But it was the view outside the wall of windows lining the entire back of the room that had Scarlett speechless.
“The Shenandoah mountain ridge is about seventy miles long, give or take, and it spans from here in Virginia all the way to West VA,” Eli said, his voice reverent even though his words were pure fact.
Scarlett stared, unable to speak. Her heart fluttered against her ribs as she took in the skyline, the silhouette of taller, smoke-and-moss-colored mountains in the distance turning the tree-covered hills in the valley below them an even brighter, almost impossible green. Every color, every texture, and every shadow was amplified in its detail, and she was helpless to do anything other than stand still and slowly drink in every last part of the view.
“Eli, it’s . . .” She searched for a word that would do the scene in front of her—the feeling inside of her—any sort of justice, but had to settle on “gorgeous.”
He let out an exhale, shockingly soft. “I may be biased, but I happen to think this is the most gorgeous part.”
And then, all at once, Scarlett realized Eli wasn’t looking out the window at all.
He was looking at her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The only thing Eli had ever done on sheer, undiluted instinct was write. Everything else came with varying degrees of dodge and deflect, of cautious moves and cocky cover-ups. But in that moment, with Scarlett looking so wide open and beautiful that she knocked the breath right out of him, Eli didn’t speak or think or hold back.
He brought his mouth down on hers in one swift move.
For a time-stopping second, she stilled beneath his touch, a noise of shock riding out on her exhale. Then her arms shot around his shoulders, her lips opening readily as she deepened the kiss. She felt so vibrant, so right, and so fucking good in his arms that all Eli could do was pull her in tighter.
More. More. More.
The blunt edges of Scarlett’s fingers dug into his shoulder blades in response. The sound drifting up from her chest was part moan, part sigh, part something primal that shot straight to his cock, and he kissed her even harder just to make her do it again.
“Ohhh.” Her tongue darted out, sliding over the inside of his bottom lip before she followed the path with the edge of her teeth. Although the cautious part of Eli’s brain warned him to slow down and savor the moment, some new, reckless voice welled up to cancel it out.
He didn’t want to savor the moment. He wanted to grab it and let it grab him in return, to take the moment and really live it without scaling back.
He wanted Scarlett. Hot and hard and fast.
Right goddamn now.
Keeping his arms banded around her rib cage, he swung her around, pressing against her from chest to hips as they moved to the nearest available surface. Her lower body connected with what turned out to be the back of the love seat, and Eli lowered his hands to palm the curve of her ass. He spent a greedy second letting his fingers take in the feel of her—the friction of her soft denim cutoffs on his work-callused skin, the firm, sexy muscles flexing against his hands from underneath. But he wanted more—Christ, he wanted everything—so he lifted her up, resting her solidly on the back of the love seat in order to get it.
“Oh God, yes.” Scarlett widened her knees, but only long enough for Eli to fit himself against the cradle of her hips before she knotted her legs around his waist. He lost the fight with his moan, his cock throbbing at the direct contact with the hot seam of her body. Scarlett’s fingers took a nimble trip to the back of his T-shirt, the tightening of her hands into fists Eli’s only warning before his shirt had been tugged over his head and flung to the floorboards.
“Your body is like a work of art,” she whispered, sending a slow, green gaze from his shoulders to the spot where his hips were notched tightly against her own.
Of all the things she could have said, he’d expected that the least. “Careful,” Eli warned after his surprise wore off. “That’ll go right to my head, remember?”
But Scarlett just lifted one slim shoulder in a shrug. “Let it. There’s nothing wrong with embracing the truth, and the truth is, you’re sexy as hell.”
He laughed at the absolute irony of this woman calling him sexy. “Pretty sure it’s the other way around, darlin’.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I believe I want you.” Dropping his mouth to her neck—how could anyone’s skin be so ridiculously soft and so damn hot at the same time?—Eli started kissing a path toward her collarbone, fully intending not to stop until he’d taken off every last stitch of Scarlett’s clothing and made her scream out his name right where they stood.
