She sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. His grin was penetrating and sent another warm surge through her. The anticipation of having him taste her—having him inside her—filled her with unfamiliar longing.
It’d been years since she’d been in a relationship, and when she had, it’d been weighed down by a mountain of obligation. With Eli, there were only the two of them and a physical awareness that rivaled any attraction in her past.
Eli sat at the end of the bed, his back to her as he took off his shoes. They met the floor with a couple of dull thuds. He stood and slid his pants down, revealing a tight, round ass in black boxer briefs and thighs so strong she’d bet he used them to open jars.
She rested her chin on her folded forearms to hide her smile.
He sat, and while she couldn’t see what he was doing, she could hear him working his pants down his legs and the sound of a click as he removed the prosthetic leg.
The last to go was his shirt. He fisted the material at the back of his neck and peeled it over his head, tossing it to the floor inside out. Messy, indeed. She liked that as much as she liked everything else about him. Especially those rippling back muscles. Eli was beautiful and rugged. Like a sculpted rock face.
When he turned his head, she admired his profile; the line of his neck leading down his shoulder and his tattoo sleeve. Flowers and lettering, a cross and the sun, interwoven with patterns she hadn’t taken the time to interpret.
“Sable, lie down,” came his quiet command.
She scooted back onto the bed and stretched her legs out, reaching for the buttons on her blouse.
“I’ll get that. Need your eyes on the ceiling, honey.” Another soft request.
She obeyed, eyes on the white plaster ceiling overhead as she listened to him come to her, moving at an uneven pace up the bed. Then her vision was filled with his gorgeous face. Dark hair falling over his forehead, intense blue eyes that had witnessed the horrors of war. She brushed her palm along his beard, almost filled in, and ran her finger over his bottom lip.
“You’re so handsome it hurts.” She whispered her confession. It earned her a grin and a kiss that curled her toes.
“Trust me, Sable. This won’t hurt a bit.” His fingers worked the buttons of her blouse as he continued kissing her. Together they helped her out of her shirt and she tossed it to the floor as he slid her bra from her arms.
His lips hit her breasts and her back arched as intense pleasure rocked her. He moved his fingers between her legs again and her eyes sank shut, the orange from the daylight bright on the screens of her closed lids. His mouth kissed a trail over her ribs and down to her belly button, closer and closer to his exploring fingers.
Then his tongue replaced them and she nearly shot off the bed.
Hot.
Wet.
Each lick was a firm stroke applying pressure to her most sensitive part. She raised her head to steal a peek and he lifted her leg and rested her thigh on his shoulder, never pausing his assault. He lay flat on his belly, propped up on his other arm, shifting every so often to accommodate her body and his.
Waves of pleasure rolled over her as he continued, his hand wrapped tightly around her thigh as she bucked against his face. He didn’t slow when she cried out, but instead sped up, intent on getting her up and over. Her release built to a crescendo and finally on a shout—his name. Her orgasm found her, slamming into her as her inner muscles tapped out an intoxicating rhythm.
Her body trembled from the aftershocks, and she closed her legs against his persistent mouth, unable to take any more of his mind-numbing ministrations. She rolled to one side, pressing her knees together, but Eli parted her legs and pushed her to her back again. He army-crawled up her body, pressing kisses here and there as he did.
He pushed up on one arm and reached for the nightstand, coming up short. He swore under his breath as he shifted and tried again.
“What do you need?” she asked.
“Condom,” he growled.
“Let me.” She kissed him sweetly, then rolled over to open the drawer to fish out a packet. “Next time we’ll slide one under the pillow.”
Eli reached for it, but she swatted his hand away.
“Haven’t you learned yet, soldier,” she asked as she pushed his chest, “that I like to be on top?”
* * *
This was a lot fucking harder than he’d expected. Being between her legs, trying to navigate in bed and keep things hot. He’d planned on finishing her off, snagging a condom, and sliding in before she stopped pulsing. Then, with her legs wrapped around his ass, he’d slam them both home to the satisfying sounds of slapping flesh and keening moans.
