by Lisa DeBells
I showered, moisturized, and blew my hair straight until it hung in a long blonde sheet to my waist. I had on my favorite Peter Alexander nighty, with cute little blue-and-pink cupcakes printed all over it. It made me hungry just looking at them.
It was Thursday, and usually Ariel, Sammy, Gia, and I went to each other’s houses in turn. We cooked from a specific culinary genre, and when four weeks was up we’d vote on who cooked it best and give them a prize. It was always a plus-one event and cell phones were dropped off as soon as we set foot inside to avoid distraction. They weren’t to be touched until we left.
Tonight it was Gia’s turn to cook. We were making lasagne this month, which I happened to master. Unfortunately, Gia came down with a stomach bug and wasn’t up to it. Which was fine by me. It was exceptionally cooler tonight, and all I wanted to do was curl up on the lounge and watch my favorite television show, Game Of Thrones.
I waited for the microwave popcorn to pop and made a cup of green tea. My cell phone blared. Who would need me at nine p.m? I had plans of indulging in trashy TV and popcorn. I focused on the name that accompanied the number and gaped. Shit it was Mitchell. I squinted at the name to make sure I just didn’t muddle the letters, or manifest his name because he was all I could think about. Cheeky boy must have programmed my number into his phone.
I didn’t know what I wanted more. To ignore this call would mean prolonging, me ending up a throbbing wreck when he decided he was bored. He was sex on legs; gorgeous in looks, cheeky in character, a fucking sex god in the sack, and the cherry on top; he was up-and-coming in the fitness world, on top of having an already successful business. Who wouldn’t want him.
The ringing stopped. My chest throbbed as my horny as hell inner devil threw popcorn in her mouth resentfully, disgruntled at my stupid reasoning. Why shouldn’t I just take advantage of his banging body and deal with the anguish later?
The answer was simple; I really liked that man and couldn’t do casual sex. It wasn’t in my make-up not to be affected and fall for someone that had made me feel the way Mitchell had every single time I saw him. He was caring, sweet, and funny, carnal as sin, and all I’d thought about since Monday. I had it bad. I’d even changed my morning gym workouts to whenever I could fit it in throughout the day so as not to bump into him there. This was self-preservation at its best. I refused to fall again, because the recovery after being dumped by Mitchell would be extensive and painful. He was one of a kind, and I wasn’t going to take that chance.
I startled at the ringing phone and lost all the popcorn in the bowl on my lap.
“Damn.” It was a call from the lobby. Did I really want to answer it? I could pretend I was out . . . awesome idea. But what if there was an important issue, or an emergency. Shit. I stood, ignoring the crunching mess under my feet.
I grabbed for the phone.
“Miss Eden, it’s Tommy downstairs. I know it’s late but you . . . uhhhh . . . you have a package.” He sounded as dubious as I felt. The last post was midday in this area unless it was from a private company.
“Tommy. You do realize it’s Thursday, and technically I’m not here?” I said with a smile. It wasn’t Tommy’s fault, so why shoot the messenger?
“Yes, I know. What’s cooking this month?” Bless that man, he always recalled the small details, That must be why he’d worked here for over a decade.
“I should be eating lasagna, not popcorn. Anyway, what’s up? Why am I not watching King Jophrey’s head on a chopping block?”
“I have a very persistent Mr Stone to see you.”
Oh fucking my. A bombshell exploded in my ears and zip lined to my lady parts causing them to throb upon hearing his name . . . Mitchell was here . . . now? This was too much.
“Tommy, you lost me after Stone. Just tell him to go away. Tell him I’m asleep.” I twirled the cord of the phone in my fingers.
“He can hear me, Miss Eden.” He waited for my response while I tried to form my next excuse as to why Mitchell couldn’t come up. Was Mitchell the package? If so I would definately sign for it. My inner devil halted the face stuffing and perked up from her food coma on the lounge. “He has a package for you.” He paused then kept talking when I couldn’t respond because I wanted Mitch so badly. “It’s quite a lovely package.”