So he was pretty fucking shocked when the next thing he knew, she’d slipped from the back of the love seat to swing him around, her feet planted firmly over the edge of the area rug beneath them and his back pressed hard against the upholstery.
“You want me right now?” A glint of wickedness mixed in with the smile pulling at her lips. Scarlett ran her hands over his shoulders, bringing them to the slight space between their bodies and running them over his chest before moving lower.
“Yes,” Eli grated, although somehow, it didn’t seem a strong enough word.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
Although his answer was all instinct and 100 percent true, hearing it out loud sent a bolt of shock through him.
Not Scarlett, though. Her eyes were completely steady, her expression sure as she whispered, “Good. Now come here.”
But rather than sliding out of her cutoffs and panties while he made a lightning-fast grab for the condom in his wallet, she pulled the bandana from her pocket.
Jesus, this woman would never stop doing the brashest thing possible. “You want to blindfold me?” His cock jerked its approval, already rock-hard against the fly of his jeans, and Scarlett’s soft, throaty laugh did nothing but make him impossibly harder.
“There’s a method to my madness,” she said, smoothing the bandana into one long strip before reaching up to knot the fabric snugly into place.
Eli bit back the irony threatening to spill out of him in a chuckle—he’d known his earlier comment was going to come back to haunt him. He’d gone the blindfold route to surprise her with the unbelievable view from the cabin, so she’d slow down and really see it, but . . . “You sure this isn’t just payback?”
“Maybe a tiny bit,” she admitted, a smile coloring her voice. “But this will be worth it, and you don’t have to worry.” She lowered her fingers from behind his head, skimming them down his bare arms, then placing his hands on either side of the love seat so he could get his bearings. “I’ve got your back.”
Now his chuckle did escape. Damn, she was good at turning the tables. Maybe a little too good, because she’d not only just used all his words against him but also ensured that he really couldn’t see a thing. Reorienting his senses against the blindfold-induced darkness, Eli reached out to pull Scarlett close and finally get what he’d wanted ever since they’d walked in the door.
Only she wasn’t standing in front of him.
“Scarlett.” His cock throbbed beneath the layers of his jeans and boxers as he registered the warmth of her exhale over his abdomen, and—oh fuck—exactly how she’d changed her position to get it there. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
It was ironic as hell, of course, because what she was poised to do was a stellar idea. But as sharp and hot as the desire in his belly was, he wouldn’t last more than two minutes with Scarlett’s smart mouth on him.
Of course, she didn’t hesitate. “You said you want me, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts.” Her fingers brushed over his, the contact warm and oddly sweet. “I want you, too, Eli. So please. Let me have you.”
His heart drummed in his chest. He knew he should tell her this was a bad idea—his self-control was already running on fumes. But Christ, he wanted her without borders or limits or holding back. He w
anted every last dirty, delicious thing she felt compelled to do to him.
So he let go and let her in.
Scarlett’s fingers moved from his hands to the top edge of his jeans, the sudden loosening of the denim from his hips signaling that she’d freed the button from its mooring. Eli’s breath hitched at the sound of his zipper being lowered, then coalesced into a moan when her hand lingered on his denim-covered cock. Hot, impulsive want raked down his spine at the feel of her touch, every slide and sound and smell heightened by the fact that he couldn’t rely on the sights that went with them. The slightly rough texture of the upholstery under his hands, the silky glide of Scarlett’s hair brushing over his skin as she kissed a path across his belly, the deep, herbal scent of her shampoo that drifted up with every move—each one shot through him with white-hot intensity. Her fingertips trailed up to his waist, skimming a path to the point of his hip even though he felt the touch in a dozen other places besides, and sweet Jesus, not only was he going to die on this spot, but he was going to love every second of the trip.
“Scarlett,” he bit out, and even her name tasted like uncut want on his tongue. “You’re killing me here.”