Shit.
He’d thought relearning to walk and shower had been difficult.
The snag had delivered a blow to his ego and was starting to affect the part of him that should be a hell of a lot harder right now.
Fucking brain.
Stupid fucking brain.
While his brain did a great service controlling the rest of his body, it was doing a horrible job of motor function where he needed it most. He pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced when a hand rested on his chest.
“Eli.” The silken, sensual voice preceded a firm grip on his cock. One stroke had blood rushing there anew, hardening him instantly. One more stroke, and his brain was no longer reeling. His cock went as rigid as rebar in her fist.
Isa, her breasts swaying, hair swinging, hovered over him as a smile parted her sensuous mouth. Her eyes wandered down to what her hand was doing and he grasped a handful of blankets and threw it over his stump in a rush.
She’d already seen it, but better late than never.
Her eyes went to the blankets where his clenched fist held on, her hand still turning his cock into a seven-and-a-half-inch steel rod. She jerked the sheet and exposed his leg and his temper flared.
“Dammit, Sable.”
Her hand rested on his knee, her eyes drilling into his. “Focus.”
“I don’t want…” He swallowed thickly, feeling his lip curl as he eked out the rest of his confession. “I don’t want you to have to see it.”
Chin up, she peered down her adorable nose at him, her lips pursing. Then. She looked. Let his erection slap his belly and turned between his legs, putting both hands on his right thigh. Those hands moved along his kneecap, over flesh that had healed into thick bands of scar tissue. She moved up his thigh and massaged the muscle there.
He snatched her wrists, turning her toward him as he used his ab muscles to pull himself up. “What did I say?”
“Do you want this?” She thrust her breasts out and up, one eyebrow gently rising. “Do you want me?”
“You know I do.” His cock bobbed in agreement.
“Then you have to trust me. We need to work around this”—she freed one hand and touched his right leg again—“and I’m willing to learn.” She blinked bedroom eyes at him. “And practice.”
He held her wrist and her eyes for a protracted beat, his chest lifting with another inhalation. Isa didn’t appear to mind touching him—she didn’t run and hide when she saw him without the leg.
“You’re okay?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be okay? You gave me the orgasms of my life.”
He couldn’t help smiling. “Orgasms…as in more than one?”
“You’re a man of many talents, Eli Crane.” She moved closer and kissed him and he let her go to push his fingers into her hair. She rerouted her mouth to his neck, giving him a shove so that he was once again on his back.
“Bossy,” he grunted, holding a handful of her silky hair as she dragged her tongue over his chest.
“You know it,” she said, sliding further south. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when her damp tongue flicked over his abdomen. Then he nearly passed out when, one hand on his thigh, the other wrapped around his cock, Isa delivered a teasing lick to the tip.
If
there was a favorite in the bedroom, it was this. Watching her repeat the motion, this time suckling the head past her lips, made him forget he had any legs at all. Every last one of his muscles tightened to the point of pain as this incredible, unflappable woman went down on him.
Giving up control should feel compromising, but with Isa, it was oddly…freeing. She connected with him on more than one level. And whenever she didn’t understand him, she made an effort to. After being left behind by a woman who didn’t want to take the time, it was…humbling.
Eli’s head crashed to the pillow as Isa took him deep. Her cheeks closed around his shaft, her tongue raking the veiny ridge. He slapped a hand over his eyes and ground his teeth together in an effort not to blow early.
A few silky slides later, the heat of her mouth was replaced with the cool tip of the condom. He moved his hand to watch as she rolled the latex down and climbed over him, her thighs hugging his hips. Hands on his chest, she rose, then sank onto him. His head lifted off the pillow, his hands tightening around her hips.
“Relax,” she said, hands on his chest.
He relaxed but kept his hands on her as she moved. She rocked, she slipped, she pounded. All the while her breasts bouncing, her face contorting into pleasure-ridden pleats. He tweaked her nipples, watching her mouth drop open. Her breathless cries saturated the room as her movements slowed.
