I nodded. Both of us could use a solid eight hours.
“I’m going to make some tea.” She stood, grabbed both of our empty plates, and pushed back her chair. “Do you want any?”
“Sure,” I said, realizing I didn’t so much want tea as I wanted to prolong the minutes left before bedtime.
I packed up the leftover casserole, slid it back in the fridge while Sylvie filled the kettle and washed our plates and silverware, storing them neatly in the drying rack. She pulled out a box of herbal tea and set up two mugs with two tea bags, and turned, maybe to ask me if I wanted honey or sugar.
I never found out because she was right there, standing in front of me, her damp hair waving off her face, that rosebud mouth so close, and I didn’t have it in me to step back.
Her hand came up and rested on my chest, right over my heart. “Are you okay? Today was a lot.”
The concern in her eyes broke my restraint.
My hand came up, skimming her jaw, my fingers diving into her thick, cool hair. I tilted her face to mine andtook her mouth, her full lips as soft and sweet as I’d expected. When her tongue flicked out, I was lost, pulling her closer, molding her body to mine. She moaned in the back of her throat, and I feasted. This was what I’d wanted—not just her holding me, making me laugh, but tasting her, feeling her mouth move under mine, the soft breath in her throat.
Her hands slid around my back, her head tilted up, mouth moving eagerly, fingertips finding the hem of my shirt and gliding up to spread across my back, digging in, pulling tight until we were plastered to one another.
I wanted?—
I wanted. Period.
I wanted to strip off those pajamas, to lift her up and lay her back on the counter. I wanted to hear that moan—not trapped in the back of her throat, muffled by our kiss, but set free, deep and needy. I wanted to hear her come because I’d brought her to that. I wanted to watch her eyes bright with pleasure, hungry with need, her body moving over mine while I cupped her breasts, tasted her, possessed her.
And at that thought, I lifted my head. One kiss and I’d gone from lust to a depth of need I’d never known before. Because one kiss wasn’t enough. Not even close.
I stepped back, drawing my hand from her hair, my lips from hers. I couldn’t resist tracing one fingertip down her cheekbone to stroke across her lower lip, swollen and damp from our kiss.
“Sleep well, Sylvie,” I said and strode down the hall to my room, not trusting myself to wait for that cup of tea.
Chapter Sixteen
SYLVIE
Eli walked down the hall to his room as if he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
He shut his door, and I exhaled, rattled in the best possible way.
I’d thought about kissing him. Wondered, maybe even wished a little when I let myself, but I hadn’t expected that. That was something altogether different than anything I’d ever experienced.
Potent.
I was flushed with heat, my skin branded everywhere he touched me. I raised a finger to run it along my swollen lower lip. Hot damn, that had been a hell of a kiss.
But my life was a mess. I was homeless, my career on hold, and temporarily flat broke. I was not in a position to be starting anything with any man. Definitely not with my reluctant partner, who was helping my investigation but also keeping things from me.
On one hand, I trusted Eli with my life. And on the other, I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him—which, considering his size and my biceps, wasn’t very far. So many good reasons to forget he’d just laid one on me.
I jumped as the kettle shrilled beside me. Fuck, it had all happened fast. In the time it took to boil water, Eli Bishop had rocked my world.
I took the kettle off the heat and flipped the spout open, shutting off the whistle. I filled my cup with steaming water. Eli’s sat beside it. Guess he hadn’t really wanted that tea. What he had wanted—for just a few minutes—was me.
I bobbed the tea bag in my cup, thinking as red hibiscus spread through the hot water. On one hand, getting involved with Eli was a terrible idea. Of course it was. Mixing business with pleasure. Blah, blah. But we were both adults, and my body hummed with desire for more. Everything had been going wrong lately—but not that kiss. That kiss had felt very, very right.
Lost in thought, I added honey to my tea, gave it a stir, and followed the same path Eli had taken down the hall to the bedrooms, turning left where he’d turned right. His door was firmly shut, light leaking from beneath.
Was he really going to bed, or was he just avoiding me? I didn’t know. Did it matter? Not if there wasn’t going to be a repeat of that kiss.
I went through the motions of getting ready for bed. There wasn’t much to do, considering I was already in my pajamas and had already washed my face. I brushed my teeth, thinking fleetingly that doing that before drinking tea with honey was probably a waste, but God knew I wasn’t perfect.
