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AFTER I FALL: CHAPTER 15
Eli
There is fear in every beat of her heart beneath my fingers. Fear. Anger. Disappointment.
I saw all of those things flash before me the moment before she stalked out of my office. I’ve never followed a woman who walked away before.
I have no patience for games.
And it wasn’t the fear or the anger or the disappointment that compelled me to go after her.
It was the courage that it took for her to stand up and walk away.
What pushed her to the breaking point? I only know I can’t push her any further. Whatever she’s running from, whatever she’s trying to hide from, she’s not ready to talk about it.
I can wait.
Lightning cracks overhead and I flinch, pulling her close. I half shield her with my body. “Storm’s getting closer.”
“You don’t like them?” She looks up at me and I realize how well she fits against me.
“I don’t mind them. When they’re not right overhead.” I stroke her cheek as the rain splatters on the back of my hand. It’s a stark contrast to the warmth beneath my palm. “I have a place. Above the bar.”
She makes a noise in her throat. “Of course you do.”
I brush my lips against her mouth, the want inside me an ache that burns through my veins.
I don’t remember the rush back to my loft. I remember taking her hand and guiding her through the huge splatters of rain that turned into a flat ass downpour a block from my stairwell. The thunder rolls through the sky as I close my door behind us, and then it hits me.
She is here. Completely soaked. Completely vulnerable.
Completely mine. Even if only for a night. An afternoon.
I wish I knew how long she’d stay. I wish I knew what to say or do to get her to trust me.
But she’s here now.
And I cannot screw this up.
She shivers.
I step to her, drawing her mouth up to mine. It is a gentle kiss, meant to warm. To comfort. To sip from her.
I don’t expect her to step into my space, to bridge the gap between us. She slips her hands beneath my shirt. Her palms burn my chilled skin.
“God but that feels good,” I whisper against her lips. She frowns, and I kiss her brow. “Can I take your clothes?”
She smiles wryly. “That’s pretty forward.”
I nod at a small closet near my kitchen. “Dryer.” I kiss her again. “I’ll be honest. I want to see you.” Her lips open beneath mine. “Taste you.” I nip her bottom lip. “Every. Inch of you.”
Her fingers curl into my sides. I cover one hand and urge her to slide it up, higher beneath my shirt, until her palm rests over my heart. “Touch me,” I whisper.
It takes every ounce of willpower I have to stand there and let her fingers trace over my skin as she pushes my shirt over my head.
I know what she sees. Evidence of the war, etched and cut into my skin. She traces her index finger over the scar on my shoulder. The broken, burning piece of rebar would have effectively ended my Army career if I’d still had one when I’d gotten hurt.
She surprises me. Steps close enough to me that I can feel the heat from her body and presses her lips to the scar and the awful black ink I used to mask its terribleness.
“What don’t you want to forget?”
I swallow hard and turn to her. “A lot of things.”
I slip my index finger into the waist of her pants. “You’re wet.”
She grins. “You have no idea.”
I laugh and tug her close, slipping her wrap off her shoulders in a single movement. It lands in a plop on the floor. I’ll get it in a few minutes. In this moment, I want to focus on Parker. On learning what she needs and wants and likes.
I tug her back against me, wanting to feel the pressure of her body against mine. She’s a perfect fit, everything molding into place like she was made for me. She tips her head, offering her flesh in an age-old sacrifice.
Her skin is cold beneath my lips. She shivers as I kiss her just where her collarbone disappears into her throat. She makes a noise as I trace the line of her shoulder with my tongue, pushing her tank off her shoulders. Her body is smooth lines and warm angles. I slide my thumbs down the line of her spine, still kissing her neck, suckling her a little as she shivers again.
I follow my thumbs with my tongue, tracing an erotic line down her back, pushing her pants down off her body. In part, I want to feel her against me, but my brain shut down the need to get her warm and dry, this need I have to protect her. To care for her.
She steps out of her wet clothes, and she is naked in front of me. She doesn’t hide or cross her arms over her body. She is perfection, all soft bronze skin, dusky nipples and pale blond hair between her thighs. The want inside me is burning away all rational thought as she steps toward me once more.
“Tell me what you want.” A whisper. One step short of begging her to let me touch her.
She slips one arm around my neck, rising on her tiptoes to press her body against mine.
But I’m in for a shock when her palm slips between us to cradle my erection and squeeze it gently. “Can I kiss you there?”
My eyes damn near roll back in my head.
