Chapter 28 Eliza
Eliza
“Can you stay tonight?” Reed asks as we climb the stairs to his apartment, his hand warm on my lower back.
“Try to make me leave, and I’ll bite you,” I tell him, squeezing his arm.
“What about the goats?” He fumbles with his keys adorably, flustered.
I laugh and add to his distraction by rubbing his butt. “Eden’s managing both my mother and my beasties. I’m sure they’ll survive one night without me.”
The moment his door closes behind us, something shifts in the air between us. The playful energy from the party transforms into something hungrier, more urgent. Reed’s eyes are dark as he watches me pull off his tie, the silk sliding through my fingers.
“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me all night,” he says, his voice rough.
“Actually, I have some idea.” I work on his belt, my fingers brushing against the firm plane of his stomach. “You haven’t exactly been subtle.”
“Can you blame me?” His hands settle on my waist, thumbs tracing the velvet. “You’ve been driving me insane.”
Instead of answering, I push his jacket off his shoulders and start on the buttons of his shirt. Reed groans and reaches for my jacket, peeling it open with reverent hands.
When he sees me underneath—nothing but skin and the faint lines from the velvet—his composure completely shatters.
“Jesus, Eliza.”
He drops to his knees in front of me, and I brace myself against the wall as his mouth finds my collarbone, then lower.
He smells different tonight—cedar and lime instead of the earthy plant scents that usually cling to him, or the hay from our first time in the barn.
This is Reed in his element, clean and polished and wild with want.
For me.
His tongue circles one nipple while his hand cups the other breast, and I arch against the wall, fingers tangling in his hair. He’s methodical, using the same focused attention he gives his trees. I’m already close to falling apart when I tug him up by his ears.
“Where’s your bedroom?” I pant.
“Down the hall.”
We practically sprint there, shedding clothes and laughing as we collide with doorframes and each other. By the time we reach his bed, I’m in nothing but the borrowed suit pants, and he’s down to his boxers.
“Wait,” he says as I reach for his waistband. “I should mention… I’m completely healthy. Had my physical last month, clean bill of health.” He pauses, suddenly looking shy. “If you wanted to consider… intercourse.”
I burst out laughing. “Intercourse? Really?”
“What would you prefer I call it?”
“Sex, Reed. Fucking. Banging.” I kiss his neck, tasting salt and cedar. “And I haven’t been with anyone in a few years, so you’d be my first in a while. I have a birth control implant.”
His fingers find the tiny device in my arm, and he presses a kiss to the spot. “Are you saying we could have sex without a condom? Because I don’t have any.”
“Actually, Esther shoved a peppermint-scented condom in these pants just in case,” I admit, patting my pocket. “But I’m good if you are.”
Reed’s eyes go wide. “Your sister gave you condoms?”
“My sister is very passionate about safe sex. But like I said, I’m good if you are.”
I push him onto the bed and take a moment to really look at him. He’s beautiful in the lamplight—long lines and lean muscle, dark hair trailing down his stomach to frame his cock, which is impressively hard and stands straight against his belly.
“You’re gorgeous,” I tell him, running my hands down his chest.
He smiles softly at those words, almost looking innocent. “I want you so much, Eliza. It’s… unholy.” His voice is strained. “Is there a position you like?”
I bite my lip, suddenly feeling bold. “Do you care if I’m on top?”
He moans, and his hips jut up beneath me. “I can’t wait to see you on top of me.”
The want in his voice sends heat straight between my legs. I’m wet from our foreplay in the living room. Honestly, I was wet the moment he said hello to me in that suit. I straddle his hips, positioning myself over his length, and slowly sink onto him as Reed stares in wide-eyed wonder.
The sensation is overwhelming—fullness and stretch and perfect friction that makes my bones feel like they’re melting. Reed’s hands grip my hips, his head thrown against the pillows as I adjust to the feeling of him inside me.
“Move,” he breathes. “Please, Eliza. Move.”
I start with small rocking motions, finding my rhythm, watching his face as pleasure transforms his features. When I find the angle that makes stars explode behind my eyelids, I ride him harder, chasing that bright edge of sensation.
“That’s it,” Reed gasps. “You look so fucking beautiful like this.”
His thumb finds my clit, and the combination of his touch and the feeling of him moving inside me sends me over the edge. I come with a cry that echoes off his bedroom walls, my body clenching around him.
“My turn,” he growls, flipping us over before I’ve finished shaking. He hooks my legs over his wrists, spreading me wide, and the new angle makes me gasp.
“This is very un-saint-like, Mr. Nicholas,” I manage to say, and he grins.
“Are you complaining?”
“Hell no. I’m here for it.”
He sets a rhythm that has me building toward another peak, his movements steady and sure. I love him like this—savage and unhinged, completely overcome with desire. And it’s for me. For us.
I watch his body stiffen as he gets closer to his own orgasm, and I lick my lips, swept up in the image of him this way, knowing I’m the only one who will ever get to see this. When he comes, it’s with a roar I feel in my chest, his body shuddering as he spills inside me.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, both of us breathing hard. Reed kisses my shoulder, my neck, any part of me he can reach.
“I have something to tell you,” he says against my collarbone.
“If it’s about your stamina, I’m impressed.”
He laughs. “No, but thank you. It’s about tonight. What you did at the party.”
“What about it?”
“I was only falling in love with you before,” he says quietly. “But watching you work that room and pull a trick from your actual bosom… I know it now. I love you, Eliza. I love your goats and your ridiculous donkey and your ramshackle property with the best views in Pittsburgh.”
My heart does something complicated in my chest. “Reed…”
“I love your family and your tenacity and the way you see possibilities I miss completely.” He lifts his head to look at me. “I want to spend every Yule with you. Every holiday, every season. I want to build something together that’s bigger than either of us could manage alone.”
I cup his face, noting the stubble that’s grown rougher since this morning, the way his eyes look soft and vulnerable in the lamplight.
“I love you, too,” I tell him. “All of you. Even when you overthink and use words like ‘intercourse.’”
“Especially those parts?”
“Especially those parts.”
He kisses me then, slow and thorough, tasting like champagne and promises. Outside, snow is falling past his windows, and somewhere in the city, my goats are probably plotting their next escape. But here, wrapped around Reed in his warm bed, everything feels exactly as it should be.
“So,” I say when we break apart. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“Sexual intercourse. Make you breakfast. Call Eva about our new project…”
“Sounds perfect.”
“You realize this means you’re stuck with me now, right? Business partner, personal partner, everything.”
I grin. “Promise?”
“You’re not getting rid of me, Storm.”
“Good,” I say, pulling him in for another kiss.