“Tommy.” I drew out his name. I didn’t need him backing Mitchell up. It looked like he’d charmed the doorman as well as me. Could I say no to his charm? Hell no. “Send him up, but from now on, no calls after eight thirty . . . ever. Unless it’s an emergency.”
“You can go up now.” I heard Tommy say.
My inner devil did a triple salchow and nailed the landing in her ice rink. Ugh, fuck that smug bitch. Meanwhile, his nearness dropped my gut to the floor, and it came back up again settling in butterflies.
Remembering I had a popcorn mess to pick up, I was crouched on the carpet in front of the lounge, cleaning up and waiting for him to walk out of the lobby. Within minutes the lift doors pinged to life.
My first sight was of the biggest bunch of peonies coming into view around the corner, followed by a handsome and serene Mitchell peeking over the top of them. He looked unsure as to where I was as he materialized around the kitchen island bench. I took a moment to admire him in all of his divine goodness. I stood slowly, and drank in every detail, banking it for later. Black leather biker boots complimented the thrown together look of dark denim jeans. Small tears in the material gave it a fashionable aged appearance. His grey distressed T-shirt was half tucked, his signature style, into the waistband of his jeans and a thick black leather belt barely held them up. His look was finished off with a leather jacket—in black of course—it looked well-worn. I wondered if he rode a motorbike, because he would fit my biker fantasy if I had one. I had one now.
“Eden.” He called my eyes to his face. I had to remember to breathe, in and out. I was sure Mitchell Stone was born to corrupt womenkind in general. His green gemstone eyes were dark, stunning in how clear they were. I was lost. Shit, I couldn’t do this. I was already hot and bothered and he’d barely uttered a word.
“Mitch hi.” The connection was there. I knew he felt it, because I saw it in the way his eyes drank me in, like he was undressing me with his gaze. Funny, I didn’t mind. I hoped to have the same effect on him that he had on me. The flowers were bunched in front of him and had dropped to the side where they hung forgotten, as if I were the only thing that mattered in the room.
I took a step and the crunch of popcorn reminded me of what I’d been doing. “Sorry, just give me a moment. I spilt the popcorn.” Bending down, I scooped more up dumping it back into the bowl.
“OK.”
I walked over to where he stood, leaning against the kitchen bench, and still holding the magnificent flowers.
“Is this the package?” Warmth crept up my neck and my cheeks felt warm. His mouth curved upwards into a dazzling smile, he held the bunch of flowers out to me in one hand. I was so close the familiar scent of fresh cotton, his body-wash and leather shot through me like a junkie that just had a hit. His cheeks were freshly shaved and looked so smooth that I wanted to run my nose along them and just inhale him. But that would be weird, so I held onto my self-control and accepted the gift.
“You can have either one. I’m easy.” When he threw his head back, laughing loudly I knew he’d baited me, I covered my face as instant heat spread across my chest. His hearty guffaw was quite infectious and I didn’t mind that it was at my expense.
“Mitchell Stone, you are a lunatic.” I shook my head at him, and took a step away, toward the other side of the kitchen bench, but he was too fast. He grabbed my arm and held it.
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked, his teasing was infectious.
I turned over my shoulder and took a deep breath.
“And yes these flowers are for you. I didn’t know what you liked, so I picked my favorite.” He looked so earnest, shy almost as he waited for my approval. This look was new; the ou
t-of-his-comfort-zone Mitchell. Had he ever given a girl flowers before?
I turned back and stepped closer. His hand trailed from my arm into my hand, pulling me closer still. “Beautiful.”
“Don’t say that.” I had become unhinged; by his look, the flowers, and the fact that once again he was standing in my home and calling me beautiful. The current of white-hot heat grew to a slow bubble of molten lava. “The flowers are beautiful, thank you.”
“Don’t say your beautiful? you are sweetheart.” He took the bunch of light pink and white peonies out of my hand and placed them roughly behind him on the island bench, when he turned back around his eyes sparkled and he bit his bottom lip between his teeth. He tugged my hand so that my body fell into his. We are inches apart, and the full blown Stone experience begins.
