Chapter 14 #2
I’m nearly flat on the mattress, but I don’t want to move. The only drawback of this position is that I can’t hold him. Too soon, he removes his hand from between my legs and withdraws with a groan. Rolling to his side, he tucks me into him and kisses the shell of my ear.
Now this is better. I close my eyes, getting drowsy.
“That,” he says on a breath, “was worth the wait.”
Cruz
I’ve had the best twenty-four hours of my life. It began in her kitchen, baking, and it’s wrapping up there too.
My legs are splayed to the sides, and Elodie is on her knees between them. Her glasses are on the table, and she’s got my dick deep down her throat. My brain cells are scrambled.
I can’t resist thrusting, but I temper it so I don’t gag her.
That’s about all I’m good for. The V of the zipper is pinching my balls, but I don’t care.
I ran home to touch base with Lane, get an update from him that I didn’t want to know, do chores, and grab fresh clothes.
When I came back after, she yanked me inside, flipped the dead bolt, and pushed me toward the table.
We fucked three times last night—this morning?—and I was hard as a fucking rock before my ass hit the chair.
I slip her cloth band off and tug the clip out of her hair, freeing those long, glorious strands. She looks up at me and hums again.
“Goddamn, you’re killing me.” I tuck my fingers into the silk of her hair. The most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
Another hum propels me closer to the brink. I’m balancing at the edge, ready to tip over.
I pump into her mouth, loving how she’s working my length. “Every time I close my eyes, I’m going to see the way you suck my cock so nice and deep.”
I don’t shut my eyelids now. I’m taking it all in. She’s enjoying this, or she’s enjoying my reaction, or both. With a swirl of her tongue at the crown, I’m teetering.
I have enough comprehension to warn her. “If you don’t want me to release in your—”
She sucks harder and I detonate. I blow my load so hard, it’s like it’s not my fourth time coming in a day. The heels of my boots grind into the floor as I shudder and jerk through my release. She swallows me down and fuuuuck. I’m never going to be the same.
When I go lax, she lets me go with a pop and wipes her mouth. “Finally. I’ve been wanting to do that.”
My dick lists to the side between us, happily exhausted. “Anytime, sugar. I just won’t be good for anything the rest of the day.”
“Good thing it’s the evening.”
I lift her onto my lap, and she curls against my chest. My flagging erection is sensitive, but her weight on it is better than nothing.
She brushes her fingers over my chin. “You seemed tense when you first entered.”
“Is that what your goal was? To relax me?” I could sleep with her here all night.
“No, it was more selfish than that.”
I grin and let my smile fade naturally. “Yeah, I was tense.” I don’t tell anyone about my dad.
When I was growing up, the teachers knew I came from a troubled home, but they never asked about specifics.
The older I got, the less they cared. My behavior was on me, not my deadbeat dad or erratic mom. “Lane passed on a message from my dad.”
She lifts her head, her concerned gaze stroking over me. I would never discuss this situation with my dick out, but everything with Elodie feels natural. She hasn’t run from getting a glimpse of the real me yet.
“He still wants to talk to me.” I stroke up and down her back. “That’s nothing new. But he wants me and Lane to know that anything we need, we just have to ask.”
“Isn’t he incarcerated?”
A dry, bitter laugh slips out. “Yes, he is.” I’m tempted to ask her how much she knows about the Colorado prison system.
She’s never brought up the letter from her ex.
But she’ll tell me when she’s ready, so I’ll go out of my way to be ignorant.
“From what Lane says, he’s flourishing. Where he failed on the streets, he’s succeeding in the rap sheets. ”
Her lips quirk, but there’s sympathy in her eyes. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I rub her shoulder. “It’s ridiculous.
He’s like a kingpin, or whatever the fuck they call the prison mafia.
Might as well make use of his time. He’s going to be in there long enough.
Which is a good thing. If he got out, he’d be looking for that same power, and he’s still got some youth to back it up.