Eli
She is on her knees in front of me. It is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
There is trust in that simple gesture. I cup her chin, stroking my thumb over her bottom lip. I can’t look away. Her lips part, and I slide the tip in, just a little. Her mouth is soft and warm and wet. She closes around the edge of my thumb, sucking gently, so gently.
I ache in a way I haven’t ached in forever. This touch, this complete surrender to the feelings of erotic, sensual caress.
There is nothing about this that will end well. We are from two very different worlds. And no matter how much I pretend to walk in hers, I’m only visiting. Trying to get funding to keep my business open. Trying to make a difference.
Trying to pretend that the things I do still matter.
But this afternoon, when she walked away, I couldn’t let her go. I looked in her eyes and saw something there that called to me. That made me need to make her believe that she was touchable. That she was worth more than the people in her life had led her to believe.
And now she is on her knees in front of me. Waiting, unsure about what to do next. My brain may want her some other way, but my dick is perfectly happy to oblige her at the moment with just how she is.
I have lost control of this situation.
But then she reaches for my jeans, her palm sliding over my cock. She squeezes me, still sucking gently on my thumb. She traces the tip of her tongue over the edge as she pulls my belt open. Jesus, I’m a fucking goner.
The air is cool on my stomach as she pushes open my jeans. I can’t move even if I wanted to. I need to see this through. I need to do this right.
But I can’t fucking move. I can’t blink. I don’t want to forget a single moment of the erotic image of Parker on her knees in front of me.
She slides my erection out of my jeans, stroking me gently. Christ, I’m hard as fucking rock. It’s everything I can do not to guide her lips to me. To urge her to put that beautiful mouth around the tip of my cock.
I thought I didn’t want this? I fucking lied.
She drags her teeth over the edge of my thumb a moment before she releases me. I have nowhere to put my hands now.
I drop them by my sides. I am not in control here.
“Can I kiss you here?” she whispers, rubbing her thumb over the aching crown.
“Yes please.” The words are strangled. A plea. She has me under her complete control.
I am completely still as she moves closer. Rubs her lips over the tip. A soft, gentle caress. I’m ready to fucking beg.
And then she opens, tracing her tongue over the edge before sucking me gently, so gently into her mouth.
It’s heaven. Pure fucking heaven. Her touch is electric, like a thousand points of heat with every slide of her lips over my cock.
I close my eyes and fight the urge to move, to rock into her.
This…this is supposed to be for her but it’s not. Because I am a selfish bastard who is just like a thousand other guys who won’t turn down a beautiful woman on her knees.
I’m no saint.
But goddamn, Parker feels good. Touching me. Licking me. Sucking me. I am lost in her touch. Lost in the complete and total need to let her control this, let her take this wherever it will go.
She sucks me a little harder. A groan escapes me. My balls tighten, and I can’t fight the urge to rock into her. Just a little.
I reach for her then, urging her to let me go. To stand. And when she does, I pull her against me, harder than I probably should, and kiss her. I’m too far gone at the moment to do anything but kiss her. To drink from her. To take all of her inside me in that single gesture.
“I don’t want to come like this,” I whisper, nibbling on the edge of her meal.
“How then?”
“How do you want me?” A serious question. She needs to know that she’s controlling things here. She gets to say how far we go. If we even finish. “Because right now? I’d sell the fucking bar to get you to agree to let me do terrible, forbidden things to your body.”
“What are you waiting for?”
I smile and rock against her a little more. “Those five little words.”
And then she is on my sofa, her upper body braced on her palms. I capture her face in my palms and kiss her gently, lowering her until she is supported. Slowly, sipping on her lips. Savoring the taste of her. “Can I touch you here?” I slide my fingers down over the length of one of her arms. She makes a noise. “Say yes,” I whisper near her ear.
“Yes.”
“Can I touch you here?” I trace my fingertips over the edge of her ribs, just along the swell of her breast.
Her response is a huff against my lips. I smile. “Say yes.”
“Yes.”
I brush the back of my knuckles over the tight edge of one nipple. A shiver runs through her.
“Can I touch you here?” A slip of my fingers against her inner thigh.
She makes a sound. A whimper. Maybe a plea.
“I need you to say yes.” I manage to get the words out. Barely. They are somewhere between a whisper and growl. It takes everything I have to restrain myself but this…this isn’t for me. “Please say yes.”
I slip my finger a little closer, running it gently, barely there, over the seam of her body.
Waiting, intensely and painfully hard, for her response.
