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The air between us is electric. Charged. The way he described earlier. I can feel it. In the way he’s looking at me. In the rise in my pulse. The pounding of my heart. Mostly, I feel it in the ache in my core.
The tension mounts with every passing second as we stare at each other. If I don’t break it now, I don’t see us making it downstairs to dinner.
“A little notice would have been nice,” I tease, tilting my head.
“I texted you an hour ago. You never answered. I figured you were going to try and sneak down there without me, so I came a little early.”
Rushing over to the bed, I snag my phone off the fluffy comforter and check my messages. Sure enough, I have one missed text from Eli. I also have five from the girls, but I’ll look at those later. I sent them pics of my toes and I’m guessing they’re praising my color choice.
“Taylor,” Eli calls, his voice deeper than normal, almost a growl. When I turn, I see why. In my haste to find my phone, the towel fell from my body and he’s currently dangling it from his finger. The gleam in his eyes as they roam every exposed inch of my body, searing my skin, is one of appreciation.
Desire.
Realizing I have two choices—stand strong or run scared—I test my resolve and try not to overthink my decision. Straightening my back, I square my shoulders and let him get his fill. When his eyes finally reach mine, I realize the mistake I’ve made. There’s a hunger in his that threatens to eat me alive.
And I like the way it makes me feel.
