Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)(38)

Asking God to grant me a little more control than I was capable of on my own, I wrapped an arm around her back and buried my face in her breasts, sucking one nipple, taking it between my teeth and flicking its stiff little tip.

She cried out and moved her hips faster, and I felt the telltale rush of heat unfurling at the base of my spine—but at that point, all I could do was pray she was with me. Her voice rose in pitch and my lower body tightened, and then I was coming inside her in hot, feverish bursts while she continued to move above me. I panicked that I’d finished way too soon, but the moment my orgasm subsided, hers began, and I felt her body contracting around me in quick, rhythmic pulses that rendered her silent and slowed the movement of her hips to near stillness.

When she caught her breath, she realized my head was still cradled in her arms and dropped her hands. But I stayed where I was, an arm around her back, my forehead tipped against her chest.

She squirmed. “Let me go.”

“Never.” I wrapped the other arm around her. “You’re mine now. And I’m going to keep you locked in this room to be my sexual prisoner forever. Or I’ll be yours. I’m not picky.”

“Gianni, come on.” But she laughed, and the sound made me feel ridiculously happy. “I need to get up and stretch out my legs.”

“Fine.” I released her, and she carefully lifted herself off me and then headed for the bathroom.

A couple minutes later, she came out and I went in. When I returned to bed, she was bundled up under the covers on her side of the bed, facing the opposite wall. I got in on my side, fully prepared to observe her no-touching rule.

I was lying on my back, eyes closed, just drifting off when she surprised me yet again by rolling over and tucking herself along my side.

“What’s this?” I asked, wrapping an arm around her. She’d put my T-shirt back on.

Her cheek rested on my shoulder. “This is staying warm, that’s all.”

“Okay, so to be clear—we’re not cuddling?”

“We are not cuddling. And don’t get any more ideas.”

“Don’t worry. Even my body has limits. I definitely need a break before morning.”

She slapped my chest. “You can put that thought right out of your head. This is over. We used both your condoms anyway.”

“True.” I stroked her back for a moment. “It was fun while it lasted.”

“It was.” She laughed softly. “I don’t even want to tell you this because you’ll get smug, but that’s the most orgasms I’ve ever had in a night.”

“Fuck yeah, it was.” With my free hand, I thumped my chest a couple times, caveman style. “But you know, as much as I would like to take all the credit, you deserve some too.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I mean it. You were vocal about what felt good and what you wanted and how you wanted it. Maybe that was the difference.”

“Maybe.” She started to play with my chest hair. “Or you’re just talented.”

“In the spirit of our truce, let’s say both are true.”

“Works for me. But tomorrow, the truce is over, okay? We can’t start getting along all the time. My entire life would feel like a lie.”

“Deal. I’d never be able to stop messing with your head anyway. It’s too much fun—maybe not as much fun as the banging, but a close second.”

She was silent for a couple minutes, but I knew she wasn’t sleeping because her fingers still tickled my sternum.

“Ellie. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What made you say yes to the second time?”

Her answer didn’t come right away. “It was what you said. About having my back.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Something about that made me feel really safe.”

“Good.” I was weirdly touched that she’d used those particular words, that I’d made her feel safe. Had I ever made anyone feel safe?

“It was the acknowledgment that no matter what things are like on the surface, our history runs deep. I felt like you were being truthful when you said I matter to you.”

“I was.”

“So that’s what pushed me over the edge—the notion that you’d never really do anything to hurt me, and you’d protect me if it came down to it.”

I swallowed. “I would.”

Except now I was thinking about something—that stupid offer from Fiona Duff. I hadn’t told Ellie about it. Was that the same as a lie? Would she see it as a betrayal? Would it hurt her to know that I’d kept that to myself?

“Ellie, I have to tell you something.”

“What?” Her voice was sleepy.

I swallowed, then spoke quickly. “Fiona Duff offered me the final spot on the 30 Under 30 List. And—and the cover of that issue of Tastemaker.”

It took her a second to process it, and then she sat up. “What? When?”

“When she gave me the check for tonight. You were already in the car, and she and her daughter ambushed me.”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

I sat up too. “I don’t know. You were so upset already, and it seemed like it would be adding insult to injury. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”