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I see the passion in his eyes, hear it in his words. But it’s all wasted on me.
“Onyourdime! And every time I think back on those trips, they’ll be tainted by your presence!” I shout back, the burn of my fears causing my eyes to water.
He lets go of my hands, so quickly, I almost stumble backwards. “You hate me that much?”
The quiet question lingers like falling leaves and I let it settle before answering him. “You offered to buy my business, not my adoration.”
His eyes are on the ground as he listens, licking his lips before speaking again. “Are you foolish enough to think you won’t fall in love with me, Eloise?”
Green eyes peer up at me through thick lashes and…I’m not that foolish.
But I lie.
To save myself the heartache when he leaves.
“Get your head out of the clouds, Ezra. We are not a couple of kids hopped up on hormones. This will never end the way you’re picturing it will.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE FALL IS INEVITABLE
EZRA
I hope it never ends.
But I can’t say that. I can’t push her that close to the edge, in the hopes that she’ll fall with me. Instead, I lean toward her, so close I can feel the strands of hair framing her face brush against mine.
“Don’t get hurt,” she whispers, words that I want to taste.
“I’m a big boy,” I remind her, wishing she would let go of her reservations and just…be.
As if to prove the point, I back her against the nearest tree, my gaze settled on her lips. She tilts her chin with indignation, pride shining in her eyes, and my hand finds her neck. I press my thumb into the soft space above her collarbone before using my fingers at the back of her neck to bring her to me.
It’s madness. It’s trying to convince, begging to stay, wishing to go, all at once. Her soft lips meld against mine and I try not to fall in love with her.
I try so fucking hard.
The fall is inevitable.
I pull away from her, pressing my fingers against her parted lips. She opens her mouth and sucks them.
“Think you can handle me?” I ask, taking it to a place we’re both comfortable with. She can handle lust, desire, slick sex that makes it impossible for us to stay away for too long.
“I know I can,” she answers before we’re tearing at each other’s clothes, fabric ripping and stretching.
I hardly have her panties down before I’m sliding my palm against her, hissing at the warm wetness that greets me.
She may reign supreme, but this is where I rule.
I follow her down as she pulls her shirt off, revealing a delicate pink bra. It’s nice, but it’s nothing compared to what I have for her upstairs. I want to see her in the lingerie I bought her while I was gone, to watch every natural and delicate curve fit into extravagant little straps that were made to bring men like me to their knees.
Which is where I currently am.
Her bare breast is revealed, its dusty rose peak is sheer perfection as I run my thumb over it, watching her lips quiver in reaction.
But there’s no time to continue before she’s tugging at my shorts, her eyes widening at the sight of my erection.
This is where most men would let their egos take over and say something moronic like, “Like what you see?”
