I take the bag, peeking inside. The smell of dark chocolate and butter wafts up. “You’re too good to me, Eli.”
“How are you holding up?” he asks, his eyes searching mine. “Texts seemed a bit frantic earlier. The cooler situation getting worse?”
The cooler. Right. That was the excuse I gave him for my bad mood.
“It’s… a mess,” I say, which isn’t a lie. “We have to clear everything out in two weeks. It’s overwhelming.”
“I can help,” he offers immediately. “I can rent a van and bring it over. We can move the inventory after service. It’ll take one trip.”
“You already do so much, plus Norah’s mates have got it handled for now. Thank you for offering though.”
“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. I just want to help.”
I look at him—this kind, generous, beautiful man who is offering to help me move heavy boxes in the snow. My heart aches with affection.
But my body has other needs. The stress of the day, the conversation with Stella, the financial weight… it’s all coiled tight in my muscles. I need release. I need to feel something other than panic.
I step into his space, my hands resting tentatively on the lapels of his coat. I don’t pull him in yet; I just wait. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, his hands find my waist, steadying me.
“You’re shaking,” he says softly, his gaze searching mine.
“I’m wound so tight, Eli,” I whisper, my hand sliding lower, hovering just over the belt of his jeans. I meet his eyes, letting the question hang there between us. “I need to not think for a while. With you.”
His breath hitches, but he doesn’t look startled. He looks hungry. He leans his forehead against mine, his grip tightening on my hips.
“Long day,” I breathe against his skin. “Can we skip the talking? I just need you.”
“Fuck. Uh-huh.”
“Yeah?” My hand slides down to the front of his jeans.I cup him through the denim, feeling the hard heat of him.
Eli inhales sharply, his eyes widening behind his glasses. “Yes, Amber.”
I rub his bulge through the denim, picturing just how good it will feel when he finally sinks into me.
“I need you, Elijah.”
He groans, a low sound that vibrates against my chest. He reaches up, cupping both my cheeks in his warm hands, forcing me to look at him. His eyes are dark, burning with an intensity that matches my own.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he says, and then he kisses me.
It’s not a sweet kiss this time. It’s hungry. Possessive. He kisses me like he’s starving, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, claiming me.
I moan, my fingers fumbling with the button of his coat, pushing it off his shoulders as we make our way to the back of the store.
He lets the coat drop to the floor and reaches for the hem of my sweater, tugging it upward. I break the kiss just long enough to pull it over my head, tossing it onto the nearest shelf.
I’m not wearing a bra—rarely do when I’m working late—and the cool air of the shop puckers my skin.
Eli doesn’t give me a chance to be modest. He backs me up against the counter, lifting me effortlessly so I’m sitting on the edge. He steps between my legs, his hands covering my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, ducking his head to take one peak into his mouth.
I gasp, my head falling back, my fingers tangling in his hair. The sensation is electric, shooting straight down to my core.
I grind against him, needing more friction, more pressure. “Eli, please,” I beg.
He pulls back, his breathing ragged. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, extracting a foil packet. He tosses it onto the counter next to my hip.