I didn’t do anything to stop him, I was as useless as an infants ragdoll after years of cuddles. What’s more I didn’t want to. I was about to flip the bird to my rational side. I had no resistance to this man, so I’d take what he gave me until I crawled away licking my wounds.
He pouted slightly when he spoke again. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to get you out of my head all week?” He ran his nose across my hair and inhaled, planting small kisses on my neck as he went. The warmth from his lips igniting a little trail of heat.
“Mitchell, what are you doing?”
“Seducing you with flowers.” He grates out and takes a nip of my ear lobe.
Well you have to give him kudos for admitting the truth. “I see.” More little nips and hot breathes at my throat, his hands tugging my body flush against his. “Why are you here?”“I don’t fucking know, but this . . . you and me.” He pulled back and looked me in the eye. I knew the look, because I had the same one, we both affected one another. I wanted to hold him, make love under the stars all night until the sun rose. He undid all the careful in me. I wanted him, here and now. To hell with rationale.
“Come on.” I conceded.
“Wait. What?”
He looked a little worried as I tried to pull out of his embrace.
“Take me to bed.” I asked, running my hands down his arms.
Every muscle in Mitchell’s body tensed in surprise, his eyes burned intensely at my suggestion. The intensity in his gaze turned to blatant desire. He leaned down and took my mouth, sweet and tender, running his tongue along my bottom lip, I couldn’t hold back the moan.
“Eden, we don’t have to. It’s not why I’m here.”
“Shut up and just kiss me.” I was hot, lonely and horny, there was no thought process tonight.
So he kissed my submissive mouth. With a grin on his lips, he picked me up, and I laced my legs around his waist as he made the path to my room. I planted small, distracting, kisses on his neck, his cheek, his lips. He tasted so good.
“Eden White.” We’d made it to my room . . . again. He smirked when he said to me slowly, “I am going to show you what I have been wanting to do all fucking week.”
OH, FUCKING MY. His grin was lecherous and carnal and I couldn’t wait for him to show me heaven
Chapter Thirteen
He stood at the edge of my bed, with my limbs still clenched around his waist, his fingers cupping both cheeks that rest in his hands and my arms hung over his shoulders. I delved my fingers into the hair at his nape. It was thick and wavy and grown to be tugged only by myself. We were on eye level. Everything disappeared when I looked into his eyes; they were calm and seductive, yet shrouded in mystery.
Mitchell paused and searched my face. I couldn’t get a read on him, but he looked slightly torn, like a man on the precipice of making a decision. A tiny fizzle of panic tightened around my insides.
“Mitch,” I said. I wanted to pull his face to mine and make whatever had concerned him disappear. “Changed your mind?” I attempted a small smirk to disquiet my own misgivings about this whole situation.
The several soundless seconds that passed were unsettling. But when Mitchell gave me a half-smile causing his cheek to dimple, I almost creamed my pants.
All I wanted was to taste his mouth, he inhaled a deep lungful of air. He seemed on edge, but I knew exactly how to blow his mind.
“I just . . . fuck.” He hung his head and shook it from side to side. And there it was, indecision.
I tugged his hair, so he would look up at me.
“Put me down.” He doesn’t want me. I put my hand to his chest, to the bunched up muscles holding me up, attempting to push his body away. My pushing only resulted in him holding me tighter in his vice-like arms caging me to him.
“I’m consumed by you . . . this . . . the way I can’t get you out of my head. I waited for you to call me, and I’m not a patient man by nature.”
Oh holy shit.
I unwrapped my legs and stood, wobbly as the blood rushed from my swimming brain down to my toes. He ran a hand through his hair, like he didn’t understand what he’d just said. My thoughts were mislaid somewhere at consumed, waiting, patient; gobsmacked at his confession. But why was he saying this? Here tonight I was a sure thing. I couldn’t throw myself any further at him if I were an Olympian gold medalist.
I tried to blink away the confusion.
“Say something,” he said.
“How about I show you, just how much . . . I want you?” I laid a tiny row of kisses in between each word, from just behind his ear, sucking a hot trail of kisses to the conclave of his throat, a low approving grunt came from Mitchell and I grazed my teeth over his collar bone licking up any hurt I’d left. His hands held me tight.
