He was ready to ask her to shut up and stop overloading him with superfluous information when the next one hit him on the leg. It was blue with spots, soft and downy, and it didn’t hurt one bit.
She yammered on, “Olivia found that one for me. Renata was with us—you know Ren, right? We were thrifting one day, I actually think it was like two weeks after my birthday…” She carried on, scritching her long purple nails over the pillow’s pattern. He lost track of her story, for understandable reasons, caught in a trance as her hands and lips moved this way and that, animated and beguiling. “…Liv’s hair looks great. I bet she’d love a mani-pedi, maybe just a manicure, she doesn’tlovehaving her feet touched.”
“You’re doing it, Fern.” His voice came out a low rumble as he warred with the desire to have her mouth, those nails, and her focus, on him in every way.
Her eyes swung to his and stayed there while she reached into the box and pulled out another fucking pillow. “Doing what?” she asked coyly, stepping toward him. “This one’s from Arizona. Look at the weave, isn’t it amazing? It’s Diné-made.”
“Fern.” Unable to stop himself, he stepped closer to her, plucking the pillow from her hands and tossing it behind him.
“What?”
“You know what.”
Caught in her gaze, he didn’t notice she’d grabbed another pillow until she held it up, a smirk stealing across her features. “This one’s from Wisconsin. I—”
He hooked a finger beneath her chin, tipping her face up. The pillowthumpedto the floor. “I don’t care about your goddamn collection.”
“No? What do you care about?” There was a lethal gleam in her eyes. Before he could stop her, she reached back and grabbed another one, shoving it between them, her gaze flicking down to it. “This one's fromTJ Maxx in the plaza near—”
In one smooth motion, he ripped it from her hands, slid a palm around her back, and pulled her to him.
He had to bend to reach her, but when he did, when his mouth found hers, stars exploded behind his eyelids and his bear began to purr. He hoped she couldn’t hear it.
Motherfucker, she was perfect. Her warm hands snaked beneath his arms to wrap around his torso, nails scratching gently up and down his back.
He wasn’t supposed to be doing this.
Soft lips still touching his, she murmured, “I—”
“Shh,” he whispered, to his thoughts as much as to her, and she nodded, her nose rubbing the side of his. Tentatively, their mouths explored new territory until her hot tongue ran over his lips, urging him to open up for her.
Their kiss deepened, and Elliott's hands dropped from her lower back to her ass. He squeezed, and she tried to pull him closer with her arms around his waist. It wasn’t a great angle; he had too much height on her. So he cupped her cheeks and broke their kiss, just long enough to move her to the futon.
Laughing, she flailed, kicking pillows onto the floor as he dropped over her and resumed what they’d started, one foot planted on the ground to keep from crushing her.
Her small sounds intoxicated him. She gasped when he nuzzled into her neck to inhale every morsel of her scent. Fern’s nails dug into his shoulder while her other hand slid down his back. Unable to properly grope his ass due to his size, she planted her palm on his outer cheek.
A buzz in Elliott’s pocket pulled a groan up his throat. There were thirty minutes left on his proofing dough. Fuck. He needed to get to the store and back home, stat. Before he lost his chance, before his mind started functioning properly again—because he knew he was in a daze—he slipped a hand between them and rasped his thumb over her nipple, earning a sharp inhale that had his cock straining to break free.
Not right now. Not ever. This was a god-awful idea. She was too cute,too kind, and she liked his music.
He broke their kiss abruptly and flung himself off the futon.
With rosy cheeks and mussed hair, Fern blinked, looking lost.
“Sorry. I, uh— Groceries.”
Swinging herself up to a sitting position, she pulled the blue spotted pillow onto her lap and laughed. “No, I get it. I’ve kept you long enough. I need to unpack before tonight, as you can see. But thank you—for the help and the food and the weed. Will you be at Liv and Ben’s?”
He nodded while fighting his bear to turn and walk toward the door. The beast had no interest in leaving and didn’t care about bread or bruschetta. Buthecared, quite a lot. He didn’t want his damn routine changed, and see how easily she got him to do that?
“I’ll see you then?”
“Yeah. See you tonight.” He couldn’t think of anything better to say, his mind spiraling as he berated himself for following through onsucha stupid idea.
The door clicked behind him, and her music surged louder. “Sugar Magnolia” was on again, the album having looped around to where they began.
His lips tingled in the aftermath of their poorly thought-out kiss, and Elliott swiped a hand across his mouth, trying to wipe the sensation away before it wormed itself permanently into his memory.
