I shrug and smile at him, but he doesn’t return it. He’s still watching me intently, braced on the back of the couch, as his fingers glide up my inner thigh and brush, ever so gently, over my lips, my clit, and then…my stomach.

Really? He’s not going to hang out in the one place that’s screaming for him?

I must frown because a wicked smile breaks out over that impossibly handsome face of his and he cocks a brow. “You don’t like that?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Yes.” He watches my face as his fingers find my core again, but it’s just his fingertips tickling over my lips, the crease where my leg meets my center. I reach for his wrist to guide him inside, but he quickly grips my hand in his, kisses it, and places it above my head. “You’re not controlling this.” His lips are barely touching my own. “You’re going to be patient, and enjoy. It’s Sunday.”

“You’ve never been lazy on a Sunday in your life,” I whisper against his lips. Jesus, I can’t catch my breath.

I’m going to die of asphyxiation before I get to come. That’s not fair.

“There’s a first for everything,” he replies softly, bites my lower lip, then resumes the torture happening between my legs. He glances down. “Fuck me, you’re wet.”

“That happens when you do stuff to me,” I reply and circle my hips.

“Stuff?” he repeats. “What kind of stuff?”

I’m not strong enough to fight him on my language. I don’t care if I swear. All I can focus on is having him over me, in me. Now.

“When you kiss me and touch me and tease me with fucking me,” I reply, and feel very satisfied when his eyes widen.

“I do love hearing those filthy words come out of your pretty mouth,” he murmurs in that slow Cajun accent that makes me crazy. His fingers are rubbing my lips harder now, gliding effortlessly through my wet folds. Finally, he scoots down, kisses my navel piercing, slides one finger inside me, and plants his mouth on my clit, not sucking, just being and I cry out, gripping the cushions at my hips, pushing my hips up to grind on his lips.

He pulls the finger back out, and gently licks over my lips, clit and folds, plants the flat of his tongue over my clit, and pushes two fingers inside me; I push up onto my elbows, watching as he turns me inside out.

“Oh, my God, Eli, you’re gonna make me…”

He pulls away, kisses me between my navel and pubis, and grins when I growl at him.

“Your pussy is so soft,” he says, as though he’s just making casual conversation. His fingers are moving in and out, slowly, methodically. If he’d just press his thumb on my sweet spot, I’d come spectacularly.

But I have a feeling that’s not going to happen yet.

“You have this spot…” he shoves his fingers all the way in, and makes a come here motion that makes me see stars. “Right behind your pubic bone. Don’t close your eyes,” he orders. I look up at him as his fingers pick up speed. He’s watching me as he pushes on that spot again.

“How didn’t I know about this spot before?” I ask breathlessly, and then cry out when he settles the tips of his fingers there and rubs gently.

His eyes flare in male satisfaction. “You’re good for my ego, cher.”

“You’re good for my,” I swallow, “pussy.”

“Fuck yes, I am.” He rubs a little harder and I arch up off the couch. “Come, baby.”

And that’s all it takes, his voice, his breath on my skin, his fingers doing crazy amazing things inside me, and I come apart. I go blind, my core tightens, and I ride the wave of the orgasm as it shoots through me.

When I open my eyes, Eli is smiling down at me. He pulls his fingers out and covers me, guides himself inside me until he’s balls-deep, and stays there, not moving.

I grip onto his cock with my muscles and grin when he swears under his breath. His jeans are still on, which for some reason, I find very sexy.

Everything about him is fucking sexy.

I grip his ass and pulse against him. “Move, Eli.”

He shakes his head and tips his forehead against mine. “Not yet.”

His whiskey eyes are trained on mine. He watches me as he pulls his hips back, then pushes back in slowly. “Your face is so expressive,” he whispers. “And this feels so fucking amazing.”

“The ridge of your cock rubs against that spot you’ve discovered,” I whisper.

“Like that?” His smile is more than a little naughty.

“So good.”

I bite my lip and tighten on him as he drags in and out of me. His eyes are on me, hands buried in my hair, gripping onto my scalp as he moves, and it occurs to me: this is what the fuss is all about. This is how a woman is supposed to be touched, looked at.

Respected.

Protected.

It’s so unfamiliar to me, and sad at the same time, because I was married damn it, and I had no idea. How is it that sex with the man I was supposed to love was just…empty? And sex with Eli is…everything?

But Eli and I agreed. No love. Just fun.

This has an expiration date.

“Stop,” he demands and begins to move faster, a bit harder.

“Stop what?”

“Thinking.” He does something with his hips that has me gasping for breath, and in this moment, I can’t remember my own name. “Grip my cock, Kate.”

He pulls one of my legs up onto his shoulder to open me wider, and he sinks deeper inside, bumping my pubis with his, and holy shit, I see stars.

“Eli.”

“That’s right, baby.” He smiles down at me. “You’re amazing. I can see it building. Come for me.”

I bite my lip and close my eyes, bear down on him, and fall apart all over again, shocked that it’s so soon.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he cups my ass and clutches me close to him, grinding inside me as he finds his own release. “Fuck, Kate.”

“Yes,” I sigh. “You just fucked Kate.”

“As soon as I can move, you’re getting spanked for that.”

“You like it when I say fuck.”

“I like spanking you too.”

I feel him grin against my chest where he’s resting and smile in return. I rather like the spanking myself.

I like Eli. And that could be dangerous.

Chapter Thirteen

I’m gonna spank your ass for that.

And, boy, did he.

I grin and bite the end of my pen as I sit at my desk. I had a productive morning, but now all I can do is daydream about being at the inn…Making love until the wee hours of the morning…Breakfast with Gabby and a very chatty Sam…Walking in the gardens.

Eli finding my G-spot.

I also thought that was a myth. Apparently, I was wrong.

So very wrong.

I giggle and touch my suddenly very warm cheeks. Is it hot in here?

“Hilary!” Mr. Rudolph calls from his office, and I roll my eyes. That’s the third time today that he’s called me Hilary.

Seriously, I’ve been here for three weeks. Shouldn’t he have figured out by now that I’m not Hilary? Kate isn’t a hard name to learn.

I walk briskly into his office. “My name is Kate, Mr. Rudolph.”

He glances up and flicks his hand, as if it doesn’t matter. “Whatever. I need you to run the month end tax reports for payroll.” He goes on about the other tasks he wants me to handle—tasks that are normally his—and keeps checking his watch. He seems twitchy. Nervous. Even his brow is sweaty.

He’s kind of creepy.

But then, he looks up at me, and his brown eyes are kind.

“Thanks for doing all of this. Kate, right?”

I nod and turn to leave his office, my to-do list out of control.

“I’m leaving for the rest of the afternoon,” he informs me, as he follows me out of his office and closes and locks the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He wipes his fingers over his mouth and hurries out, and I’m just…pissed. It must be nice to not have to work much. The man is out of the office more than he’s in it. He leaves every day at 1:30, like clockwork. Which really annoys me. Why would Eli have someone with such a poor work ethic working for him?