“Enough.” His voice is cold and firm, and now he is glaring at me. I turn away and smile when I see that Asher and Lila have their heads together, chatting.
“So, I’m Kate,” I say and hold my hand out to Asher, who shakes it with a smile. “But, I’m not telling you my last name, in case you really do want to arrest me.”
“Her name is Mary Katherine O’Shaughnessy,” Lila says. “Do you want her social security number?”
“How do you know my social security number?”
“I’m your person. If something happens to you, I have to know all your shit. Just like you know mine.”
“Oh, right. She’s my person,” I inform Eli, before I remember that I’m mad at him.
Even though being mad at him is stupid.
“Kate tells me that you and she had a thing going in college,” Asher says with a wink to me.
“We totally did,” Lila agrees. “You know how crazy college kids are.”
“The threesome only happened one time,” I add, and the look passes between Lila and me. You know, the one that BFF’s understand that says, play along.
“And we decided that we much preferred lesbian sex when it didn’t involve a man,” Lila says.
“Makes sense,” Asher says thoughtfully, and I hear a noise beside me. It’s Eli.
Laughing his ass off.
“Do you find threesomes funny?” I ask him.
“They can be,” he says, and wipes his eyes. “But I’m still laughing at your name. Mary Katherine? Really?”
“What’s wrong with my name?”
“It is kind of funny,” Lila says.
“Is that why Dec calls you Superstar?” Eli asks. “Because of Mary Katherine Gallagher on SNL?”
“Yes.” He’s totally killing my buzz.
“Fuck, that’s funny,” Eli says.
“That part is super funny,” Lila agrees.
“Okay, it’s kind of funny,” I say. My buzz is dying, it’s getting late, and now all I can think about is going to bed. “Will you please take me home?”
“Of course, cher.” Eli kisses my cheek and stands.
“Coming?” I ask Lila, who laughs at something Asher said that I couldn’t hear.
“I’m gonna have Asher take me home,” she says and smiles.
“Atta girl,” I say and high five her. I fish the key to my loft out of my small purse and hand it to her. “I brought the extra key for you. See you tomorrow.”
Then I point at Asher and make my serious face. “And, listen up, buddy. If you hurt her, I don’t care if you really are a cop, I’ll make your life hell. Okay?”
“Okay.” He nods sincerely, and I back away.
“Okay then.”
Eli leads me outside into the fresh, not-so-fresh, Bourbon Street air.
“Did you bring your car?” I ask. “’Cause it’s not far. We can walk.”
“We will drive, cher.”
He leads me to the car, gets me settled the way he always does, which always makes me feel special, then climbs in the other side.
“I’m not special,” I sigh, surprised when the words actually come out instead of stay in my head where they belong.
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head, sober enough to know that I do not want to repeat that. “Are you really not interested in the threesome story?”
“Oh, I’m interested. I’m a man, Kate.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Okay, tell me.”
“It was fun,” I begin and smile at him. How long should I let this story go? “I mean, it’s hard to say no to any of you Boudreaux brothers, and in college, Declan was hot. Look at him now, he’s still hot, but back then, holy crap.”
“Stop.” He brakes in front of our building and turns to face me in the seat. “Are you telling me that you and Lila fucked my brother?”
“Well—”
“Because, if you are, you’re also telling me that you lied to me when you told me that you’d never been with Declan.”
I frown. “Eli, it was a joke. We never did a threesome. We never even had lesbian sex. We kissed once, when we were drunk. I think Declan saw that, I’m not sure.”
He shakes his head and pushes out of the car, and I follow.
“Seriously, Eli. I won’t curse because of the Catholic guilt. Do you honestly think I’d have a threesome?”
He laughs and meets me on the sidewalk.
“That’s not the part that made you mad,” I realize. “It was the who.”
He shrugs.
“Why does the thought of me being intimate with Declan make you so mad?” I ask softly and cup his face.
“It’s not rational,” he says and kisses my forehead. “But it’s probably because he’s my brother, and I’ve laid a claim on you, and the thought of him seeing your body, being inside you, loving you, is completely out of the question.”
“Well, it was a joke.”
He takes my hand and leads me inside. I’m still a bit wobbly on my feet, so he wraps his arm around my waist.
“Now.” He helps me out of my shoes. “Let’s talk about Cindy.”
“Oh.” I make the I just ate something disgusting face and sag my shoulders. “I don’t want to.”
“I do.”
“Can’t we just have sex?” I ask and tug his white T-shirt out of his jeans, then glide my hands over his hard abdomen. “I love your stomach.”
“It was one night, Kate.”
“I don’t care.”
“It was a mistake. She’s much younger than me, and Gabby’s friend, but we were drunk, and it just happened.”
“I don’t care, Eli.” But I do. I so do. I walk away from him and take a deep breath. “Okay, I don’t lie. Yes, I care. I hate it.”
I turn back to him, and he’s standing there, his hands in his pockets, watching me.
“Why?” he asks.