She laughed, just a soft puff of sound. “You want more.”
Nothing about it was a question, which worked out great, since his answer was just as definite.
“Yes. God, yes.”
“Good. Because I don’t want to stop.”
In a few economical moves, Scarlett slid his jeans, then his boxers from their low-slung resting places before shifting to one side to let him toe his way out of his boots. The thought of her, fully clothed while he was so thoroughly naked, sent a pulse of lust-filled want from the base of his spine to his balls despite the fact that he couldn’t actually see the image branded in his mind.
But then she parted her lips over his cock, and screw not being able to see. Eli couldn’t breathe or think or even remember his goddamn name.
“Ah.” His muscles went bowstring tight, his brain desperately trying to keep up with the raw sensations screaming through his body. Scarlett slid one hand over his hip, holding him steady while the other joined the play of her mouth between his legs. Circling her fingers around the base of his cock, she learned him with bold strokes and slow slides of her lips and tongue. Eli gripped the edge of the love seat, trying like hell to steel himself against the warm, wet pressure of her mouth.
But his mind’s eye showed him everything. The fall of white-blond hair spilling over her lean, muscular shoulders. The contrast between her soft, creamy skin and his work-hardened body, inevitably tan from a season’s worth of exposure to the sun. Her perfectly pink lips moving in sinful strokes as she sucked. Licked. Tasted. Took.
Scarlett’s movements became more rhythmic, full of intent, and Eli’s muscles damn near locked down from the tension of his restraint. Restraint that was further tested when she pulled back to murmur, “It’s okay, Eli. You don’t have to hold back.”
The words slammed through him, and he pulled the blindfold from his eyes and Scarlett to her feet before he had any notion that he was going to.
“That’s just it,” Eli said, cupping her shocked-as-hell face between his palms. “I don’t want to hold back. I want you.”
Reaching down, he grabbed the hem of her tank top, yanking the fabric over her head, and God help him, Scarlett actually moaned in response.
“I want to see you.” Another quick turn of his wrist, and her cutoffs fell to the floor. “I want to watch your face as I bury myself inside you until you lose your mind.” The flush on her cheeks—which was already the sexiest shade of pink Eli had ever seen—deepened at his words, and he bent to claim her mouth in a rough kiss before adding, “And I want my eyes on you when I lose mine right after. No halfway. No holding back. I want to fuck you, right here.” He hooked his thumbs beneath the lacy strings at Scarlett’s shoulders, then the ones at her hips, sliding the last of her clothes from her body and leaving her bare. “Right. Now.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly against his, her lashes tipped in gold from the sunlight spilling in from the windows. Pressing up to her toes, she brushed her lips over his, her eyes wide open and wicked as she said, “Then go ahead and fuck me. Right now.”
Eli’s movements were a combination of reflex and pure want. Pausing only to pull the blanket from the arm of the love seat and the condom from his wallet, he led Scarlett beneath the windows spanning the back of the house. He draped the blanket over the floorboards, wrapping his arms around her rib cage before guiding her down beside him. She looked so perfect with the sunlight on her skin, illuminating her tight, rosy nipples, the soft indent of her navel, the snug juncture where her calf met the back of her knee.
But he’d have to explore those places later. Right now, he only wanted one thing.
Everything.
One quick but careful movement had the condom in place, and Eli parted Scarlett’s thighs with a press of his palms. Covering her body with his, he slid the head of his cock along her folds, the slick feel of her readiness knocking a groan from deep in his chest. Raw pleasure gripped him as he thrust forward to fill her in one unrepentant stroke. Her inner muscles clenched around him, turning his need hot, desperate, and ah, God, he couldn’t hold back.
But Scarlett didn’t hold back, either. Arching her lower back, she lifted her hips from the soft cotton beneath them, fitting herself to his cock until he was seated inside of her with no room to spare. The pressure sent sparks through his field of vision, and Eli savored it for just a fraction of a second before he started to move. He pulled back as far as possible without withdrawing from her core altogether, only to bury himself deeply; once, then again and again.
