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I don’t know what these rules are. He could be referring to anything, from his own moral code to the codes of conduct his boss imposed.
Expecting regret to follow, I wait for the inevitable change in Ellister’s disposition. I dread how he’ll become closed-off again.
In general, post-orgasmic moments tend to be awkward, especially when it entails humping an acquaintance in a hayloft.
But there’s nothing but a sense of rightness between us as Ellister continues to explore my face. He traces my lips. Drags a fingertip down the slope of my nose. Caresses my cheek with his thumb.
His eyes, though… they’re what hold me captive.
How does he manage to look at me with so much… love?
A lump of emotion forms in my throat.
No one’s ever made me feel so special—so treasured—with just a few simple touches and a look.
“Ellister?” I’m not even sure what I’m planning to say. I feel like we need to talk about what just happened, but there are no words.
“Yes, darling?”
My stomach swoops at the term of endearment coming from his perfect lips, and the inner muscles between my legs quiver and quake.
Oh. My. God. I think I just orgasmed again.
Because of a pet name.
Darling? From anyone else, it might sound cheesy, but being called that by Ellister is everything I didn’t know I needed.
I want to tell him I wished we’d met years ago. I wish we could’ve had the chance to date and fall in love. Maybe even get married. I want to admit how selfish I am, because I wish I could’ve had him for longer, even if it would’ve meant knowing I’d have to leave him too soon.
Unfortunately, we’re interrupted.
“Hannah?” My dad’s voice echoes, and from the way it bounces off the high ceilings of the barn, I can tell he’s inside it. Like, less than fifteen feet from us.
Ellister propels himself backward, separating from me. Falling to his ass, he shoots me a panicked glance.
“Yeah, Dad,” I respond quickly, trying to sound as calm as possible as I put my shirt back where it should be. “I’m up here.”
“Good day, Mr. Wildwood,” Ellister calls politely.
The shuffling of my dad’s boots stops near the ladder. “What are you doing in the hayloft?”
“Ellister was just cleaning out the horse stalls.”
“In the hayloft?” my dad asks skeptically, his tone suspecting.
I laugh nervously. “Obviously not now. I was showing him our old camping supplies.” At least that’s sort of true. “Maybe we should call this the camping-loft because there’s no actual hay up here.”
My lame rambling pulls an odd look from Ellister and a cringe from me. As far as wit goes, I can do better than that, but my brain cells are currently wrecked from the orgasm.
Running a hand over my face, I announce, “Ellister will be right down to get back to work.”
Ellister hastily shakes his head at me, and I mouth, “What?”
Gesturing to his crotch, he silently conveys his issue.
“Oh.” My lips form the soundless word, my eyes going wide.
There’s a darker spot on the front of Ellister’s jeans, and I don’t think the wetness came from me. Yeah, I’m slick as a waterslide down there, but I didn’t soak through that many layers of clothing.