Sometimes words were too hard to define what I felt, when I could barely define my emotions daily. But I wanted him desperately. I’d thought of nothing else but him all week, and now that he was here . . . again, it kinda meant something.
The weight of sexual awareness hung between us.
Mitchell grasped my chin in his hand and tilted it up to his face until we were on eye level. My bottom lip was clenched between my teeth as I was unsure to show him how I yearned for his touch.
“Show me baby.” He encouraged me as if sensing my hesitation.
I was simply a girl that really liked this guy, and he had made it clear that he wanted me too. The simplicity of the situation had a growing sanguine effect on me. I placed my palms against his lean, muscled, chest. A smattering of light hair peeking out from the top of his v-neck t-shirt, attracted me to him even further. Mitchell screamed red-blooded male all the way down to his snail trail.
I pushed against his chest, so that he was sitting on the bed. He looked out of place with the massive throw pillows. Looking down at him and knowing he wanted me was empowering. His face was impassive, but his eyes were the window to his real feelings. And I saw not only beauty in them, but something more, simmering underneath; secrets he'd kept hidden, maybe painful ones.
A salacious grin pulled over his lips and had an automatic pull on my libido. My muscles clenched, down there. Made me want to eat his lips for dessert. Then he reached over his head and pulled on the back of his T-shirt until he was naked from the waist up. I'd seen him naked before, but now that he was stretched out on my bed; it was a sight to behold.
His broad and well-rounded shoulders had muscle wrapped and bumping all the way down to his wrists. His chest was perfectly defined, as were his abdominals; six rippled muscles that led my eyes to the inverted V of his stomach. I wanted to explore him, and he knew it, too. His tattoos were an added bonus that screamed bad-boy, and hit me in all my erogenous zones.
“Loose the cupcakes." Mitchell enunciated each word slowly.
I gasped, slightly shocked, still getting over seeing him shirtless, however my response was automatic as I reached down to the hem of my nighty that brushed the tops of my thighs. We never broke eye contact as I lazily pulled my gown up with as much seduction as I could muster. I’d never stripped for a man before. I dropped it to the floor and his response was inspiring. He was drinking me in, every single inch, as he le
aned back on his hands and growly grunt telling me I satisfied him.
Our legs brushed as I stood between his. I hooked my fingers in my panties, I'm happy they were sexy and didn’t have cupcakes on them. I pause for effect, my eyes tethered to his luminous green eyes. I thumbed my panties, and they dropped soundlessly to the floor. Mitchell's low grumble of approval made my heart bounce in my chest. I wanted to cover myself, it was instinctual.
"Come here." His raspy voice was low, affected. "Straddle me."
Oh, yes yes yes.
I gulped in some air, absorbed by his voice, and moved my thighs to the outside of his. I was vulnerable and horny. What a combination. I rested my hands on his shoulders and clasped them together over his back.
He said, “You’re fucking gorgeous. Do you know that?”
I’d never thought I was pretty growing up as I had bad skin, hence experimenting with skin care until I practically cured my own.
I looked down into his eyes. This raw openness we seemed to have scared the shit out of me, because how could we only have met a week ago? I was physically undressed, but he’d stripped me on a whole other level. It was disconcerting.
His hands skimmed my waist until they cupped my heavy breasts, and he rubbed my nipples until they hardened under his touch. The fissure of a current zapped through my body and I moaned. He bent his head and took my hardened peak into his mouth, sucking on it deeply as he lashed his tongue around it and made low appreciative groans. He looked up at me for a brief second before he carried out the same pleasure on the other nipple. I was a live wire; every nerve ending wanted sweet release. I pulled at Mitchell’s hair. I wanted more. I needed him inside me.
He grunted out a whispered, “Yes.”
With him laving my breasts with this expert tongue, I was panting. How much more of this could I take before I combusted?
“Mitch, I want you.”
He kissed and sucked his way from my breast up my chest then my neck, never breaking contact with my skin I leaned my head to the side to give him more access then turned my head impulsively, catching his mouth with mine. I felt the smile on his lips.
