw one into his mouth.
I’d made the mistake of not putting the shampoo and conditioner down right away, and now they were like cuffs, keeping me from grabbing hold of his hair.
A shiver went through me and he pulled back. “Get back under the warm water. I’ll let the fern enjoy you for now, but you’re mine when you get out.”
The shiver hadn’t been from the cold. “You don’t want to come in?”
He smiled and looked at the shower. “I’ve only had you in small places. I’m ready for more room to work.”
I swallowed and nodded.
“Can I stay, though? Watch? Is that creepy? That’s creepy, isn’t it? I’ll…” He backed toward the door.
“No! You can stay. It’s not like I don’t know you’re here. That would be creepy.”
He stopped right as he hit the threshold of the door and leaned against the frame with a nod.
I poured some shampoo into my palm, rubbed my hands together, then began massaging it into my scalp.
After rinsing, I repeated the process. This time, I let the shampoo sit for a while and took the bar of soap to my skin, rubbing it all over.
Was I doing it differently because Elijah was watching?
Absolutely. I was lingering, touching myself in different ways than I normally did.
My skin tingled under his gaze, under my touch.
I rinsed out my hair like I was some sort of swimsuit model, looking up at the ceiling, flaring my elbows, and pushing out my chest. I couldn’t even decide if I was being sexy.
I probably looked ridiculous. But when I reached for my conditioner and poured it into my hand, Elijah ran a hand through his hair. “How many steps are there?”
“This is the last one,” I said with a smirk.
“I’m almost done.” I let my conditioner sit as I turned to face the showerhead, rinsing off the front of my body.
Then I turned again and repeated the hair rinsing I’d done earlier.
I knew I was taking longer than I needed to with my thorough rinse, teasing him.
I wasn’t a teaser, but he brought out a different side of me. A side I liked.
“Get your ass out here, Sutton,” Elijah growled after another full minute of me rinsing my hair.
I chuckled and turned off the water. “Where is your patience?” I brought my hair around to the side and twisted it, wringing out the water.
Maybe I was taking too long to complete that task as well because Elijah slid open the shower door, stepped inside, and picked me up into his arms. He carried me out of the shower, depositing me onto the bath mat.
I laughed while he took a dry towel and placed it around my shoulders.
He used the ends to run along my face and neck, drying me.
I wasn’t sure why the act of being dried off by someone made me feel so cared for, but a warmth spread through my body, and I wrapped my arms around him.
I was still dripping, which soaked the front of him even more.
He continued drying me, taking the towel to my hair, where he ran it up and down a few times and then to my back.
After that, he was squatting down and drying my legs.
Then the towel was back around my shoulders.
“Do you want to blow-dry your hair or anything before I … what was that word you used in the parking lot of therapy that first day? Pound?”
I laughed. “Yes.”
“Would you like to dry more before I pound you?”
I probably should’ve at least run a brush through my hair, but his thumbs were digging into my hips and his erection was pressed against my stomach and my nipples were hard and I didn’t want to wait. “No, I think you did good.”
He threw the towel to the floor and lifted me back into his arms, not needing to be told twice. Then we were in my room, and he was lowering me to the bed and pulling the covers up to my chin. Then he tore off his shirt.
“Have I told you how sexy you are yet?” he asked.
I nodded, watching him undress. Maybe I was biased, but he seemed to do it better than most people.
Undressing, that was. I lifted the blanket when he was done, and he crawled under it with me.
My hands immediately went to his smooth skin, and I turned on my side to press my body against his.
He met me halfway, turning to face me as well.
Then he was brushing my wet hair back from my face and kissing my forehead.
“God, Sutton…” he said on an exhale. “You make me feel things.”
I pressed my hips against his. “I can tell.”
“No, not that,” he said, softly kissing my temple.
“I know,” I responded, feeling things way beyond physical as well.
I hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Maybe ever.
And that scared me. It was too soon. Too much.
Too complicated. Our hands explored each other as our lips softly met again and again.
It was so tender that I felt tears stinging behind my eyes.
I cleared my throat. “I was promised a pounding, not a sweet session with feelings involved,” I teased.
He laughed, then moved to his knees, grabbed hold of my thighs, and twisted me onto my back.
Then he yanked me toward him, my ass sliding along his thighs.
His hands gathered mine and pushed them up over my head, where he directed them each onto one of the metal bars that made up the headboard.
I held on. Then his hands slid down my arms, over my breasts and to my hips, where he pulled me even tighter against him.
His thumb traveled to the bundle of nerves between my legs and worked me until I was gasping for breath.
I planted my feet on the bed and pressed even harder against his touch.
And then, while staring intensely into my eyes, he rolled on a condom and slowly pushed himself inside me.
He went still, filling me up, savoring the moment.
I rocked forward, pushing myself onto him even more.
He moaned and that made me tighten around him.
He grabbed onto my hips and slowly pulled out, holding me in place so I couldn’t resist the movement.
I closed my eyes and whimpered, and then he thrust back inside me.
He repeated this several times, this slow, torturous movement, and then he picked up speed, slamming into a spot inside me that sent waves of pleasure through my body.
I cried out as the waves reached a crescendo. And when I did, he doubled his speed until he reached a peak as well, moaning my name. He collapsed on top of me, his face burrowing into my neck. I released the metal bars of the headboard and wrapped my arms around him.
“Can I keep you?” he asked, his voice muffled by my skin.
I kissed the side of his head, hugging him tighter against me.