“I don’t know. We’ve both been with other people, and we’ll be with others again when this is done.” His jaw ticks at that. “It’s not rational to hate it, but I do. I don’t want to think about you touching her, or anyone else. I don’t want to think about some other bimbo seeing you naked, or touching you, or being intimate with you. Does that make me a crazy jealous fuck buddy? Probably. But that’s the way it is.”
“One,” he says in a low voice as he advances toward me. “You are not now, nor have you ever been, my fuck buddy. That’s disrespectful to both of us, and I won’t have that.”
I frown, but he holds his hand up, stopping any words that might have come out.
“Two, I agree. I know you were no virgin when I met you, but I don’t want to think about your partners. Nor do I want to think about you with anyone after me. Because this is just between you and me, Kate.
“And three,” he whispers as he stops just inches in front of me. I can feel the heat from his body; I can smell his shampoo.
I want him to touch me.
“Three, all I can see, all I can think about, is you. I want you. You don’t just cross my mind once in a while, you live in it.”
My eyes widen as I watch him carefully, completely sober now. He’s still not touching me.
“We said this would only last for as long as you’re here. Only us. No one else, and damn it, Kate, that hasn’t changed for me.”
“Me too,” I whisper. “Eli?”
“Yes.”
“I really need you to touch me now.”
He takes a deep breath, his hands flexing in and out of fists at his sides, his eyes traveling from my eyes to my lips and back again.
“I want you,” I whisper.
He backs me up to the wall, and finally presses his body to mine, takes my face in his hands, and plants his lips on mine, kissing, nibbling, devouring me in the most delicious way. This man can kiss like no one I’ve ever met.
He kisses like it’s his damn job.
His hands skim down my sides as he slides my dress down until it’s
magically pooled at my feet, and I’m standing before him in a black strapless bra and black thong.
“Fuck, Kate.”
“Yes, fuck Kate,” I agree with a grin, but when his eyes find mine, they aren’t laughing. “What is it?”
He shakes his head and kisses me again, and his hand dives under the scrap of lace to cup my pussy in his hand.
“This?” He pushes two fingers inside me, and I’m so wet they glide in effortlessly. “This is mine, Kate. Do you understand?”
I nod and bite his lip, and cry out when he presses the flat of his palm against my clit and makes me come, right here, this fast, against the wall. His whiskey eyes are watching as I cry out.
“That’s right, cher. Mine.” He pulls his hand out, lifts me, and carries me up the stairs to the bedroom. Before I know what’s happening, he’s discarded my underwear, stripped out of his own clothes, and joins me on the bed.
Just when I think he’s going to spread my legs and slide inside, he flips me over, presses my legs together, straddles them and slides his cock inside me, with my thighs pressed together and my ass just barely in the air.
And, holy hell if it’s not the best thing ever.
Like, ever.
“Oh, my God,” I groan. I can’t move much with him pressing me into the mattress, holding me down with his body, and in this position, his cock feels even bigger, and hits that amazing spot every single damn time he pushes inside me.
“What are you feeling?” he asks, out of breath.
“You,” I reply.
“More.”
“I can feel the head of your cock pushing on my spot. I can feel your hands on my hips, holding me down. Your legs on my thighs. Oh, yeah, right there.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and slides his hand up my spine and into my hair, then grips my hair at the scalp, so there’s no slack, and pulls.
Hard.
“Shit, yes,” I moan.
“You like to have your hair pulled, Kate?”
“I guess so.”
“You guess?”
“This is new.”
“No one’s ever pulled your hair?”
“Not like this.”
He chuckles and pulls just a touch harder and begins to seriously fuck me. Hard. His hips slap against my ass, and I feel the most amazing orgasm working its way through me.
“Eli!”
“Say it again.”
“Eli. I’m gonna come.”
“Come, baby.” He releases my hair, leans over and bites my neck, near my shoulder, and that’s it. It’s over. I come hard and long, clenching him tightly and crying out.
“Fuck,” he growls and follows me, grinding into me as he comes, then collapses next to me. “Mine.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Good morning,” he whispers in my ear. I’m on my stomach, my arms under my pillow. I can feel him against my side, rubbing my bare back with the flat of his hand, kissing my cheek, and I want to just stay, right here, forever.
“Mm,” I reply.
“Open your eyes,” he says. I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Mm mm,” I reply and frown, making him chuckle.
“For me?” He kisses my cheek again and cups my ass in his hand, then drags that amazing hand back up my spine and brushes my hair off my back, so he can kiss my neck and shoulder.
I’m awake.
“Your skin is so soft,” he murmurs, dragging his lips across my shoulder. “I love your freckles.”
“My mother calls them angel kisses. Every time an angel kissed me in heaven before I came to her, I got a freckle.” I smile and suddenly miss my ma. I manage to get one eye open and smile at a rumpled Eli lying next to me, his head braced in his hand as his fingers travel over my skin. He’s smiling softly at me.
“Good morning,” he says.
“Good morning,” I reply. “What time is it?”
“Don’t worry about it.” He kisses my cheek again, and I close my eye. I feel him move around, and then hear the shutter on his phone.
“Did you seriously just take a picture of me?” I ask, and open my eye again to glare at him.
“I did,” he replies. “You look beautiful in the morning.”
He’s such a damn charmer.