“Keep going,” he urged, because he was so incredibly close.
“Trying,” she gasped.
“Try harder.” He thumbed her nipples and she grinned.
“Yes, sir.” She pushed her hair off her face and picked up the pace.
When she slowed, he clamped onto her full hips and lifted his pelvis to meet hers, watching with a healthy dose of male pride as she orgasmed yet again. This time he joined her and they came, her final descent striking him like flint to stone. They burned together, Isa continuing to move as Eli’s release tore through him on a loud shout of carnal pleasure.
When his back hit the bed, she didn’t have to tell him to relax. Every muscle in his body uncoiled, a buzz tingling through him like he’d been plugged into a socket. And his pesky brain, which kept failing him at the most inopportune moments, went blissfully silent.
Isa draped over him, her hair tickling his face, her lips brushing his cheek. He caught her head and kissed her lips, her heady flavor an elixir for everything that ailed him.
Eyes closed, he wrapped his arms around her, letting the feeling of intense satisfaction hang around awhile longer.
His heart pounded so hard, he might never recover.
He might never want to.
Chapter 11
It occurs to me I don’t have a life,” Chloe said as she unpacked a bottle of wine from a paper grocery bag onto Isa’s countertop. “You get to have sex with this completely glorious billionaire Marine, and I…” She lifted the bottle of cabernet. “Well, I have wine?”
“I appreciate that you have wine. It’s been a long day.” After working late, Isa invited Chloe up to her apartment for a drink. She needed a girlfriend and when she thought of who she had to talk to, the only friends who came to mind were work friends.
Plus, Isa liked Chloe. She trusted her, too.
Isa pulled open a cabinet and put the glasses on her breakfast bar.
Wordlessly, Chloe uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses. When Isa grabbed hers, her friend said, “Cheers to us getting laid.”
Isa lowered her glass away from her mouth. “Us?”
“I meant cheers to you because you’ve gotten laid, and cheers to me for getting laid in the future. I hope.” Chloe twisted a finger around one of her curls.
“It could happen.” Isa gave up and took a drink, letting the cabernet wash over her tongue in a fruity wave.
“Yeah, right. Do you think that hot blond from the Mexican restaurant swung in here and dropped off his number or something?”
“I do know him now. Sort of. I could introduce you.”
“Huh-uh, sister.” Chloe waggled a finger back and forth. “We’re not talking about that hunk of man.”
“His name’s Zach.” Isa batted her lashes.
“Elijah Crane.” Chloe pointed a finger. “Spill it.”
“All right, fine.” Isa pulled out a stool at the counter and sat.
Chloe clapped her hands together and eagerly followed suit.
“You can stop dancing like a loon now. Eli and I did the deed. A few times,” she added. Chloe had already busted her this afternoon and to be fair, Isa hadn’t bothered fixing what Eli called her “JBF” hair.
“JBF?” she’d asked, resting her chin on his bare chest as they lay in his bed.
“Just been fucked.”
She’d slapped his chest in reprimand, but it’d only earned her a dry, rough laugh that made her heart patter. She had such a thing for him.
“Please tell me some details—like what put that wistful twinkle in your eye. Let me live vicariously.” Chloe spread her fingers over her collarbone and did her best Scarlett O’Hara impression. “I’m but a poor assistant with no social life.”
“Hmm. This isn’t a ploy for a raise, is it?” Isa teased.
“Not…immediately.” Another grin from her friend.
“It happened on Monday—”
Chloe muzzled a sharp squeal with her hands covering her mouth. Then she reclaimed her composure and waved a “go on” motion.
“And Tuesday…” No interruption this time, so Isa told her more. “He’s…intense. There is a battle he’s fighting and I haven’t figured out who it’s with yet. His family? An ex who did a number on him?”
“His leg?” Chloe guessed, not totally wrong.
