Cocky Savior: A Hero Club Novel

by Jane Blythe

  Today was a good day.

  * * * * *

  6:13 P.M.

  “Hi.” Florence wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him hard on the mouth, then put her arms around his waist, and rested her head on his shoulder.

  Since she wasn't often the one to initiate intimacy like that, Eli felt his heart soar. Bit by bit, the more time they spent together, the more he proved to her that she had nothing to fear as far as he was concerned, the more she lowered her guard and let him in.

  “I missed you today,” Florence continued.

  She missed him.

  Those three little words meant more to him than he’d thought they would.

  In a way, it was better than hearing that she loved him because he could already see in her face, deep in her eyes where she tried to hide it, that she was falling in love with him. But to know that she missed him, that she was thinking about him when they weren't together, that he wasn't the only one consumed by what was growing between them made it feel that much more real.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Florence tilted her head up to look at him. “I've never known you to be so quiet.”

  “Just happy.” Eli smiled down at her, then couldn’t resist capturing her lips in a kiss that would have gone a whole lot further if they weren't standing outside the precinct on a busy street.

  “I am too,” she said with a look on her face that said she was both surprised and pleased with this development. “Where are we going tonight? Did you get us reservations at some fancy restaurant? Do we need to stop by my place so I can change into something else?”

  This chatterbox side of Florence was something he wasn't used to, and something he was sure that most people didn't get to see. That she was relaxed around him now, comfortable with public displays of affection and easy teasing, made him feel much more secure in their relationship, and that he had made the right decision when he’d put in an order for a custom made engagement ring.

  “Actually, what you're wearing is fine.”

  She looked down at herself. “Jeans and a sweater is okay for wherever we’re going?”

  “It’s perfect, no one will mind what you're wearing.”

  “Well, now I'm intrigued.”

  “Good.” He ruffled her hair, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and led her to the car.

  “So,” she drew the word out, “care to enlighten me as to our plans for this evening?”

  “Nope.”

  “Nope?”

  “It’s a surprise,” he informed her as he opened the car door for her and then slid onto the back seat once she’d gotten in.

  “You should know that I'm not crazy about surprises.” Florence shot him a dubious look as she buckled up.

  “Relax, you’ll like it. I promise,” he added when she still didn't look convinced.

  “If you say so,” she muttered under her breath.

  “You know you're cute when you pout like that.”

  “Cute?” She made a face. “I'm twenty-seven, way too old to be cute.”

  “Wrong, I think you're adorable. Sexy too.” He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her face to meet his. When he kissed her, he took things slow, letting his tongue explore every inch of her mouth, tasting her and wondering what the rest of her tasted like. He couldn’t wait to have her naked, and in his bed, he was going to taste every inch of her sweet body before he buried himself so deep inside of her it would seal their connection forever.

  By the time he finally broke away they were both breathing heavily, and if he wasn't serious about what he’d planned for them tonight, then he would have asked his driver to take them straight back to his hotel room or to his penthouse. But this was something he really wanted to do.

  “How’s your head?” he asked as they turned into Eighth Avenue. His finger softly traced the lump on her temple.

  “Much better. Although, I'd say it was still awful if it means you’ll make me more of that amazing soup.”

  “You don’t have to be sick for me to cook for you.” Eli kissed the tip of her nose. “And if you love the soup, then you're going to love it when we move in together, and you get to come home to my cooking every night.”

  A flash of uncertainty washed over her features, but he saw her resolutely push it away and smile at him. “Since I'm not much of a chef, I definitely will.”

  Score.

  He’d wondered how she’d reacted when he so blatantly told her where he saw things going between them. She shouldn’t be surprised though, he’d been upfront with her from the beginning. Florence called it cocky, but to him it was just recognizing what you wanted and going for it.

  “We’re here,” he said as the car came to a stop.

  “And where is here?” she asked as they both climbed out of the car.

  “Here is Tig’s Tattoo and Piercing,” he replied.

  “A tattoo parlor?” Her nose scrunched up in an adorably confused look. “This is where you’re bringing me for a date? You want me to get a tattoo?”

  “Nope. I'm the one who’ll be getting the tattoo. My first tattoo in fact.”

  “Oh?” Now she arched a surprised brow. “Playboy that you are, I would have guessed you had at least one.”

  “Never really saw the appeal. Not until I saw yours anyway.” Eli took her hand and led her inside the tattoo parlor. His gaze immediately went to the large tattooed man sitting on a stool by the desk. “Tig, I presume.”

  “Mr. Lennox?”

  “That’s me.”

  “And your lovely lady is?”

  “I'm Florence,” she said, holding out her hand to shake his.

  “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. You both getting tats?”

  “Actually, the design I asked about when I called you earlier, it’s a replica of one that Florence already has,” Eli explained.

  “It is?” Florence looked up at him wide-eyed.

  “You got the design?” Eli asked Tig.

  “Right here.” The man handed over a piece of paper. “This what you wanted?”