I quickly pull his phone from his fingers and turn over, scoot up against him, and hold the phone out to take a selfie of the two of us.
“Morning selfie,” I announce, and we both smile at the phone. I snap the picture, but before I lower it, he kisses my cheek, so I snap that too.
“Keep the phone up,” he whispers, and turns my face to his, kissing my lips.
I snap that one as well.
“Kissing selfies,” I whisper and he kisses my nose. “You’re sweet in the morning.” I set his phone aside and turn to snuggle in his arms, press my face against his solid, muscular chest, and take a long, deep breath when he closes his arms around me and holds me close.
“I’m not sweet, cher.”
“Mmm hmm,” I reply and rub my nose against him. “Sure you’re not. You smell good.”
He chuckles and kisses my head.
“Your hair smells good.”
“It’s the new shampoo I bought downstairs,” I reply.
“I like it.”
I sigh and could definitely fall back to sleep right here, in Eli’s arms, but I have a feeling we need to get up and out the door to work.
“Seriously, what time is it?”
“After seven,” he replies.
“What?” I pull back and try to get out of bed, but he tugs me effortlessly back into his arms. “Eli, we have to get up.”
“Five more minutes.”
“I don’t have five minutes to give you.”
“Yes, you do.” He hugs me again, rubs his hands down my back and kisses my forehead. “Let me just enjoy having you in my arms for five more minutes.”
“Well, it does feel good,” I concede, and snuggle against him.
“Nothing feels this good,” he whispers, making me grin. I don’t care what he says, in these quiet moments, he’s very sweet.
If I’m not careful, I could tumble right over into love with him.
It’s a good thing I’m the very definition of careful.
“Eli?”
“Hmm.”
“I don’t want to, but I have to get up.”
“I know.” He sighs and loosens his grip on me. “Thanks for the extra five minutes.”
I grin and roll away, then gasp when I see the time. “It’s almost eight!”
“Yes.”
“You said it was after seven.”
“It is.”
I glare at him, but he just stares at me with humor-filled eyes.
“Oversleeping on a Monday means the rest of the week is going to be crappy,” I announce, as I stomp into the bathroom, pull a brush through my hair, then tie it back and stare in despair at my makeup-free face in the mirror. “I don’t have time for makeup.”
“You’re beautiful without it,” Eli says calmly, as he hands me a steaming mug of coffee and kisses my cheek. “Stop freaking out.”
“I don’t want to be late,” I reply, before gratefully sipping the coffee. “Where did this coffee come from?”
“Timer on the pot,” he replies. “You’re fine, cher.” He wraps his arms around my waist and finds my gaze in the mirror as he kisses my cheek. “You didn’t sleep that late.”
I lean back against him and enjoy the feel of his chest pressed against my back for just a moment before slipping out of his arms and reaching for my makeup.
And then my phone rings.
Of course.
“Rhys is FaceTiming me at 8:00 on a Monday morning?” I ask with a frown. Eli just shrugs and saunters into his closet to dress. “Rhys, I can’t talk now.”
“Just give me ten,” he replies, and I can tell just by looking at him that something is very wrong.
“What is it?”
“You didn’t watch last nigh
t’s game?”
“No,” I reply guiltily. “Sorry.”
“I’m hurt.” The sarcasm is thick. “I thought you watched every game.”
“Right. Of course I do. What’s wrong?”
“I got hurt.” He swallows and winces as he shifts in his seat. “Tore my rotator cuff.”
“WHAT? Oh, my God, Rhys—”
“I’m fine.”
I look into his green eyes, and I know he’s lying. “No, you’re not.”
He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll need surgery. I’m out for the season.”
“Rhys.” I wish I could hug him. Baseball has been his life since he was five years old. It’s been the one constant in his life, even after his parents died.
It’s his life.
“I’m going home to Denver,” he continues. “I’ll see the doctors there, do some therapy. I’ll be fine.”
“Rhys.”
He sighs again, and finally he says, “Careers end because of this, Kate. I can’t lose baseball. I’m only twenty-eight, for Godsake.”
“I’ll be home in a couple weeks, tops, and I’ll take care of you.”
He smirks. “I don’t need a mommy.”
“Maybe I just need to be there to be helpful.”
He clears his throat and talks to someone else in the room. “I have to go. I wanted to fill you in.”
“Have you called Ma and Da?” I ask.
“They’re next. Love you. See you soon.”
“Love you too.”
“He’ll be okay,” Eli says from the doorway, fastening the cuff-links on his shirt. I nod and set the phone aside, quickly brush on some mascara and lip gloss, resigned that this is as good as it gets today, and walk out of the bathroom.
“I know. Let me get some clothes on, and let’s go.”
***
“Hi Kate, this is Adam, the private investigator you spoke with last week?”
“Yes! Please tell me you’ve found something.” I shift in my chair, gathering papers and a pen to make notes with.
“I have; I just hope it’s something you can use. You mentioned that there is no employee named H. Peters at Bayou Industries, in any department.”
“That’s right.”
“I had to do some digging into each of the employees and their families, and let me tell you, there are a lot of people who work there.”