Derek expected me to clean up after him, cook all his meals, and practically be his mother. It’s why I went on strike from cooking after he went to jail, and I hightailed it out of Oregon. Microwave meals and easy dinners became something I reveled in. I ate out of the container, ate standing up, left dishes in the sink in my motel, and let myself do all the things that I could never do with Derek watching and judging my every move.
After we’ve eaten, Elias is grabbing my plate and empty OJ glass before I can lift a finger. I watch him with a smile, cradling my mug of hot coffee between my palms as he fills me in abouthis life in Missouri with his three older sisters and construction worker father.
As I watch him, I remember how good it felt when he held me in his arms, my pebbled nipples against the hard warmth of his chest, his deep, drugging kisses, and his knowing touch as his strong, firm fingers played with the globes of my ass.
He’d been lifting me onto the counter before Nico arrived. My thighs had been spreading on their own, with no prompting from him. We would have fucked on the kitchen counter, and despite my insistence on not wanting a relationship, I hadn’t done a thing to stop him.
I got used to being alone. I thought after leaving Derek and the divorce was final, that I’d stay alone, but being in a man’s arms had felt so good. And not just when he was kissing me. When he was hugging me to comfort me.
“You’re tempting me to kiss you again, beautiful.”
Elias’s soft words startle me. Good thing I’d finished my coffee, or I’d have spilled it all down myself. “Huh?”
I’m not sure when he finished cleaning up from our breakfast, but the counters are clear and everything put away. He leans against the sink, arms folded over his bare chest, studying me with hooded amber eyes.
“How am I doing that?” I set my empty mug down, playing coy.
“There’s a look in your eyes that says you like what you see.”
“Idolike what I see,” I tell him shyly.
He uncrosses his arms and offers me his hand. “Come here, beautiful.”
Curious if his gruff order will lead to another kiss or a hug, I get to my feet and walk over to him.
Widening his stance to make room for me between his muscled thighs, he wraps his arms around me, tucking meagainst his chest and kissing the corner of my mouth. “You are free to touch or kiss anything in this kitchen.”
“Even if that thing includes you?”
He grins down at me. “Especiallyif that thing includes me.”
He follows his tempting words with a kiss so distracting that I’m ready to crawl into his lap and let him do anything he wants to me. That’s how my body feels when he touches me.
Like it’s his.
Like I belong to him.
And that’s dangerous.
I ran from Derek. He found me. The fire he set in my apartment is a warning I can never let myself forget.Eliascould pay for protecting me with his life. I can’t let them do that.
I pull away from Elias when it’s the last thing I want to do. “Can you show me the house now?” I pretend I don’t see the tiny furrow between his brow.
Reluctantly, he takes his hands off me, and I edge away from him with a firm mental reminder that it might feel good when Elias touches me as if he knows exactly what I like, but it isn’t safe to let myself give in to my wants. Derek could kill him trying to get to me.
“Sure.” He straightens. “There’s a workshop out back. Wyatt is private about who goes in there, but I can show you all the rooms in the house.”
“What kind of workshop?” I ask as he leads the way out of the kitchen.
“Uh...” He scratches the back of his neck.
The action makes his pecs pop and causes my pussy to tighten. After a heated look at my breasts, he refocuses his attention on my face, and I cross my arms over my chest, pretending my nipples didn’t just pebble right in front of him.
He continues, “He’s pretty private about that too. He’ll tell you about it, though. Just ask.”
I doubt that. But I smile as if I believe him and let him show me around the gorgeous farmhouse they call home.
Chapter 10
