Eventually, the familiar sounds of Eleanor’s favorite teenage movie lulled me into a false sense of security, and I finally got sucked into it. Twenty or so minutes passed in somewhat blissful coexistence before I felt a shudder work through Ellie, followed by a laugh that warmed my insides.
“That tickles,” she giggled, and that was when I realized thatmy hand had found its way to her foot, my fingers wrapped around it, dragging along her arch absentmindedly.
“Oh, shit, sorry.” I dropped her foot like it had burned me, but to my surprise, Ellie shook her head.
“No, I…I didn’t mind it.” She cast a look over her shoulder. “That spot just tickled more than the others.”
I knew which spot she was talking about. The curve right before her heel had always been sensitive.
“I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”
“I know,” she said, very matter-of-factly. One shoulder lifted and fell. “You always used to…” She stopped. Probably because she’d been about to say that I always used to touch her. I always had my hands on her. I always fidgeted with her clothes, her hair, her fingers. “I don’t mind,” she tried instead, repeating her words from earlier. “I…it’s nice. You can keep doing it.”
“Okay.” I wrapped my hand around her foot again, unable to turn down an opportunity to touch Ellie. “I’ll try not to tickle so much.”
“Maybe just press a little…” Her dark gaze flicked to my face. “Harder?”
I tried to convince myself that the gleam in her eyes, the way they simmered, was all in my head, but heat flared inside me anyway.
“You want a foot massage, El?”
Another shrug. “I mean, I’m not gonna say no.”
“Of course not,” I laughed before pressing my thumb into the arch of her foot.
“Mm,” Ellie hummed, her lips pressed together, eyes fluttering shut as she put her head back on her pillow.
Ah, fuck me. First the tacos, now this.
It wasn’t even very loud. It was the faintest noise of contentment, really. But I was so fucking attuned to the way this woman sounded when I was touching her, making her feel good. I craved those sounds, collected them as my prized possessions, recorded them in my head so I’d never forget how perfect she was.
Still, the rational thing to do would be to stop. To not push my luck here. But stopping might make a sad Ellie, and all I wanted in this world was a happy Ellie.
I cleared my throat. “Maybe I should add this to the list,” I quipped, trying to keep things light. Ya know, make it less obvious that her tiny, pleasure-filled hums shot straight to my dick.
Her eyes opened again, skirting to the side. To me. “The list?”
“Yeah, of the things I could do every night when I come over. Dishes, foot massage, bedtime story.”
“Oh my God,” she muttered, exasperated but smiling as she refocused on the TV.
And then anotheroh my Godcame out of her mouth, but it was more of a groan this time—in response to the way I workedboththumbs into her arch.
I must be a glutton for punishment because I didn’t stop. I continued to massage Ellie’s feet, switching back and forth between the two, despite how her little moans and mewls of appreciation were making my skin prickle with awareness. It only took a few minutes before my cock betrayed me, twitching to life, and I was just grateful that my lap was half-covered by the end of the blanket, and Ellie’s eyes were mostly staying on the TV.
I decided I’d happily do this every night. Honestly, the temptation and agony of wanting her was manageable as long as she didn’t?—
“Sawyer,” Ellie sighed, and my eyes shot to her face as my cock pulsed. She was staring at the TV like she didn’t even realize that she’d just mouthed my name like that, all throaty and wanton andfuck.
“Yeah, El?” I murmured before I had a chance to think better of it. “That feel good?”
“Mhm.”
I watched as she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, and a curse rasped out between my lips. Becausegoddamn, I still wanted that mouth so bad. I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it.
Ellie’s eyes darted to mine.
“What’s wrong?”
