Chapter 7 Bit
BIT
Iwasn’t much of a drinker other than beer or wine, but the situation with the woman now lying in my bed warranted something stronger.
I reached into the cabinet, pulled out a bottle of whiskey, and filled a third of a glass.
I plopped a couple of ice cubes in it, then sat on the sofa in the living room.
It was close to eleven, and as wired as I felt, I probably wouldn’t sleep much tonight.
I rubbed my left temple, again out of habit rather than because I felt a migraine coming on, rested against the sofa and thought about Eberly. While I’d said we wouldn’t talk until morning, when we did, she’d be getting an earful.
First, why hadn’t she put the alarm in “home” mode when her father hadn’t returned?
Even if he had, he knew how to disarm it.
Then, when she told me the kitchen door was unlocked, I’d wanted to march into her father’s study and put her over my knee.
As if she wasn’t scared enough. Showing her that side of myself would’ve terrified someone like her.
I leaned forward and put my head in my hands.
For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I itched to run.
It didn’t matter where or how far; I just had to get the hell out of here before I did something I knew I’d regret.
Like walk into that bedroom and show Eberly exactly what it did to me when she called me sir.
I was still rock hard and would stay that way if I kept thinking about it.
“Trevino?”
I sat up but didn’t look in her direction. “Go to bed, Eberly.”
“Will you at least tell me what I did to make you so angry?”
“I’m not angry. Now, go to bed,” I repeated.
I felt her walking toward me as much as heard her. Every step she took sent my desire skyrocketing.
“I told you we aren’t talking tonight.”
When she stood in front of me, I tried so damn hard not to look, but when had I ever been able to stop myself when it came to her? I found every excuse to visit the old winery, to spend a few minutes staring at her.
“Please look at me,” she begged.
Her words threatened to shatter every ounce of restraint I possessed, then when my gaze traveled the length of her body, I knew resisting her would be a losing battle. She still had on the same sweatshirt she wore earlier, but had removed her jeans, exposing her long, sexy-as-fuck legs.
My eyes bored into hers. “You’re playing with fire, little girl.”
“I’m not a little girl, and I’m not a kid.”
I sprung off the sofa as much as stood, stalked around the table, and backed her up against the opposite wall. I captured both her wrists in one hand and held them above her head before leaning my body into hers. “Is that right? How do you explain your behavior tonight?”
Her eyes were wide. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have called you.” She tried to wriggle from my grasp, but I held her in place with my free hand on her waist.
“That is the only smart thing you did. Not setting the alarm, not locking the fucking kitchen door, and not staying in my bedroom like I told you to are the things you did that put yourself at risk.”
Our mouths were close enough to kiss, but I couldn’t allow it to happen.
“How is coming out of the bedroom putting myself at risk?” Her voice was breathy and deep, her pupils were dilated to the point where there was no visible color, and her hardened nipples poked against my chest even through her sweatshirt.
Worse, I could smell her desire, and it was driving me mad. “I am not the man for you, Eberly,” I said, brushing her lips with mine like I had earlier. “I’m warning you. Do as I say and save us both.”
She raised herself on her tiptoes, dragging her nipples against my chest, and brought her mouth to my ear. “I don’t want to be saved.” She trailed her lips from there to the corner of my mouth.
I moved the hand holding her still from her waist to her neck. “I’m giving you one more chance. I’ll let you go, and when I do, I want you to march that sweet ass into the bedroom, and once you’re there, lock the fucking door.”
When I released her hands, she grabbed my wrist. “No,” she said right before crashing her mouth into mine. I angled my head and thrust my tongue between her lips that would soon be swollen from our lack of restraint. “Consider yourself warned.”
I grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt and pushed it up as she pulled it over her head.
“If you don’t get this off, I’ll tear it from your body.
Jesus,” I moaned, covering her bare breasts with my hands, kneading her flesh before bringing my mouth to one nipple, then the other.
Her whimpers of pleasure spurred me on, and when her fingernails dug into the flesh of my wrist, I thought maybe she’d orgasm from breast play alone.
But something felt off. I raised my head and studied her.
“Eberly, look at me.”
