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“Because I just wonder if all these questions you ask yourself—have you done enough—keep you up late at night.”
I sink back in the chair, feeling seen, feeling too seen. But not entirely minding. There’s something about Elodie’s easy intuitiveness that soothes me. There’s no judgment in how she reads a situation. Just curiosity. It feels different than Kylie, who was harder to get to know, who held pieces of herself back. “Yes. It takes me a long time to fall asleep. What about you?”
“I do worry about a lot of things, but honestly, I let them go at night.”
“Jealous. How the hell do you pull that off?” I ask, leaning closer, feeling a bit like we’re all alone in the back of the coffee shop as “Unforgettable” plays faintly overhead. Reminds me of the names of her chocolates, the old standards.
But I’m too interested in the convo to go off on that tangent, especially when she says, “Don’t laugh” like a warning.
“That’s almost a guarantee that I will.”
She wags a finger, the red polish on her nails gleaming. But my ring on her finger shines even brighter. “No teasing either.”
“Now I have to know. What’s the trick?”
With a smile like she has a secret, she lifts two fingers together and moves them in a come-hither motion.
Oh, fuck me. That’s hot. I’m pretty sure the temperature in this coffee shop shot through the roof. “Seriously? You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Self-care,” she says, smugly. Then earnestly, she adds, “Look, it works. It takes the edge off the day.”
“Now I want to watch you go to bed. Grab a chair in the corner of your bedroom. Enjoy the show,” I tell her, painting the picture I’m dying to see.
“You want that? Tickets to the show?”
“I want the only ticket,” I say.
She leans closer now, her hair falling and hiding the side of her face, adding to the privacy. “I’d do that. For you.”
I tug at my shirt collar. “Elodie,” I warn.
“Gage,” she fires back.
“Stupid fucking rules,” I mumble, wanting nothing more right now than to grab her beautiful face and kiss those lush lips, hard. “You’re making me want to finish what we started.”
“I’ve finished it a few times already,” she whispers. Her voice is feathery, full of lust.
“Same here.”
“Yeah?” I swear her dirty brain lights up. Her blue eyes flicker. “How? Do I suck you off? Or do you bend me over the bed? Or do you reach into my nightstand and take out one of my toys, then use it on me?”
My skin crackles. My cells burn. My muscles are strung tight with restraint. “You get on your knees, but I don’t finish that way. I haul you up in my arms, kiss those sexy lips, and then spin you around. And use one of your toys on you while I fuck you to countless orgasms.”
“You use my toys,” she says with filthy awe in her voice.
“Cupcake, we went on a date because of a toy. You better believe I’d make you come the way you want—with toys. Lots and lots of toys.”
She shudders and it’s a sight to behold, the way her desire moves like a wave through her body. Her eyes flutter closed. For a few heady seconds, she seems to be watching a filthy movie in her mind—the one we just wrote together.
Then, she opens her eyes. “I’ll sleep well tonight.” She blows out a long breath and flaps a hand in front of her face. “All right. We need a different topic. Something that won’t make me want to sit on your lap right now.”
I laugh, leaning back in my chair. “We could discuss the menu for our first night at Special Edition.”
She scoffs. “Right. Because cocktails and chocolate don’t turn me on.”
“Woman, you picked our business over pillow talk. You picked it because it’s sexy.”
“My point exactly. I can’t talk business with you to get rid of my hard nips.”