“Eli.” His name tore from her throat, sounding like sex itself. Whatever else she’d meant to say was lost on the gasp that followed, and the noise shattered the last of Eli’s control. He filled Scarlett’s sex in long, penetrating strokes, levering his hips against hers over and over again. She met each thrust, moving with him in rhythm, her fingers digging in to his sides, then splaying wider over his ass. Her knees fluttered farther apart, her lower back bowing off the blanket in a deep curve as he pushed into her heat.
Christ, she was so beautiful, so pared down and perfect beneath him, that he gripped her even harder, pistoning into her without gentleness. Her cry in return only made him more reckless, and when he changed the angle of his hips to bring his cock flush with the swollen knot of her clit, he felt her begin to tremble from the inside out.
“That’s it,” Eli murmured. “No holding back. Let me see you come undone, baby.”
Scarlett’s body tightened, one bright, delicious squeeze of pressure around his cock so intense, it bordered on pleasure/pain. Release built in the deepest part of his belly, but he didn’t slow his movements. Eli worked her through every moan, every shudder and scream, and each one triggered something hot a needful within him. His climax rushed up from between his hips, rolling through him in wave after wave, until finally, he lowered himself over Scarlett’s body, pressing against her from forehead to belly.
At some point, his breathing slowed, the rapid rise and release of his chest coalescing into a normal rhythm. But despite the fact that Eli knew he should pull back, at the very least to give Scarlett some breathing room, he didn’t. Instead, he tightened his arms around her rib cage to hold her even closer. No halfway. No holding back.
And while he also knew that should scare the ever-loving hell out of him, he felt too damn good with her in his arms to care.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Okay, cowboy. You win.”
Eli looked up from his spot in front of the fireplace in the bedroom, unable to crank down on his surprise. “Can I get that in writing? Notarized would be cool, too. Or hey, maybe a nice plaque—”
“Eli.”
Funny how it only took the single word of warning for him to fold like last week’s laundry. But come on. Not only had Scarlett delivered the word in quest
ion with a sexy smile tipping her lips, but she was stretched across the bed in the cabin’s master suite in nothing more than a gauzy white tank top and a pair of short-short-style panties that made arguing with her an act of pure fucking idiocy.
“Alright, no plaque. But can I at least ask to what I owe the honor?” Eli crossed the room—although admittedly, the act only took three steps—stopping to bend down and brush a kiss over Scarlett’s mouth before parking himself on the floorboards beside the bed.
“Slowing down to really look at the landscape and trails out here gave me perspective I wouldn’t have found if I’d tried to rush through everything,” she said, turning over onto her belly and burying her smile against his bare shoulder as he leaned back to face the fire he’d just started in the fireplace. “Coming up here was an incredible idea.”
“Ah. Well, then, I couldn’t agree more.”
After they’d finally gotten up and gotten dressed a handful of hours ago, they’d taken a leisurely predinner hike around the property, during which Scarlett had snapped at least two hundred photos, as predicted. He’d snuck in some quality time with his journal while she’d downloaded the images and edited a few for the magazine, then spent two totally laid-back hours hashing out story ideas with her after that as they laughed and ate. The more he listened to Scarlett talk about the places she’d been and the photographs she’d taken, the brighter his own words had become in his head—to the point that he’d added three extra pages of notes to his journal as they’d talked—and hell if that hadn’t made this a perfect day.
A day he wanted to hold on to and have over and over again, even though he knew it was impossible.
Eli’s stomach knotted at the thought. Bending his knees, he propped his bare forearms over his jeans-clad thighs, staring into the flames and trying to mash down on his unease. Yes, his perfect day had involved two things he knew he couldn’t keep. But it wasn’t like he could control that, much less change it.
Crossing the Line (The Cross Creek Series Book 2) Page 24
