by S. M. West
Forcing her hips down, I delve a finger into her, beginning a slow and steady pumping and suck on her bundle of nerves. As I increase the motion and pressure, I slide another finger inside and she gasps, her body begging for release.
She’s close, so close, and when she tightens around my fingers, I groan into her sex, increasing the suction while she rides out her orgasm, her core clenching and releasing around me.
“Eli.” Her hands grab at my head and shoulders, urging me up to her, and my mouth crushes hers.
We kiss and kiss. My tongue sweeps into her mouth, letting her taste her orgasm on me. She glides her hands down my body, fingers wrapping around my hard cock.
“Fuck, Pru.”
She positions my swollen crown where she wants me most, and I bite back a growl when my tip breaches her entrance. My thick cock fills her, and her body stretches to take me.
“Eli, I need you. All of you,” she pleads, nails clawing at my back.
“You got me.” With an upward thrust, I sink fully into her, and she mews, clenching around me, eyes falling shut. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
The intense grip she has on me drives me near blind, and my body trips into pure desire. I’m hard and rough, and we’re gasps and groans, our skin slapping against each other.
I fuck her with reckless abandon, unleashing all my pent-up want and need since that first time at The Salon. And it’s as if she feels the same, matching me thrust for thrust with breathy moans and hips bucking and rotating in time with mine.
Untamed and carnal.
Her fiery gaze locks with mine, and her pussy throbs tight around me. I slip a hand between us, my thumb finding her clit and circling. I stiffen, balls drawing up tight, and my release tears through me.
Pru’s right with me, body shuddering, pussy clamping around me as she releases a gratifying cry. I roar her name and climax, neck strained, muscles taut. She clings to me, pulling us chest to chest and kissing the side of my neck.
I collapse onto her, breathing heavy, and roll us to our sides. She brushes my hair back from my face and smiles.
“‘Free Fallin’” by John Mayer.”
I belt out a laugh, bringing her onto my chest. “No way. I love Tom Petty, and so do you, judging from your T-shirt.”
“Yes. Yes, I do. But John Mayer’s cover is pretty good. Different but good.”
“I’ll give you that. And you’re right.” I still, making sure her eyes are on me. “Free fallin’, sweetheart. No doubt.”
18
Pru
I’ve got your back
Fingers dip between my legs, and I blink, caught in that hazy, magical place between slumber and awake. A wicked smile crawls onto Eli’s lips, his face inches from mine on the same pillow.
His sultry, heavy-lidded gaze gets to me. What I see there has me quaking on the inside. Intense desire and something else. Something so intimate, so pure, I dare not name it.
Deft fingers circle my clit, lazy and taunting, and I go with the pleasure, eager to escape the all too real emotions he’s so boldly wearing on his face.
Suddenly, I’m more aroused than anything else. His mouth and tongue are magical and do all kinds of things to my body, own me, but his fingers are just as special. Just as lethal.
We fell asleep not too long ago, and it’s early in the morning. Maybe one or two. Body limp and satiated, I’m not sure I’ve got another orgasm in me, but the way he’s making me feel with those fingers of his…I just might.
My thighs rub together, squeezing his hand and my arousal, wet and slick, coats his fingers.
“I love how ready you are for me.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip and I tip my head back, grabbing at the muscle of his shoulder, and it flexes, tenses beneath my palm.
I writhe at how good he makes me feel, and then he makes a liar out of me. Insides coiled tight, I see the first few sparks of fireworks behind my closed eyes.
“Pru, look at me,” he commands, stilling his ministrations.
I open my eyes and mouth, appalled and speechless. He chuckles, and his fingers start again, quickening the pace, bringing me to the brink that much faster.
His lips suck on my neck, and when I explode, shattering and crying out his name, he growls my name so roughly, the shape of each letter of my name rasps along my flesh.
Eyes now open, I trail my hands down the rows of his perfectly chiseled abs, sure to find him hard and ready. But I stop when he puts his finger into his mouth and sucks.
