Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Amber
He pulls out slowly, the movement dragging a low groan from both of us. I look down before I can stop myself, my eyes catching on the base of his cock.
The knot is there—swollen, thick, and angry-looking—trapped inside the condom. It didn’t fully inflate, didn’t lock us together the way biology dictates it should during a true mating heat, but it’s substantial enough to make my breath hitch.
It’s a visceral reminder of what just happened, of the raw biology we just indulged in.
I turn my head away, staring at the stainless steel refrigerator, feeling a sudden flush of self-consciousness.
Eli doesn’t seem to notice my hesitation. He deals with the condom efficiently, tying it off and tossing it into the small trash bin near the prep station.
He puts his glasses back on and then grabs a roll of industrial paper towels and wets a handful at the sink.
“Come here.” He turns back to me. “Widen your legs for me, sweetheart. Let me clean you up.”
I lean back against the edge of the island, doing as he asks. I feel exposed, open, but the way he looks at me isn’t with judgment. It’s with a reverence that makes my chest ache.
He wipes me gently, the warm towel soothing the sensitive skin between my thighs. When he finishes, I reach for my panties where they lie in a heap on the floor.
I’m pulling them up my legs, snapping the elastic against my hips, when I notice him.
Eli hasn’t moved to dress himself. He’s standing by the sink, holding a wad of dry paper towels in his right hand, pressed against his groin.
His face is scrunched up, his teeth gritted, and a fine sheen of sweat has broken out on his forehead.
“What are you doing?” I ask, stepping into my jeans.
He glances down at his hand, then up at me. His cheeks turn a bright, adorable pink. “It’s… the knot. It went down a little, but it’s still… there. It feels weird. Heavy.”
I freeze, one leg in my jeans, the other half out. “Does it hurt?”
“A little. It’s just uncomfortable.” He shifts his weight, wincing slightly. “Usually, if we’re knotted, we’re locked together until it subsides. Since we used a condom and I… well, I finished fast, it didn’t fully engage. But the pressure is still there.”
I finish buttoning my jeans and walk over to him.
I’ve never felt this open, this free with a lover before. With Luke, sex was a transaction, or a weapon, or something he took from me.
I never would have offered to help him. I wouldn’t have cared. But looking at Eli, standing there vulnerable and flushed, all I want to do is take away his discomfort.
“Can I touch it?” I ask.
Eli’s eyes widen slightly behind his lenses. “You… you want to?”
“Yeah.”
He drops the paper towels into the trash, exposing himself. The knot is indeed swollen at the base of his shaft, red and looking almost painful. He leans back against the counter, bracing himself.
I reach out, my hand trembling slightly, and wrap my fingers around the swollen flesh. It’s hot to the touch, harder than the rest of him.
Eli hisses through his teeth, his hips jerking forward. “Fuck,” he grits out.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Do that again.”
“Okay,” I tell him, my voice dropping to a whisper. I begin to massage it gently, using my thumb to stroke the tight skin. “Does it feel good?”
“Yeah,” he breathes, his head falling back. “It feels really good. Your hands are… soft.”
I watch his face as I work him. His eyes flutter shut, his lips parting. He looks so beautiful like this—abandoned to pleasure, trusting me with his body.
I feel a surge of power, a distinct thrill that I can affect him this way. That I am the reason his breath is hitching.
I tighten my grip slightly, rubbing the knot with a bit more pressure.
“Fuck.” Eli shudders. His entire body goes rigid, his abs contracting.
Before I can react, a small spurt of come pulses from the tip of his cock, dripping over my fingers.
I freeze, my eyes snapping up to his face. “Did you just…?”
He opens his eyes, looking dazed. A dopey, satisfied grin spreads across his face. “Yeah. I guess… I guess I did. That hasn’t happened since I was a teenager.”
I smile, looking down at the mess on my hand. It’s filthy. It’s primal.
And I love it. I love that I put that expression on his face. I love that I am the reason he looks so thoroughly wrecked.
“Looks like I made a mess,” I tease gently.
Eli lets out a breathless laugh, reaching for more paper towels. “You definitely did. And I loved every second of it.”
He cleans us both up again, his movements slow and lazy. When he’s done, he helps me pull my sweater back over my head, smoothing my hair down with surprising tenderness.
He grabs his own shirt from the floor, shrugging it on, but he doesn’t button it, leaving the expanse of his chest visible.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his hands resting on my waist. “Did I hurt you? I got a little… carried away at the end there.”
