“Do I need to sort your lipstick out too?”
There was quick flicker of a smile. “You wear it well.”
She kissed my cheek and untangled herself from me, heading to the bathrooms. I watched her ass as she went and for the first time in months I felt alive.
Chapter Three
Ava
April
My sister was too absorbedin her own dating tribulations to question why I didn’t persuade her to carry on the night at a late bar or encourage further shenanigans that led to more drinks or even more of a meal at one of the many restaurants near where we lived. She was tired and irritable and fed up of men which distracted her from me calling it a night early under the pretence of having an early start in the morning.
Elijah had left me needy and wanting. He wasn’t my usual type; I tended towards the professions I worked with: architects, surveyors, electricians… I stayed away from suits usually, having enough office chatter from my family. I hadn’t wanted to carry on the family practice, needing to be outside and hands on, although I did use a computer for some of my designs. Being the youngest, I was spoilt and babied, so no one batted an eyelid when I announced I was off to New York to study interior design, they just worried about me being away from home. But I had six older siblings who’d all made enough mistakes for me to have learned plenty, so I was more than prepared, plus I was a damn sight more astute than my family would give me credit for. Which was why Eli was a gamble, a huge one. It was meant to be one night, one night where the itch was scratched and as he was hugely attractive and forbidden, he was even more tempting. I was aware I was possibly a rebound, but that wasn’t a deterrent.
Right now, I wasn’t looking for anyone to bowl me over and take me hostage in their palace of love. I wanted a good hard body and a man who knew how to use it to make me sing. Elijah Ward could well make the shortlist for that position, and a few other positions I had in mind. A repeat of the other week was definitely on the do-something-for-yourself-list for today, and probably tomorrow morning too.
The address he’d messaged me wasn’t too far from Silvia’s, just a couple of blocks away. He lived in a rented apartment in a block I was familiar with, having decorated some of the homes inside. I didn’t expect Eli to have much more than a cursory nod to soft furnishings, thinking it would be minimal and fairly bare. Given that he had planned for his ex to move back down at some point, his apartment was a stepping stone to somewhere more permanent.
I pressed the buzzer to his apartment and the door to the entry swung open. Noticing buildings and places was what I did and I liked nothing more than going to someone’s home and seeing how their personality had dictated their living choices. Reading people was key for my business; both through their mannerisms and characteristics and outward style as well as their interiors. I’d once had a client who was a banker, a big honcho who scared the shit out of his workers. He commissioned me to help redesign his bedrooms after his kids had properly moved out. I’d expected a house full of trophies all proclaiming how rich he was but instead his house was filled with memories, a mishmash of old furniture passed down from his grandparents and furnishings that were gifts when he and his wife married thirty years before. It was beautiful in a comfortable way and I had the time of my life incorporating their treasures into a more modern style.
Eli opened his door wearing just sweatpants, his chest bare. His skin was darker than mine, suiting the almost black of his hair and stubble and his chest was enough to take my eyes away from his face and stare. Stare hard. And for long enough until he started to laugh.
“Why don’t you come in and then you can look at my body all night without the neighbours wondering what the hell you’re doing?” he said and I looked up, meeting his eyes and hoping I didn’t have any drool dropping from my mouth.
“You’re cut,” I said. “And hot. For an old man.”
I felt a hand smack my ass and a rush of heat fled to my pussy. “Let me show you what old men can do,” he said quietly, keeping his hand on my ass as I walked into his apartment.
It wasn’t what I was expecting. His lounge was filled with sports memorabilia: signed rugby shirts, a boxing glove autographed by Joe Calzaghe, a tennis racket that had belonged to Martina Navratilova. There were throws and even cushions. And photographs.
“Wow,” I said, eyes searching the walls.
“I preferred it when you were staring at me,” he replied.
“You’re jealous of your own home?” I turned round to face him and saw his chest again and that firm jaw, lips that had kissed every square inch of my skin and suddenly his home wasn’t as captivating.
“Fuck, yes,” he said. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Just water.” I followed him through to the kitchen, missing his touch, missing his gaze. He poured two glasses from a jug of filtered water in his fridge and passed me one.
“How was Payton?”
“Fine,” I said. “If you believe her. She needs a rest.”
“I know.Weknow. Did you tell her where you were going?” he asked.
I wondered if he was worried by what my brothers’ reactions would be if they knew where I was and what I was planning to do.
I shook my head. “She’ll have assumed I’ve gone to someone else’s.”
“So I’m just one of your stable of rides?” His eyes danced and I wondered how amused he actually was.
“It’s a lonely stable,” I said. “There’s only you in it at the moment.” My voice sounded quiet, even in a room where there was no background noise or even sounds from the street below.
Eli stepped closer, trapping me between him and the kitchen worktop. I opened my arms and wrapped them over his shoulders, pressing my tits to his chest. He felt firm and solid against me and I trailed my fingers over his skin, trying to memorise every small detail, each muscle and every nuance.
His hands were on my hips, still, as if he was waiting for me to finish touching him, but I didn’t know when I’d be done, if I’d ever be done. “What time do you need to be up in the morning?” he said, his nose nuzzling my hair.