“You taste magnificent, sweetheart.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead. “Sleep.”
“But—”
His finger, the very one just inside me, lands on my lips. “Hush, go to sleep.”
Peaceful shivers flow through me as I’m cocooned in his embrace and easily find sleep.
Eli wakes well before five a.m., slipping from the bed, and I shudder from the loss of his warm, hard body wrapped around mine.
Grudgingly, I peel one eye open. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, I want to be home before Crystal wakes up.” He slides the T-shirt over his fabulous abs and rakes a hand through his mussed dark hair.
I nod into my pillow and close my eyes. He bends to press his lips to my temple. “Go back to sleep. I’ll call you.”
It’s several hours, a little after eight, before I open my eyes again. This time, the sun streams in through the windows and I’m up and dressed in workout clothes in no time. My body aches but in the best way possible.
I use the building gym, then shower back at my place and get ready. As I make my way down to the front door, my phone buzzes with a text.
Eli: Come over for breakfast. Pancakes.
Me: I’m on my way to the bodega for my breakfast. But thanks.
It’s tempting and too easy and while I want to share a meal, we agreed to keep it casual. I don’t want a repeat of last weekend no matter how good it was.
We have separate lives, and whatever this is between us will eventually run its course. I must protect my heart.
Eli: What do I have to do to convince you?
Chuckling, I exit the elevator, saying hello to the doorman and Mr. Fitzgerald as I amble out into the warm summer morning.
Me: You can’t. Coffee is calling me. Talk later. xo
First, I pop into the coffee shop and grab a coffee. Then, two doors down, I enter the bodega for a few essentials for the weekend.
I get a bag of bagels, cream cheese, and stop at the fruit stand. My hand curls around an apple when the heat of someone presses into my back.
At first, I tense but quickly relax at the familiar and alluring citrus and outdoors scent. My lips curve upward at his surprise appearance.
“That apple doesn’t look so ripe.” A voice like warm honey sluices over me, and I turn to face him.
My toes curl at the sight of Eli. Scruff on his face, he’s in jeans and a plain black T-shirt, hair damp from a shower. I wish I could see his eyes, but the aviators complete the look.
He’s delectable. Forget breakfast.
“What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you. To change your mind.” He leans down, lips hovering above mine.
I could easily push onto the tips of my toes and take his mouth. Taste the minty freshness and hint of coffee on his breath. But no.
“I figured I’d have better luck enticing you to join me for breakfast in person.”
“Is Crystal waiting for you to have her pancakes?”
“Nah, relax.” One hand cups my bare shoulder, fingers tenderly moving in small, tight circles across the thin strap of my tank top, and I tremble at his touch. “She’s done with breakfast and off to swimming. Janet took her.”
“Swimming?” I pluck a banana and a peach from the fruit stand, brushing past him on my way to the checkout.
“Yes. She goes to swimming lessons. I’m all alone this morning and would love some company.”
“Will any company do?” I bat my lash
es at him and set the food down for the clerk to scan. “Because I’m sure that woman over there would be more than happy to keep you company.”
I don’t point, only cock my head in the direction of a young woman, maybe my age, ogling Eli from behind the magazine rack. She isn’t discreet and knows exactly who he is.
“No, not just anyone will do.” He secures a hand around my waist, bringing my back flush with his front. “I want you.”
Once again, his lips brush the shell of my ear, and shivers tickle across the back of my neck. I press my lips together to stop a naughty noise from escaping.
The clerk hands me a brown paper bag, and Eli grabs my free hand, interlacing our fingers as we exit the store.
“I can’t come by right now. I really do have things to do.” I could bore him with the mundane details of watering Harley’s plants.
Then I plan on losing myself in the latest Black Fox report. The firm has committed to sending a report on each of the three men, chronicling their lives, in broad strokes, with greater detail about the time in their lives when they knew my mother. This is the second report.
“Okay, then later.” He squeezes my hand as we near our building. “Promise me we’ll see each other later.”