He can spout all his family ties and loyalty bullshit, but I don’t want anything to do with him.
” I give myself a mental shake. “Enough about him. What are you doing the rest of the night?”
“I have a few things to get ready for tomorrow, but I want to eat first. Can I make you something?”
“Only if you want to. I can take you out.”
Fatigue outlines her smile. We didn’t sleep much last night, and she gets up at an hour that I used to party right through. “I should stay in and go to bed early.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. If you don’t mind me sleeping over again.”
“No, I like your sleepovers.” She gingerly gets off my lap. “Let me wash up and find a clean apron.”
I do the same, minus the apron, and grab my overnight duffel from the pickup. I set out a grocery bag of meat I raided from my fridge before I left the house. “I was taught never to go to someone’s place empty-handed.”
A surprised look crosses her face. “That’s really thoughtful.”
She’s constantly surprised when I do the bare minimum, and it’s humbling. I’ll be more than goddamn thoughtful. I’ll set the bar so high no other guy has a chance of reaching it. “I got all the meat you want.”
She rolls her eyes and smirks, but digs through the items I brought, picking out a flank steak. “Don’t you miss your house when you can’t be there?”
I’m about to say no, but she’ll know I’m lying. Earning her trust isn’t a one-and-done thing, and I’d like for us to be long term. I want Elodie to be it. I’ve never met anyone like her.
I have to start opening up more, delving deeper into things I’ve never talked about.
“That house is everything I never thought I’d have.
Even after I worked for the Baileys, that’s all I thought I’d be doing.
It was a huge step up, so I was happy with it.
To go from that to building my own home?
On my own piece of property? I enjoy my house.
I’m proud of it. Yeah, I miss it, but when things calm down, we can take turns with our overnights. ”
A shadow crosses her face. “Things never calm down, but that’s a good thing.” She lines up an array of supplies on the island. Some sort of pasta, leafy greens, cream. She digs spices out of a cupboard. “Can you grab the saucepan from the other side of the island?”
“The way it’s going, I’m sure you’ll be able to hire the help you need in no time.”
Her lips thin, but she begins seasoning the meat. “It should be soon. I have some . . . payments to finish before I’ll have the funds.”
“Mortgage?”
“That’s one of them, yeah.” She waves to the fridge. “Can you grab the butter?”
As much as I enjoy being her dutiful servant, I don’t want to drop the subject of help.
There’s something she’s not telling me about her financial strain, and it’s none of my damn business, but that doesn’t stop the hurt from worming its way under my ribs.
Doesn’t she trust me? Surely there’s someone she can turn to.
Does her sister know, or is there someone else she’s talking to?
I retrieve the butter and try to table my concerns. A few orgasms don’t mean she has to spill her guts. I’ve never been in this deep with a girl before, so what do I know about sharing secrets and concerns? I’m thirty-three and just learning how to be a good boyfriend.
What do good boyfriends do anyway?
Take her on dates. We’ve only gone on one real one. I prop my butt on the counter next to her. She’s got a couple of pans on the burners. “Can I take you out again?”
She starts to smile, then freezes. “I have so much to do to prep for the street fair.”
“I can help.”
“You’ve been doing too much. Any more, and I’ll have to offer you a benefits package.”
I lean over to check out her ass. “I’ve got some benefits in mind.”
She laughs and uses the back of her hand to push up her glasses. “Yes, to a date, but I don’t know when.”
I peer out the window. The sun is setting, but I can’t see much sky out of the back window.
She was up before the sun, worked all day, and she’s in the kitchen again.
“Sunday. I’m going to abduct you. We’ll go to the creek on my property and have a picnic—that I’m preparing—and I’ll come back here with you and be an extra set of hands on Monday. ”
The butter in the pan is sizzling, but she ignores it and glances out the window. A stark look of longing etches into her features for mere seconds before she looks away and it’s gone. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“Then it’s a date.”