The smile on his lips brushed against the heat of her core, meeting his fingers there. “Only a simmer. We’ll get to a full boil soon.”
Mouth and hands and pressure and bliss—Eli rubbed and sucked and did his thing. She moaned, fisting her hands into the sheets until he pushed her over the edge of release. She was falling. And Eli was there to catch her.
When she finally came up from bliss, he sat up slowly, a grin on his face that made her insides warm.
Boiling water was pretty damn fun.
He moved from the bed, nearly making her cry. With his erection standing tall, he disappeared to the bedroom. Then he hurried back, a small plastic square in his hand.
“Tell me you have another tuxedo condom,” she murmured, the back of her knuckles brushing the pillow over her head as she stretched.
“No such luck.” He drew the remarkably normal condom over the length of himself.
Her cheeks heated, the intimacy of what he did so intense. They’d been sharing a home for a month, she’d invaded his life, but watching him prepare himself to take her? For some reason, with Eli, the move sharpened everything to a level far past what she’d ever experienced with just sex.
This wasn’t just sex.
Not like before.
This was Eli. They would wake up tomorrow and still live together. Still be married. Still have to get through the rest of the divorce.
Tonight, though? Tonight, he would be inside her.
She spread her thighs to make room for him, took his weight, and breathed his scent of oak and Eli. As she arched her back to meet him, he seated himself inside her warmth.
Like it was the first time for them.
“Eli,” she whispered, catching his gaze. He had to know that it was only him in that moment. Only them.
His eyelids fell heavy. The thick cords of his neck pulsed with his restraint. She moved, urging him on. “I’m ready for you.”
That was all it took. He snapped.
He pressed inside her, stretching, filling. She moved against him, urging him on. There were no words—there didn’t need to be. He set the rhythm and she matched it, meeting each thrust with a tilt of her hips.
The water was at a boil and they were on fire.
Together.
Chapter Fifteen
Eli’d had sex with his wife.
He peeled his eyes open, turning toward Marlee. She was still sleeping.
He needed to go back to the night before. Start it over again. Not complicate an already complicated situation. He didn’t want to go back, though.
Marlee was a beautiful woman, there was no one in the world who could deny that. Marlee may have lived in a world where women worked out fourteen hours a day to sculpt their bodies into masterpieces, but she didn’t have to. Marlee’s body was perfect as it was. The curves, the comfort of her wrapped around him. Her breasts heavy and real. Laugh lines starting to etch around the corners of her eyes that many in her world would’ve Botoxed away. But Marlee didn’t. They were part of who she was.
Yes, she was real.
And right then, she was his.
He’d never wanted someone to be his before. Didn’t want the responsibility that came with anything long term.
But with Marlee sleeping next to him? His heart tied itself into a confused knot.
He had a full day ahead of him. Food to make for people he didn’t know. What he needed to do was roll out of bed, hop in the shower, and get his ass to work. Get as far away from Marlee as he could before she got any further under his skin.