My heart skips a beat, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. The vulnerability in his voice does funny things to me and no matter how hard I try to deny it, I recognize his need. I want to see him too, spend more time with him.
It doesn’t matter how long we’re together, it’s the hours and days apart that are unbearable. Interminable.
“Okay. Why don’t you and Crystal come to my place for dinner? I have to do my nails, and if it’s okay with you, I’ll do hers too.”
“Or you could come to mine. This way Crystal has her stuff and when she’s done with the grown-ups...” The glint in his eye and the way he leaves his words hanging fill me with all kinds of wicked musings.
“Okay.”
He gives me a soft, quick kiss, pulling me into the building and swinging me around to face him. His arms encircle my waist and I look up at him, laughter on my lips.
My bag of groceries are wedged between us. “You’re going to smoosh my peach.”
“Oh, no.” He steps back a fraction. “We can’t have that.”
The harsh clearing of a throat followed by my name causes me to peer over my shoulder. Ross Carmichael stands about two feet from my back, staring, not at me but at Eli. So many emotions flash across his features. Hope, confusion, interest, and something like anger?
I pull from Eli’s embrace, and reluctantly, he loosens his hold but keeps an arm firmly around my waist.
“What are you doing here, Ross?” I adjust the bag in my arms, and the man at my side stiffens, his hand curling into a fist.
“I wanted to see you. I’ve called but you don’t answer or call me back.” He’s sheepish, dipping his gaze to the floor before looking at me.
“That should have been a hint. She doesn’t want to see you.” Eli’s tone is low and unwelcoming.
I’m surprised because I’ve never seen him anything but affable, and despite the little he knows about Ross, which isn’t good, we both know a conversation with this man is inevitable. Eli has witnessed incidents of Whitney on the war path and out for my blood.
“This doesn’t concern you.” My ex-business partner squares his shoulder, jaw muscles clenching.
“That’s for me to say, not you.” I near the traitor, anger stirring within me. Eli slowly releases me but stays close, and I’m comforted by his unspoken support. “We need to talk. Not here.” I stare at Ross, uninviting but resigned. “Let’s go up to the penthouse.”
“Pru,” Eli growls, hooking a finger into a belt loop of my jean shorts.
The move is possessive and protective and yet, from his tone, it isn’t clear if he’s warning me to be careful or ordering me not to go with the man in front of us. One I find endearing and the other, not so much.
“Thank you.” Ross is a little smug as he reaches a hand toward me but quickly drops it at whatever he sees on my face.
“You don’t have to talk to him.” Eli tugs on the belt loop, and I spin around to face him, pushing him away from my former friend.
I lower my voice. “I do.”
“Yeah, but not alone. Let me come with you.”
“Pru.” Ross is impatient, and I groan, not bothering to look at him as I say, “Go wait by the elevator.”
Looking Eli in the eye, I assure him, “No, it’s better if it’s just the two of us. He’s competitive and he might not cooperate if you’re with me.”
Ross can be an ass at the best of times and since my firing, I can’t remember why we ever became friends, let alone business partners. But we do have unfinished business.
“I don’t like that guy, and I hate the idea of him being in your place.” Eli’s jaw tightens. “I’ll tell him right now to back off. Both him and his wife.”
“You don’t need to fight my battles for me.”
“Hey, I’m not doing that. You’re a strong woman. You don’t need me to stand up for you, but I want you to know you have me. I’ve got your back. Always.”
Apart from Harley, no one has willingly and unequivocally offered their support. When I was a child, I had tutors, nannies, and even some of the staff care for me, to a point. They’d back down once my mother got involved, and I didn’t hold it against them.
But Eli. He’s making sure I understand I’m not alone.
This is hard. His offer is difficult to accept. It’s a strange feeling, the reassuring heat of him, physically and emotionally, at my back, knowing if I fall, he’ll catch me.
Relief should be flowing through me, and on some level, it is, but his unwavering support also scares the hell out of me.
