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Not in gym clothes. Not in a suit. Not naked. Just Eli.
He's wearing loose, ripped light wash jeans that are rolled up a few times at the ankle, a form-fitted black v-neck, and suede Doc's. His wrists are donned with various dark jewelry; thin leather wraps and cuffs stacked with a watch. His thin black framed glasses do nothing to detract from his stunning blue eyes that have green flecks in the light. If anything, they, along with his freckles and light skin tone, make his eyes pop even more. My eyes drift down to the diamond snakebites on either side of his lower lip and my mind immediately reminds me of the fact that he has more piercings.Many more.
I take in the wide expanse of his colorful tattoos on display. They travel from his fingers and hands, up his arms, and to his neck. It doesn’t help the fact that I’ve seen him undressed, and I know that the majority of his body is covered in colorful artwork. Artwork that I want to explore. Discuss. Memorize.
His red hair is the same as it was months ago, shaved completely on one side, and longer on the top. It's flopped to the side, exposing a few tattoos that I never did get the chance to study the way I wanted to. I thought I would have more time. More time in the light of day. Swallowing, I meet his gaze. He's gorgeous. So, so gorgeous. He smirks, silently acknowledging that he knows I was checking him out. He says nothing as he picks up two of the trays and jerks his head at the rest.
An order.
Fuck. That.
I cross my arms.
His smirk widens as he stares me down.
I arch a brow.
Chuckling, he shakes his head and turns, depositing the drink carriers onto one of the marble bistro tables. I watch him in confusion as he drags one of the neighboring tables over, positioning it next to the first. He glances back at the coffee counter, eyeing his order before looking back at the small tables once more. Groaning, he drags another table over, linking three together to create a larger space, before coming back to pick up two more trays. He repeats the process until all of the drinks are set out where he wants them.
The entire time, I watch. I don't offer to help, I just watch. My stomach clenches. He's going to stay, isn't he?
When he's done, he flops down onto the couch and looks up at me, expectantly. "It's time for a coffee break, Violet."
I roll my eyes. "That's enough caffeine to burn through your entire stomach."
"Good thing I'm in a sharing mood then, isn't it?" he parries, not skipping a beat. He taps his fingers along the tabletop, never taking his eyes off of me.
My body wars with my mind. I want to kick him out of here and throw every single one of those hot coffees at him as he goes. I want to sit with him and talk for hours. I want to punch him in the nuts. I want to drop to my knees, crawl across this fancy floor to him and wait for his command.
My clit throbs.
I want to cover his impressive, pierced cock in whipped cream and lick it off.
My breasts ache.
I want him to bend me over every single surface inside of Sacred Grounds and fuck me until I can't walk, can't move, can'tbreathe.
My pussy drips in preparation. It pulses. Tightens around nothing.
No, no, no. Listening to my body is how I wound up in this situation in the first place.
"Please sit with me," he says softly. "I just want to talk, Little Flower."
Oh my god. Why? Why did he have to say that name?
This time, it's not just my lady bits that clench, it's my fucking heart. Glancing behind me, I find Jess and Uri cleaning and shutting things down for the night. There are only two other customers here, sitting and finishing their drinks, but technically, I should be working. Jess smiles softly. Uri grins and winks before not so discretely shoving me out from behind the counter.
I hiss, "What is it with you guys being so pushy today?" Uri barks out a laugh and pushes me harder.Christ, give me strength.My hands squeeze into fists at my sides, but I straighten my spine and make my way toward Eli. I expect him to gloat and smile as though he's won something, but he doesn't.
No, what he does is worse. Or better...I'm not sure.
He checks me out. Not subtly either. No, he openly devours me with his eyes. He takes me in like a starving man. I barely, just barely, stop myself from swaying my hips as I walk. He can check me out all he wants but encouraging him is a whole different thing. There is no point in doing that until I know why he's here and even then, there is no telling how that reasoning will make me feel or what I might want to do about it.
LET IT ALL GO-BIRDY/RHODES
Dropping down onto one of the cushy stools, I cross my legs and band my clasped hands over my knee, if for no other reason than to keep myself from fidgeting.
We sit in tense silence, both of us just staring at one another, waiting for someone to speak, but not knowing what to say. My knee begins to bounce. His Adam’s apple bobs. My stomach squeezes itself painfully with nerves. His drumming fingers pause.
