Page 148 of The Lineman

“That’s how it works, doofus.”

“Doofus?” I cocked my head.

His hand flew to my side and dug into my ribs as his other hand attacked my other side.

“Yeah, doofus. You’re a total, complete, nerdy doofus, and you know it.”

I was squirming, laughing, dying at every dig, wishing he would stop tickling me and hoping he never did.

What had this ridiculous man done to me?

I howled with laughter and rolled, desperate to free myself, but he was bigger, stronger, faster—and I really didn’t want to escape all that badly.

“I’m gonna pee if you keep doing that!”

“Who knew? Mike Albert’s into golden showers.”

His tickles intensified.

“Elliot!”

His fingers flattened as he gripped my sides, leaned down, and pressed his lips to mine. In the space of a heartbeat, a scene of hilarious, childlike play was replaced by a kiss filled with every word we’d just spoken.

I melted.

Totally, completely, utterly melted.

Elliot shifted so his whole weight covered me, a blanket of muscle and meat, heat billowing from his body. I sank into the pillowy bedspread beneath his bulk, struggling to breathe but unwilling to move an inch.

His tongue found mine. It teased and circled.

He bit my lower lip, held it in his teeth, pulled it just enough to hurt—and it felt so damn good.

Both of his hands gripped my head, caressing me, threading into my hair.

Claiming me.

And I gave myself, freely, wholly, to my boyfriend.

Chapter forty-one

Elliot

Thecabinwasquiet,save for the slow hum of the ceiling fan and the soft rustling of the sheets beneath us. Outside, the lake reflected the moonlight in rippling waves, but I barely noticed.

Because he was beneath me.

Mike.

Breathless, flushed, his eyes dark with something I hadn’t seen in him before, certainly not like that—something wild, needy, mine.

I had thought about this before, imagined what it would be like to take my time with him, to explore him the way I wanted to, to kiss and touch and drive him completely out of his mind. I wanted to go slow and savor every moment, to let every second of our lovemaking spread through my body, to soak it up, to be a sponge for everything Mike offered.

But nothing I had imagined came close to this.

Nothing could have prepared me for the way he looked at me, the way his lips parted, the way his hands roamed restlessly over my skin, his nails dragging just enough to make my breath hitch.

This wasn’t primal. It wasn’t hungry or ravenous or devouring.

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