When she opened her eyes, they darted between mine.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
The shake of her head was almost imperceptible.
“Am I hurting you?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head. “No. That isn’t it.”
I put my hands on either side of her face. “What is it, then?”
“I’m, um, not sure what to do.”
Closing my eyes, like she had, when the meaning of what she was saying hit me, I looked up at the ceiling, then down at her.
“I’m sorry—”
I stopped Eberly’s words with a kiss, put one arm behind her knees, lifted her in my arms, and carried her into the bedroom. With one hand, I moved the blanket and sheet out of my way, then rested her body on the bed. “Take off your panties,” I said as I removed my own clothes.
When we were both naked, I lay beside her and gathered her near. I held her close, stroking her hair with one hand while trailing my fingers down her arm with the other.
“Trevino, are we going to—”
“Shh,” I soothed. “All we’ll do tonight is sleep in each other’s arms.”
When she took a breath as if she was about to say something more, I kissed her again.
“Sleep, little dove. I’ll still be here when you wake up. I promise.”
While Eberly eventually slept, I lay awake as thoughts raced through my head.
The first thing I should be considering was how to revert to a purely professional relationship between us after holding her naked in my arms, but I pushed that aside.
Now that I knew how perfectly our bodies fit together, there’d be no resisting touching her in every way she’d let me.
As far as her father’s whereabouts, the logical explanation was that he was holed up with the woman he’d brought to the ball last night. Except, why wouldn’t Eberly have thought of that?
My next question was who had been trying to gain access to her front gate so late at night and why had they left right before the sheriff arrived?
Then again, anyone with nefarious intentions would hardly call from the gate to be admitted. They’d sneak in some other way. A peripheral look at the Warwick security system told me it was antiquated.
After making contact with Eberly’s father, the next most urgent matter was the bank threatening foreclosure. Depending on the amount they required to delay the action, that should be easily solved. At least temporarily.
However, if the Warwicks’ financial issues were so bad that it had gotten this far, how would they come up with any sum of money?
While none of this was my damn business, Eberly needed help and she’d come to me for it. Regardless of how wrong a sexual relationship between us would be, I could still be her friend.
Right. Even when her naked body pressed against mine was a memory, I could live to be a hundred and never forget how good it felt.
She rolled to her side, so her back was to my front, giving me the perfect opportunity to relinquish my hold on her. Instead, I rolled too, leaving my rigid cock nowhere to settle other than between the cheeks of her pert ass.
When I opened my eyes, the rosy hues of dawn streamed in through the window and Eberly was no longer beside me. I sat up, relieved when I heard her soft footfalls outside the bedroom door.
Given I was typically a light sleeper, I was surprised she’d managed to get up without waking me. But hadn’t I slept better than I had in years two nights ago, when she’d soothed the pain of my migraine?
I rolled out of bed, pulled a pair of sweats out of a dresser drawer, and spotted her black lace panties lying on the floor.
“Fuck,” I muttered when the sight of them made me instantly hard—something the pants I intended to wear wouldn’t hide.
Instead, I grabbed a pair of jeans, not that they were much better.
“You’re up early,” I said, opening the door, then wishing I hadn’t. She stood in my kitchen, wearing the shirt I’d had on last night and—considering I’d spotted her panties—nothing else.
She turned around and rested her behind against the counter. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t.”
She looked away.
“What’s goin’ on, Eberly?”
She raised both hands and covered her face. “I feel like an idiot.”
I stepped closer, grabbed her wrists, then lowered them. “There’s no reason you should.”
“I’m sorry about, you know, last night.”
I grinned. “Yeah? Which part? Cause if it’s what happened in my living room, I can tell you I’m not.” What was I doing? Jesus. Every word I spoke was in direct conflict with my just telling myself to be her friend and nothing else.
“I’m not exactly the seductress I may have appeared to be.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “See? Even now, I sound like an idiot.”
I rested my forehead against hers and tightened my grip on her wrists. “Stop it.”
“I should, um, probably get home in case my dad showed up or shows up.” She looked up so I could see her eyes. “I really need to figure out what to do about our house.”
“Have you tried calling him?”
“It rang a few times, then went to voicemail.”