Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,117
if she never finds out? She may not have to, right? If it works out, if they want the money bad enough she’ll never have to know. She’ll just know she doesn’t have to worry anymore. Not about tenure, not about saving the jobs of all her employees.”
But I read the doom on Eddie’s face.
And I worried.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Zora
I shivered, caught, floating on the thinnest wisp of consciousness. Breaths from reality, suspended in the indistinct shadows of a dream world.
Wicked fingers slid, drifted, cupped my breast, plucked at the berried stem of my nipple. I moaned, clenched my legs against the gathering heat below. Heat and warmth curled around me, blanketed me. Moist, hot, spearmint breaths collected in my ear. I captured the muscled arm stealthily traversing my hip, snaking through the valley of my waist.
“You up?” The sleep coarsened voice sent an involuntary finger of delight racing up my spine.
I took my time answering, luxuriating in the slow exploration of his questing fingers in the soft slick of our previous lovemaking.
“No. I’m asleep.”
His laughter, low and wicked, rolled over me. Bearded bramble dragged deliciously along my forehead as he shifted, his hand, fingers working my tightness in earnest. My hips lifted, churned, circled, slave to his spell.
“Well. What about Celeste?”
“Seems you two are already talking.”
The groan in his whiskered throat vibrated against my neck. “Baby. You’re so wet. Can I have you. Please?”
The words, and the clever torment of his fingers, tripped the wire. Ecstasy, blinding and stinging, stiffened all my limbs. Clamped me tight all around his fingers.
“That’s right.” Wet heat laved my nipple with excruciatingly light strikes. The added sensation seized my jerking hips, pushed a keening, indistinct sound from my throat.
“Please.”
The sly licking paused. “You sure you’re not asleep still?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Promise?” He lifted my leg, adjusted our position until the wide, broad head of his dick nudged my opening.
I reached back, my fingers gripping his hair, panting. Ready to beg.
“Please.”
He surged forward in an aggressive thrust just as his teeth sank into my neck. Our twin moans rose as I clenched around him, my hips desperate for every possible inch of him. He swore, turning and adjusting me until I was in the lewdest position possible, open and exposed to his bright eyes.
“You’re insatiable,” I accused, grasping for coherent language as his hips commenced a heavy roll that stretched me and stole all conscious thought.
When it was over, him limp and heavy atop me, me full and wet with him, I reflected I’d never known this quality of happiness existed.
“Breakfast is ready,” he gasped on what sounded like a dying breath. “I’ll bring it to you when I’m back on this planet.”
“That’s okay.” I smiled against his cheek, relishing the scrape. Loving that he was mine. “Let’s put on clothes and sit at a table like civilized people. For once.”
Less than an hour later, I met him in the kitchen. Now freshly showered, I smiled at the slight sting from the abrasive beard burn between my thighs.
God. There couldn’t be a happier woman on the planet. It wasn’t possible.
Nick shot me a heavy-lidded glance from across the kitchen table. “What are you over there smiling about?”
I lowered into my seat, unable to help the grin spreading across my face. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
He leaned forward, his gaze darting to my cleavage and the punctuation of my nipples beneath the coral silk robe.
The heat in his gaze, the flare of his nostrils, made me feel powerful.
“As a matter of fact, I would like to know. I can move this food and we can—”
I laughed, lowering my arms to encircle the plates. “No, sir, you won’t. I’m hungry and Celeste is on a time out. You’ve worn her out. Now, what is this?”
He eyed me for several beats before responding. “Looks like some kind of quiche. Emilio didn’t label it. Eggs, his favorite sweet potato hash—”
“Wait, who?”
“Emilio, my chef. He flew in yesterday, came in, and made a few meals for us while I was out.”
“So you didn’t make this? Your chef flew in? To make food for you?” I shook my head. “You have a chef?”
Nick handed the platter of bacon out to me. “Yeah, two. Emilio’s East Coast. I’ve got another guy for when I’m in San— What’s wrong?”
I stood up, went to the cabinet and opened the door so he wouldn’t see my expression. God, what was I doing? How had I managed to forget who he was, all he had? What