Connor gave him some serious side eye. “Okay. If, say, I were to send our younger sister to your house on a random errand in about an hour she wouldn’t be emotionally scarred by activities conducted with female visitors, would she?”
No, because he wouldn’t be at his house.
“No, but she’ll wake me up and I’d be forced to come over here and shove your head in a toilet.”
Connor smiled. “Interesting. Well, fine, I won’t send her over. And I won’t bug you.”
Eli grunted and walked out of the house, feeling very much like he’d already been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But he didn’t care. He was going to go eat his damn cookies anyway.
* * *
Sadie was a ball of nervous energy. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, heat pooling in her stomach, arousal throbbing between her legs.
She was expecting him soon. And she’d been waiting all day. No, she’d been waiting for this all week. This was what she wanted, and now that she was finally embracing it she was free to appreciate how much she truly craved him.
She wanted more than against the wall. She wanted him naked. All the way naked. In bed. For hours. Subject to her exploration and any twisted desires she might have. She didn’t usually have desires she’d consider twisted, but she hadn’t ruled anything out with Eli.
Because he made her feel like a giant ball of want. Like a ticking time bomb of need that was ready to explode all over her living room—which was currently spotless, because after she’d done any and all planning she could do for the barbecue alone, and after she’d ordered bedding online for all of the bedrooms in the house, she’d had nothing better to do but clean.
You know. The floor, the wall, the kitchen counter. Just in case he wanted to bang her on unconventional surfaces. She did not need a nasty kernel of cat food right by her head while Eli was trying to satisfy her on the living room rug.
“Oh...cat,” she said aloud.
Toby might not allow for sexual spontaneity.
He was currently sprawled over the blue armchair in the living room, looking like the tragic victim of a train collision, his paws out straight, head cocked back and to the side, his back legs up and spread.
“You’re a sophisticated beast, Toby.”
He didn’t move. But of course, it was because it didn’t suit him to move. If Eli started making out with her on the couch Toby would probably wake up and decide the only place in the world he wanted to be was on Eli’s lap.
And she wasn’t going to go locking him in the bathroom or anything just so she could have a good time in the room of her choice. The thing with Eli was physical. Toby, though he couldn’t speak actual words, was her friend. Who had stuck with her through it all, mainly because his other choice was a life on the streets as a mouser and he wouldn’t engage in anything so gauche.
Either way, she wasn’t prioritizing her hookup over her cat’s comfort.
Besides, she was having soft, luxurious bed fantasies. And that was better anyway.
The heavy knock on her front door had her scrambling toward the entryway, her heart bouncing around in her chest like a rubber ball that had been thrown at a wall as hard as possible.
She stopped for a second and looked down at the scoop-neck dress she was wearing. Then she leaned forward, reached down the front of the dress and cupped her breast, tugging it up in her bra before doing the same to the other one.
She took a breath and examined her improved cleavage. “Okay. We’re good. We can do this.”
She shook her head, her hair falling over her shoulders, then walked to the door, grabbing the handle and opening it.
“Hi,” she said, going for casual.
“Can we not do the talking thing?” he asked. “You just get mad at me when we talk.” He shifted, the bag he was holding rustling with the motion.
“I’m okay with that.”
He walked into the house without waiting for her to invite him in, his presence dominating the entryway, filling it. He was a solid wall of man, and now that she’d been naked with him, she knew just how solid.
Knew how his skin felt beneath her hands, how his lips felt on hers, how his stubble felt against soft skin.
And she didn’t want to talk, either.
“I want you naked,” he said. “Now.”
“Should we go into the bedroom...?”
“No,” he said, slamming the door shut, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the peg.
That made her smile, because even in his dark intensity he couldn’t bring himself to make a mess. Even now, he was still conscious of order.
But that was okay, because it was part of what made him him.
And no matter what she said about not liking him, she had to like him at least a little bit, or any male body would do. There was something special about this male body that went past muscles and body hair and...well...generous physical attributes down below the belt.
And that was the soul that was in the body.
The thought made her chest feel tight. Made it hard to breathe. But then, that could just be because he was looking at her like a starving man might eye a piece of very chocolaty cake.
She took a breath, banished the nerves and made eye contact with him as she reached around behind her back and tugged the zipper on her dress down.
She folded her shoulders in slightly and let it fall to the floor, left herself standing there in nothing but a lacy black bra and matching panties.
She’d never been insecure about her body. She had one small scar from her laparoscopic surgery, but nothing too noticeable. Which was good, because she rarely had to explain it, and she barely thought about it, since it was so close to invisible.