“Yes and no. Other than his hesitation over the stairs at the Vancouver, I’ve never seen him unsure. He walks, works out, drives…but when it came time for us to be intimate, he was uncomfortable.” She stabbed her lip with her teeth before she said too much. “I don’t want to share his secrets.”
“Oh, I know. I mean, I can imagine.”
But then she shared them anyway. “It’s like with me, he isn’t sure who to be. He’s trying to protect me from this physical side of him, the part that is different and doesn’t work the way it used to. But he’s opened up about his past and his injury. He’s a riddle.”
“How do you feel when he opens up to you?” Chloe asked.
“Special,” Isa answered frankly. “The first time we met I didn’t dream he was the kind of man to share any personal details. I knew we were compatible after that first kiss, but I had no idea it could be deeper than a physical connection.”
Which was exactly why she’d chickened out after the dinner at Benicia’s.
“And here I thought I only needed Eli to secure my reputation in this city,” Isa said with a small laugh. They’d moved so far past that point, it was hard to believe that’s where she’d started with him.
“You’ve built your own reputation, Isa.” Chloe shook her head as if it should be obvious. “You’re an easy person to talk to. That’s why clients love you. I receive a lot of calls from clients who only want to talk to you. You are Sable Concierge. Your empathy and honesty made this company what it is today.”
“Thank you,” Isa said, sincerely humbled.
“I believe in this company. I believe in you. No matter what happens with Eli Crane down the road, I have faith Sable Concierge will thrive because you’re the person running it.”
Isa’s heart swelled—with pride and gratitude. The kind of approval her hardworking associate had poetically delivered was what Isa had sought for years but had never received.
“To Sable Concierge.” Chloe raised her wineglass.
“Sable Concierge,” Isa agreed, clinking their glasses and taking a sip. She cocked her head to one side in thought.
“What?” Chloe asked with a wide-eyed blink.
“You know, with your kind of passion, you’d be a great partner.”
Chloe’s mouth dropped open and her
cheeks went rosy. “Partner?”
“Have you ever considered going into management with Sable Concierge? Our expanding company is currently in need of an additional supervisor.”
“Are you interviewing me?” Chloe lifted her glass. “Over cabernet?”
“And chocolate.” Isa stood and went to the fridge. She unwrapped the foil on a 72 percent dark chocolate bar with almonds and sea salt.
“Now,” Isa said, handing a square to Chloe. “Tell me your number one strength.”
“Easy. Dedication.” Chloe ate the chocolate, then asked, “What about you?”
“Me? I’m doing the interviewing.”
“Humor me.”
“I’m incredibly stubborn. That’s my strength. Your turn. What’s your weakness?” Isa asked, taking a square for herself.
“This is a trick interview question.”
“It is not!” Isa bit into her chocolate, enjoying the perfect pairing with the fruity red wine.
“Prove it. You go first.” Chloe pushed an invisible pair of eyeglasses onto the bridge of her nose. “What’s your weakness, Isabella Sawyer?”
Isa placed the wineglass to her lips and smiled against the rim. She had an answer, but it seemed inappropriate to admit that her weakness lately was a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed Marine with a husky laugh and a talented tongue.
“Why, I’m a perfectionist of course,” Isa said instead.
“Ha! And a phoned-in answer! Told you it was a trick.” Chloe broke off another piece of chocolate and Isa continued the interview, glad she had someone under her employ who was capable and smart and believed in Sable Concierge as much as she did.
No matter what happened with Eli or the Cranes, at least she had Chloe.
* * *
“You are kinkier than I imagined, Isabella Sawyer.”
Isa looked away from her laptop at Eli, his lazy smile and hooded eyes the signature of an insanely satisfied man. As well he should be after what they just did.
She’d admit, when she went back into the dining room to grab her laptop, she’d done so with an extra spring in her step.
“Working from bed and wearing nothing at all.” He stretched one tatted arm behind his head, showing off biceps and muscles leading to a chest that was downright drool-worthy.
The Bastard Billionaire Page 15