“Thank you, Ramona.” Eli extends a hand.
Ramona’s cheeks turn pink when she shakes it, eyes dipping down his naked torso.Me too, girl, me too.
“Where’s your car?” Eli’s attention turns back to me. Goosebumps trail down my arms when I see how close he’s standing.
“Too—took a ride-share.” My teeth chatter.
Eli glances behind him, head cocking to the side. We’re on the path tucked away from the parking lot. Ramona and her assistant are nowhere to be seen now. When his gaze comes back to mine, it’s hot enough to start a forest fire.
His fingers hook the elastic on the neckline of my dress, and in one swift pull, I’m left standing in my underwear, in the middle of Willow Park. Goosebumps rise over my whole body when cool air touches my wet skin.
A tortured groan comes from Eli, eyes dipping to the bow on my cotton panties.
“Eli!” I slap his shoulder, snapping him out of his trance.
“Shit, sorry.” He rubs the towel over my chest and stomach, slipping his t-shirt over my wet hair. I take the towel from him, stepping out of my dress when he crouches down and taps my calf. He straightens, taking the dress with him.
Squeezing as much water from my hair as possible, I follow Eli back to his truck. How I didn’t see the big F-250 that says Logan Construction on the side, sitting in the parking lot, I’ll never know.
“You didn’t bring a car?” He practically rips the truck door open, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowed at me.
“Kel still has it in the shop.” I shrug.
I’m used to Eli being gruff—this is who he is. This is the Eli Logan me and everyone else in the world gets. The guy who just played with me, kissed me senseless, the one who has fun? That’s Tucker’s dad.
“It could have been some creep. I could have been a rapist, and you would have been stuck here, waiting for a ride-share.”
I snort, chucking my purse onto the floorboard. “There was a whole ass photographer here. Plus, it was just you.”
Green eyes narrow again, his chest bumping into mine as he leans into my space.
“What do you mean,justme?”
I gulp, fortifying myself, trying to get my breathing under control. My back arches into the bench seat as I lean away from him, half of me inside the warmth of his truck. His grip is bruising, but I don’t care. Eli might lose control, might unravel altogether, but he would never hurt me. Of that, I am absolutely certain.
“I mean, it’s you. I’m safe. So it’s fine?—”
“Sibby,” he growls. “You are anything but safe with me right now.”
I’m trembling again, the heat from his hand on my bare thigh burns me up from the inside out. It’s the most delicious kind of pain, the way he’s barely clinging to his control.
“How long before you need to grab Tucker?” My fingers slip into his thick hair—a gasp bursts between my lips when a wandering hand ghosts over my nipple.
“Kel told me not to hurry back,” he murmurs into my skin. His lips pulling, teeth teasing, marking me.
“Eli.” My voice comes out like a purr.
“Mmm?” Hooded eyes meet my gaze.
“Get in the truck.”
Heat flashes through his eyes. Big, calloused hands grip my thighs, hoisting me off the ground. He all but shoves me into the passenger seat, slamming my door closed, the handle stinging my ass when it connects.
I watch Eli stalk around the back, his door swinging open. One hand holding the lever to move the seat back, the other working the button on his wet jeans. When the seat is back as far as possible, he wiggles out of the dark denim, tossing them to the floor of the back seat. I reach a hand back and knock one leg off Tucker’s car seat. Poor kid doesn’t deserve a wet seat.
“Come here.” Eli reaches across the center console, one hand slipping into my hair. I can feel my face flush, the sudden realization of what we’re doing—what I’m doing with Eli Logan—hits me hard.
He doesn’t pressure me, doesn’t yank me over the center console. Instead, his gaze softens, his fingers untangling from my hair to cupmy jaw.