“Pru,” Ross says from behind me with more insistence than before. Eli stiffens, ready to walk over there and get in his face.
“Hey. Don’t take him on. He isn’t worth it.” I rub a hand over his defined chest, and at my touch, his eyes find mine. “It’ll be fine, and I’ll text you the second he’s gone.”
“If I don’t hear from you in five minutes, I’ll be up there.” Everything about him is strung tight and ready to pounce, except for his eyes.
His gaze is sharp yet tender as he continuously scans my face for any sign I might need him.
It’s a heady, magnificent sensation to have this man’s commitment. Eli would be willing to do anything for me—I sense it as strong and as clear as my beating heart.
If I said the word, Ross would be gone without question. And it isn’t lost on me that not once has he questioned or challenged me on Whitney’s actions. I mean, it wouldn’t be wrong of him to have doubts and push for more, but he’s never given me any indication he doesn’t believe me.
I offer him a grateful smile. “Give me ten and I promise to text.”
Now on the balls of my feet, I kiss him, intending our contact to be chaste, sweet, and reassuring, but he has other plans.
His mouth captures mine, robbing me of all my senses. Teetering on my tiptoes, I lean into him, and his tongue duels with mine as his fingers dig into my hips, bringing me against him.
He’s all around me. Hard planes against my soft curves. Palms on my face, calloused fingers interlacing at the back of my neck, and he loosens a low, hedonistic groan that slides down my throat, silky smooth and all kinds of sexy. My core clenches and my senses overload on Eli.
“Pru.” Ross’s bellow is childish, and this time, Eli doesn’t even look his way, but sadly, he ends the kiss.
Resting his forehead on mine and tightening his grip on my head in a protective, consoling way, his lips move against mine. “Please let me come upstairs with you. If I don’t, I might kill the idiot before he even makes it into the elevator.”
Despite the tension, a smile escapes my lips and I relent, nodding. “We can’t have that. There’d be too many witnesses.”
He exhales a sigh of relief and his
lips tug upward at the corners. “True. I’d do jail time for sure.”
On an easy chuckle, we head toward my ex-business partner, hand in hand. The elevator ride is silent, and the man I once thought of as a friend has the good sense not to comment on Eli’s presence and keep his distance.
This could be a dumb idea, having these two together, but I didn’t have the heart to turn Eli away. Especially with the turmoil in his gaze and desire to be here. I could do this for him, and even though we hadn’t talked about it, in my heart of hearts, I knew he would let me do this my way.
Unfortunately, Ross isn’t going to make this easy. That much is clear when he struts ahead of us toward my front door. It’s as if he owns the place.
My elbow now in his side, I force him out of the way to unlock the door and walk in first. Eli stays at Ross’s back, and at first, the cocky man, used to running a corporation, tries to walk past me, farther into the penthouse.
My growl stops him, and hopefully now it’s clear that he isn’t welcome any farther. Eli crosses his arms over his chest and stands like a bouncer at the door.
“I forgot how much of a ball buster you can be.” A slow, lazy smile skates across Ross’s face, highlighting his five o’clock shadow despite the early hour of the day.
For the first time, I realize he looks rough. Dark half-moon shapes shadow his eyes, and his clothes are wrinkled. Did he sleep in them?
I won’t take pity on him. Whatever’s going on in his life, he’s likely brought on himself.
“Why is your wife trying to get me blacklisted?”
“Uh, what are you talking about?”
I arch a brow, not impressed with his response. “If you’re not going to be honest with me, we’re done here.” I might have better luck with Whitney.
“Wait. No.” He holds up his hands. “What has Whit done?”
“Well, let’s see. I’ve called the Newmans, Ross Enterprises, and Hugh Wilby about business opportunities we’d already been discussing before I left CE, and none of them would talk to me.”
There’s a glint of recognition in his expression. None of this is a surprise to him. But as I pause, giving him the opportunity to jump in, he doesn’t take it.