Page 52 of Bad Situation

“Eli.” His name comes out on a croon.

Ever since I woke up this morning, all I could think about was him. But on my drive home, I decided that I need to learn more about him. That was going to the top of my agenda when I saw him next. Not to be laid out over my dining table and stripped down to nothing.

He still hasn’t said a word to me since I opened the door. But when he wraps his lips around my nipple and sucks, I really don’t care.

I spear my fingers into his hair to hold him tight. If he stops, I might … I don’t know … die.

He rolls and pinches my other nipple hard enough that I jerk from the pain and pleasure as it shoots through me. He kisses his way across my chest, licking away the sting, rolling his tongue around it.

His hands come to my legs and he unwraps them from around his waist and props my heels at the edge of the table—a table I’ve always loved. A table that will never be the same when I sit here to eat dinner with my parents.

He pushes my knees wide and when I look down my body to him, he gives me a fiery glance even though his lips tip on one side. You’d think I’d care, but I just don’t, because his lips touch my hip for the first time. Then my navel. And, oh fuck, my pubic bone. His fingers slide through me first, parting everything, before his tongue does one lazy lap. My hands fall to the table and I push on my heels to lift. He circles my clit so lightly with the tip of his tongue and then he’s gone.

I lift my head and gasp, “You’re stopping?”

Moving in, he puts a forearm on either side of my head and I have to work to slow my breathing. He kisses me first and I barely taste myself on his tongue since he barely tasted me. When he leans up, he states, “You can be a pain in the ass, but I missed you anyway.”

Well, now I know what the damn smirk was about. He’s playing with me. I fist his shirt at his sides and ignore that, focusing on what I really want to know. “Why did you stop?”

“Told you I don’t like to be teased.”

“When did I tease you?”

He narrows his eyes. “About that guy who calls himself a trainer.”

I wrap my legs around his middle and squeeze. “I never teased you about Jase.”

“Baby. You did and you know it. You even enjoyed it.”

“No, baby. I didn’t. I told you the truth. If I wanted to tease you, I would’ve said, ‘Jase might or might not have bested me during our self-defense moves and ended up dry humping me, but on a clean mat this time. It must be my week’.” I give my head a little shake to emphasize the ridiculousness of this whole conversation. “But I didn’t. I told you the truth. He did not dry hump me—you’re the only one who’s done that, and in a very long time, I might add.”

He lifts a hand and brings it down to his side where he slaps it on my bare ass before squeezing. “Fuck. I did miss you.”

Now that his mouth isn’t between my legs, I can focus on my agenda. “I might’ve missed you, too, even though you didn’t tell me why you left or what you were doing all week. What were you doing all week?”

His eyes close and he shakes his head before his lips hit skin below my ear. “I had shit to deal with. Nothing worth talking about. Especially while I’ve got you naked underneath me. You smell like cake.”

His hand kneads my ass and upper thigh and I sigh because I like it. “It’s my vanilla sugar scrub. Stop trying to distract me. Anything you do for an entire week is worth talking about. Tell me.”

He works his way around to my collarbone and mumbles there, “What’s your schedule today with the wedding shit?”

It’s hard to think about anything when he kisses the underside of my breast. I look down at him and he says nothing, but does flick my nipple again with this tongue and raises his brows, waiting for an answer. “I need to be back at the ranch for a bridal luncheon, hair, and makeup. But I have to dry my hair before I leave and that takes at least twenty minutes. I have some work calls to make, but I can do that on the way if I conference Callie in so she can take notes while I drive.”

He pulls my nipple into his mouth before letting it go with a pop and the sensation shoots straight between my legs. “You’re a busy woman.”

I close my eyes again when his fingers return to my clit. “You’re not exactly a slacker, either.”

“When are you going to make some time for me?” I feel his lips trail back down the center of my body.

“Tomorrow,” I breathe. “But not until late afternoon. My mother is hosting a lunch.”

“Every time you talk about your family you’re eating. I think I might like them.”

“Everything my mother does is centered around food or making sure her kids are perfect. She just had a heart attack. Trust me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” My feet come off the table when he pushes my legs high and wide. When he blows on my sex, I moan.

“You’ve had a rough few weeks. I think you deserve an orgasm.”

I look down my body where he’s bent between my legs. He’s not playing any longer. “Oh, fuck.”

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