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?
I set the list Mr. Rudolph just handed me aside, and decide to get some of my own work done. I examine the spreadsheet of all of the transfers of large sums of money that are unaccounted for so far, and try to find a common link. The amounts are all different. They range in size of a few hundred dollars to several thousand. It seems that lately, they’ve gotten bigger. One was almost ten thousand dollars. But they’re not sent on the same day, or even on a regular schedule.
The only consistent thing is that they’re transfers to Western Union. No name on these reports.
Don’t you have to have an I.D. to pick up money from Western Union? I call a local branch, and sure enough.
Okay, who were they sent to?
Just as I’m about to start digging to find a name, something else occurs to me. The time of day the transfers were made were all around 1:00 in the afternoon, give or take a minute or two. I flip through them all, and sure enough, every single one is around the same time.
Interesting.
I glance at the time on the computer and frown. Mr. Rudolph leaves at 1:30 almost every day. I find each transaction in the computer, and I search for the name of the recipient at Western Union.
H. Peters.
Who in the hell is H. Peters?
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?
I set the list Mr. Rudolph just handed me aside, and decide to get some of my own work done. I examine the spreadsheet of all of the transfers of large sums of money that are unaccounted for so far, and try to find a common link. The amounts are all different. They range in size of a few hundred dollars to several thousand. It seems that lately, they’ve gotten bigger. One was almost ten thousand dollars. But they’re not sent on the same day, or even on a regular schedule.
The only consistent thing is that they’re transfers to Western Union. No name on these reports.
Don’t you have to have an I.D. to pick up money from Western Union? I call a local branch, and sure enough.
Okay, who were they sent to?
Just as I’m about to start digging to find a name, something else occurs to me. The time of day the transfers were made were all around 1:00 in the afternoon, give or take a minute or two. I flip through them all, and sure enough, every single one is around the same time.
Interesting.
I glance at the time on the computer and frown. Mr. Rudolph leaves at 1:30 almost every day. I find each transaction in the computer, and I search for the name of the recipient at Western Union.
H. Peters.
Who in the hell is H. Peters?