I shake my head, leaning into his touch. “I’m more than okay, Eli. You didn’t hurt me. It was… perfect.”
“Good.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, then the tip of my nose, then my lips.
It’s a sweet kiss, devoid of the urgency from before, but filled with affection. It makes my heart flutter.
He pulls away reluctantly and walks over to the sink to wash his hands properly. I watch him move, admiring the way his back muscles shift under his shirt. He looks so at home here, in this kitchen. It suits him.
He grabs the mugs and the plate with the remaining cinnamon bun, dumping them into the sink. “I’ll deal with these tomorrow. Right now, all I want to do is focus on you.”
I bite my lip, glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s nearly eleven.
“Oh,” I say, the reality of the outside world creeping back in. “I should go home. It’s late. Maisie will be up early for school, and Jude will be wondering where I am.”
Eli turns off the water, drying his hands on a towel. He frowns. “You just got here. And we haven’t even finished the buns.”
“I know, but—”
“You should stay longer. Unless you want to leave?”
“Do you want me to leave?”
He tugs on my arm, pulling me back toward him. “No. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m not kicking you out. I just meant… you don’t have to run off the second we’re done. Unless you want to?”
“I’m not running,” I lie, though I can feel the old instinct to flee prickling at the back of my neck. It’s what I do when things get too intense, when I feel too exposed. I run. “I just need to get back.”
“Amber.” He waits until I look at him. Then he kisses me again.
It’s a deep, drugging kiss that makes my knees weak and melts my resolve into a puddle on the floor.
When he pulls back, I’m swaying slightly. “What was that for?”
“Reminding you that you’re welcome here,” he says softly. “Did you like the dessert?”
I smile, unable to help myself. “The buns were good. The other part… was better.”
He grins. “Good. That was the goal. I wanted to make your day better. Did it work? Even a little bit?”
I think about Luke’s voice, the cold knot of fear in my stomach, the crushing weight of inadequacy. Then I think about Eli’s hands, his laugh, the way he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world.
“Yes,” I whisper. “You made it better. A lot better.”
“Good.” He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “Then listen to me. Whenever you want dessert—buns, or otherwise—you just come by. You don’t have to call ahead. You don’t have to explain. You just show up.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You could never be a bother, Amber.” He holds out his hand. “Phone. Please.”
I hesitate for only a second before fishing my phone out of my coat pocket. I unlock it and hand it to him.
He takes it, his fingers brushing mine. He types in his number quickly, then hands it back.
I look at the screen. He’s saved himself under a new contact: Dessert Specialist.
A laugh bubbles up from my chest. “Really?”
“You did give me two bumps on the head,” he says, smiling. “And I gave you something to take the edge off. Seemed fitting.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I tell him, sliding the phone into my pocket.
I reach up, threading my arms around his neck, and pull him down for one last kiss. It’s slow and thorough, a promise of things to come.
We stand there for another ten minutes, just kissing against the industrial counter, ignoring the cold seeping in through the walls. I lose track of time, losing myself in the taste of him and the scent of cinnamon.
Finally, reluctantly, I pull away. “I really have to go. Jude will send a search party if I’m not home soon.”
“Okay.” He sighs, grabbing his coat from the hook. “I’m driving you home.”
“I have my car, Eli.”
“I know. I’m going to drive behind you. I want to make sure you get there safe. No arguments.”
The bossiness in his tone shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does. “Okay. Alpha.”
He groans, pressing a hard kiss to my lips. “Don’t call me that unless you want round two on the floor.”
“Tempting.”
We walk out into the night air. The snow has stopped, leaving the town blanketed in white and silent. I get into my car, the engine starting with a rumble. Eli climbs into his SUV, the headlights cutting through the darkness.
I pull out of the lot, checking my rearview mirror. He’s right there, following close enough to be protective but not so close that he’s crowding me.
Driving through the quiet streets of Fox Hollow, I feel lighter than I have in years. The shadow of Luke is still there, lurking in the back of my mind, but it feels smaller now. Dimmer.
Because I have a new number in my phone. I have the taste of cinnamon on my tongue. And I have a pair of headlights following me home.
I pull into the driveway, the tires crunching softly on the packed snow. In the rearview mirror, Eli’s SUV idles at the curb, its headlights cutting through the darkness, a silent sentinel watching over me.