  “Perfect,” he said when he saw the drawing of the branch of cherry blossoms. Turning to Florence, he took hold of her wrist, slid her sweater up her arm, and exposed her stunning tattoo. “This wasn't just something you got to cover up the scar, was it?”

  Florence shook her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I did get it to cover the scar, but it was more than that. I wanted something that symbolized how I felt about what happened to me. I researched meanings of flowers because I thought that would be something pretty, and I came across cherry blossoms. They symbolize hope, new beginnings, as in Japan they bloom at the start of a new year. They also symbolize the transient nature of life. Beautiful things pass away, nothing ever lasts forever. That’s how I was feeling back then. I was eighteen, I’d survived something that should have killed me, and I was finally able to escape the life I'd always hated and build something new, something better. I felt like the cherry blossoms symbolized the younger, more innocent me. I lost that, and that scar was the reason why, but it was also the reason why I was still alive. I wanted to incorporate it into the design because that scar made me the person I am today.”

  “I saw this the night that we first met, the next day I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I researched what it meant. Even though I didn't know why you’d chosen it, and I didn't understand its significance in your life, I knew it was something important to you.” He skimmed the beautiful image of delicate pink blossoms, Florence’s skin every bit as soft and silky as real cherry blossoms would be. “Mono-no aware, it’s a Japanese saying for the awareness of impermanence. It acknowledges the bittersweet feelings you have of seeing how wonderful life can be and realizing that those moments don’t last forever. We can be both saddened by and appreciative of the idea that life is transient. I wanted to add that to my tattoo because it symbolizes how I feel about losing my family. As deep as the loss hits me I wouldn’t have given up the moments I shared wi
th them for anything. The pain is worth the payoff of the years I spent with my parents and brother.”

  Big, round teardrops balanced on Florence’s long lashes, her hands lifted and rested against his chest. “That’s really beautiful, Eli. Underneath all this cocky, laidback exterior you like everyone to see, lies such a big heart. I want to get that saying added to my tattoo. It’s poignant and beautiful in a melancholy sort of way, and it’s something I want to be reminded of moving forward.”

  Eli rested his forehead against hers. “You’re something special, you know that? You’ve endured so much, yet you're so beautiful, so strong and resilient, you make me want to be a better person, stronger and more compassionate.” Feathering his lips across hers, Eli kissed her and then straightened and said to the tattooist who was watching them with interest. “Looks like we’re both getting tats after all.”

  * * * * *

  10:40 P.M.

  Where had the evening gone?

  It felt like it was just a couple of minutes ago that she’d stepped out of the precinct to find him waiting for her, and yet a glance at her watch told her that four and a half hours had flown by.

  This date had been perfect, just her kind of thing, she’d sat and watched while Eli got his tattoo, then had the same Japanese saying added to hers, then they’d eaten burgers and fries in the back of his car as they’d driven back to her place.

  Now the date was over, and it was time to say goodnight.

  Only she didn't want to.

  She didn't want him to go.

  Opening up to him this morning had been cathartic in a way she hadn't envisioned. Florence didn't like to talk about herself and the messed up stuff she’d lived through. Nearly dying at only eight years old had been made so much worse by the fact that she had no one but her ten-year-old brother to try to help her deal with the fallout. And what had happened when she was sixteen she had never told a single living soul, just wept, curled up in a ball, on the mattress on the floor that was her bed, before she went to sleep every night.

  Having someone know the darkness that had touched her had always seemed terrifying, but somehow, having it be Eli who knew made it okay.

  Better than okay, actually.

  It had given her a peace that she hadn't felt before because finally—finally—she wasn't alone anymore.

  “Million for your thoughts?”

  She looked up to see Eli looking down at her, a tender smile on his face. “I think the saying is ‘penny for your thoughts’.”

  “I know, but I have to live up to my reputation sometimes.” He winked. “What has you so quiet and lost in thought?”

  “Just thinking about you, about us.” Worry creased his brow. “These worry lines belie your cocky reputation,” she teased, reaching up to smooth the lines away. “You don’t need to be all concerned, I wasn't thinking anything bad, I was just thinking that I want you to come upstairs with me when we get to my apartment.”

  “Florence, we don’t have to do anything. I didn't come up with the tattoo idea to try to impress you and get you into bed, I did it because I wanted to, because it made me feel closer to you, like I was sharing in your past and the journey it’s taken you on.”

  “Shh.” She pressed her finger to his lips to silence him, and then replaced her finger with her lips. “I want you to come up.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Are you going to treat me like a china doll because you know about what happened to me?” She arched a challenging brow. She didn't want Eli knowing that she was a victim of sexual assault to change how he saw her. “Because before you knew about that you were all for the two of us having sex.”

  “You're not a china doll, but you are mine, and I worry about you.”

  “I'm yours?” Her arched brow reached almost to her hairline.

  “Not in a possession kind of way.” He chuckled. “You're mine because I care about you, and I'm never letting you go. That’s why I have this inked on my skin.” He held up his arm where a white bandage covered the new tattoo. “It’s not a male thing, I'm yours too,” he added, brushing his lips across hers.

