Page 101 of Pack Frenzy
Eli hesitates only a second before he follows me out of the car. I grab his hand. Bold again, reckless again. His palm is warm, steady, and the way he looks at me makes my stomach swoop.
Inside, the cabin smells faintly of cedar and leftover coffee. The air’s cool, the kind that raises goosebumps even before he touches me.
I turn to face him, still holding his hand. “You don’t have to be careful this time,” I whisper. “I just want you.”
His jaw tightens, eyes darkening. “Jess…”
“Please.” It comes out softer than I mean it to. “I don’t want to think. Just—stay with me. Be with me.”
He searches my face like he’s making sure this isn’t some post-adrenaline mistake I’ll regret tomorrow. Whatever he finds must be enough, because he exhales shakily and nods once.
“If you’re sure.”
Those three words hit low in my stomach. “Yeah.” That’s all I can manage.
He brushes damp hair off my cheek, thumb dragging down to my mouth. My breath catches; the room tilts.
And just like that, the air between us shifts—no more hesitation, no witnesses, just gravity, pulling us where we were always headed.
I take his hand and lead him to the bedroom.
The door clicks shut behind us. Rain hums against the window, and the room smells faintly of my shampoo from this morning. Eli stops just inside, shirt buttoned except for the top three buttons, looking at me like he’s memorizing this.
“You sure?” he whispers.
Instead of answering, I close the space between us and grab a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down until we’re breathing the same air.
“I’m sure,” I tell him, and then I kiss him like I mean it—like I’ve been meaning it since the theater, since the car, since maybe before I even knew his name when I first saw him at Nexus.
His hands find my waist, hesitant at first, then certain. When he kisses me back, it’s nothing like the careful restraint from earlier.
His mouth is hot, hungry, and his fingers slide under my shirt, finding bare skin. I gasp against his lips, and he takes it as the invitation it is—deepening the kiss, walking me backward toward the bed until my knees hit the mattress.
As his lips move hungrily against mine, I feel a surge of need, of longing that I can’t ignore.
I want him—his touch, his closeness, his everything. And he eases me toward the mattress. He kisses me, and I thread my fingers through his hair, wanting to feel all of him.
Then he breaks the kiss, pulling away to start unbuttoning his shirt, and I can’t take my eyes off him.
“If you keep doing that slow, I’m gonna rip it,” I warn, half-laughing, half-shaking.
He barely gets a couple buttons undone before I grab the hem and haul the shirt over his head, desperate for skin. His muscles flex under my touch.
“God, you’re warm,” I breathe, fingertips tracing the lines I can’t stop following.
When my nails scrape lightly over his nipples, he hisses, his cock twitching against his zipper and my thigh.
“You’re all mine tonight,” I whisper, more to myself than to him, but he heard. His chuckle sends a fresh wave of heat pooling between my thighs.
His lips are on mine, hot and demanding, his tongue sliding against mine in a slow, deep stroke that has my knees weakening. I moan into his mouth, my hands gripping his shoulders, my body arching into his like I could crawl inside his skin.
As he kisses me, his fingers find the zipper of my shorts, then he slides them down my hips. Next, he gently pulls back, lifting my crop top over my head.
I stand here in nothing but my lace panties and bra, the cool air kissing my heated skin, but Eli’s gaze is hotter. He drops to his knees in front of me, his hands sliding up my thighs, his breath warm against my stomach as he presses a kiss just above my navel.
“Pretty sure I’m blushing everywhere,” I mumble, mostly to the ceiling.
He grins without looking up, and my pulse forgets how to behave.