  Florence caught his face between her hands when he would have ended the kiss and deepened it. That he wanted to join her on her ongoing journey to put what she’d been through behind her only made him more attractive. She was falling for him, hard and fast, and she was done fighting it.

  She was finally there, in that place she thought she'd never arrive at, she was ready to move on.

  She was ready to be happy.

  “Come upstairs with me, Eli,” she whispered against his lips. “I want you, I want this, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

  “Princess, you better be certain because you say that again, and I'm not going to be able to resist you.”

  “I want you, Eli, more than I've ever wanted anything else,” she goaded him because she wanted him to lose control and see her as a strong, capable woman, not the terrified, traumatized kid she’d been. She wasn't going to break, she’d had sex with other men, she didn't have panic attacks or flashbacks, but what she hadn't done before was make love. She’d never felt the way she felt about Eli with any other man, and she knew that those feelings would change sex, make it something deeper, something more than sensual pleasure, it would touch every single part of her.

  Eli groaned, unbuckled her seatbelt and dragged her onto his lap. “I want you so badly, I can't wait,” he growled in her ear.

  One of his hands curled around her hip, holding her in place while his other hand undid her jeans and slid beneath the fabric. His fingers stopped just shy of touching her where she was aching for him.

  “Eli,” she moaned against his mouth, thrusting her hips forward in an attempt to hurry him along.

  “Uh, uh, uh,” he tutted. “Patience, princess. I'm going to take my time, enjoy every second of watching you squirm, it’s going to make hearing you scream my name when you come that much sweeter.”

  “Just remember, I give as good as I get,” she warned, nipping at his earlobe.

  “I’ll remember that.” He laughed as his finger brushed lightly across her, making her shiver. How could one little touch make her that turned on?

  Her mouth found Eli’s again and as badly as she wanted him inside her the way he teased her, pushing just the tip of his finger inside her before withdrawing it, his thumb rubbing circles on her aching bud, worked her higher than she’d ever flown before. She was torn between wanting it to never end and for him to have mercy on her and letting her come.

  Too soon the car stopped. “We’re here,” he said, withdrawing his hand and making her mew a protest.

  “You better not ask me again if I'm sure I want this,” she warned, her entire body was turned on, tingling, buzzing, burning for him. “If you don’t finish what you started the second we get inside I'm going to combust.”

  “Oh, you’ll be combusting, princess.” Eli wrapped an arm around her waist and climbed out of the car without ever letting her go.

  The walk to the building’s door and up to her floor seemed to take forever, and she couldn’t not find Eli’s mouth again, kissing him had become her new oxygen, she needed it to survive, and she didn't even care that they were making a spectacle of themselves.

  Somehow, Eli managed to get them to her apartment with her legs wrapped around his waist, while never breaking their kiss, and he managed to do it without them crashing into any walls.

  The second her door closed behind them, they were ripping off each other’s clothes with a fervor she hadn't felt before, and from the frantic way Eli was removing her sweater and jeans he hadn't felt it before either.

  “You’re gorgeous.” Eli whistled as he gave her an appreciative once over the second he got her naked.

  “You're pretty gorgeous yourself,” she said, admiring the view. Eli was every bit as cut as she’d known he would be. “You going to look or you ready to touch.” Grabbing Eli’s hand, she led him through to her bedroom.

 
When they reached the bed he scooped her up and laid her down reverently, the look on his face was hard to read, she could see the heat, he was as turned on as she was, but there was something else there. Something deeper. Something she thought was probably a reflection of what she’d see on her own face if she looked in the mirror.

  “Eli,” she pleaded. “I need you. Now. Please.”

  At the please, his control seemed to snap, he climbed on the bed, hovered above her. “You’re on birth control, right?”

  “Yes, and I'm clean.”

  “Me too, you good to do this without a condom?”

  “I don’t care how we do it as long as you get this inside me now,” she said as she grabbed hold of his hard length and squeezed.

  “Is that a yes?” he asked tightly.

  “It’s a yes.” She grabbed his hips and tried to hurry him up.

  That Cheshire cat grin of his spread across his face and he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing inside her inch by excruciatingly slow inch. It had been a while since she’d been with anyone, and it took a moment for her body to adjust to his size—and Eli was very well endowed—but once she had she felt full. Not just her body but her heart and her soul as well. Eli’s cockiness, confidence, and tender sweetness had managed to patch up her heart and repair her soul.

  They moved in a unison that implied years of togetherness instead of their first time. They kissed, their hands roamed each other’s bodies, as their movements grew faster, impatient, as they both neared the peak.

  Florence could feel it coming, feeling her entire body growing tighter and tighter, and then she hit the end of the rope, and her body exploded in a fiery passion that didn't leave a single inch of her untouched.

  Eli came a second after her, and continued to thrust dragging out both of their pleasure until they both collapsed, sated and happy, against the mattress.

  “That was amazing,” she murmured. “I don’t think I'm going to be able to move for a month.”

  “Only a month?” Eli asked. “Then my job is not done here. Unless you're out for a year, I have improvements to make.”