Chapter Seven

Though it was still early, Eliza showered and dressed for her day. She felt amazing; her muscles felt loose and free, and the post-sex glow hadn’t faded one bit. Amazing yes, but more she felt wicked; she’d indulged in Craig, a man she wanted, and had enjoyed every incredible moment of it.

So much so that she wouldn’t mind having him again. Pinning him to the bed and taking her time. Driving Craig crazy with need even as she did the same to herself.

Eliza hadn’t realized she’d wanted Craig, really wanted him, until yesterday. Before that it’d been nothing more than a passing thought. Yesterday had changed things. When Craig had turned down those two obvious women to spend the day with her, it’d transformed how she’d looked at him.

Craig was handsome, had a great body, great wasn’t really the best adjective for his body, but it was pretty close — great, fantastic, amazing, incredible…those all worked, too. She loved his dark eyes, but especially the fact that he made her laugh.

When he wasn’t intent on aggravating her.

More than that, he had a knack for putting her in her place — just as she could with him. An equality people didn’t often realize, but one Eliza thought defined their relationship perfectly. They shared the same wit, shared a wicked sense of humor, and challenged each other. Understood each other. And were unfailingly honest with each other — if perhaps a tad too honest at times.

When she closed her eyes, she could imagine Craig’s hands on her body, his mouth doing amazing things to her.

God, but that man knew what he was doing.

Then again, he’d had enough practice. Eliza snorted as she carefully applied her makeup. Experience or not, he had the most talented tongue she’d ever had the privilege of enjoying. And despite her notch on his bedpost, despite her sassy words to him as she’d left his bed and the knowledge that Craig was a playboy and a cad, her body still felt soft and graceful, and she wanted him again.

A guilty pleasure, that’s how she’d categorize Craig Grant. But was he as good as chocolate? Possibly.

Eliza smiled at her reflection. The smile faltered. If she was brutally honest with herself, maybe just a little better than chocolate.

Dressing for the day in casual gray pants and a loose, flowing spring top, she looked around her bedroom for the shoes she wanted to wear. She’d haphazardly unpacked before yesterday’s shoot had been canceled. Then there was Craig and horseback riding and dinner.

And last night.

Even now the tingling pleasure from mind-blowing sex with Craig flushed through her. Huh, that was interesting. Eliza hadn’t thought she’d still feel such arousal, such a need for him the morning after. She’d thought it was a simple one-night stand.

She should’ve realized nothing with Craig was simple. Had it ever been?

Strangely, Eliza felt no shame at having given into Craig so easily. But she’d wanted Craig; it had been as simple as that. Well, maybe simple was the wrong word; sex should be simple, she’d always thought. Sex with Craig had not been.

Eliza wasn’t certain what it had been though—toe-curling and mind-blowing? Oh, yes. But nothing more than that. Well, maybe just a little more. Maybe more than a little more. Gentler than she imagined, and not quite as exotic as she’d envisioned Craig wanting, like some position from the Kama Sutra. Instead it had been…consuming.

It had consumed her to a degree Eliza hadn’t been aware existed, and now she didn’t know what to do or think. Or even feel. It confused her, the gentleness from him, the caring. It touched a part of her Eliza hadn’t realized needed touching.

Or that Craig, of all people, could touch it. It bothered her. She shouldn’t be confused after sex. Especially sex with Craig. But the way he’d touched her hadn’t been like a man out for his next score. It’d been like a lover who knew her better than she knew herself.

Eliza swallowed and pushed those thoughts aside. She still had a friendship with Craig, and maybe that had added that little extra to their sex. Yes. That was probably all it was.

Besides, she did know Craig well enough. And now that she’d let him win…

Eliza looked around her partially unpacked room and sighed. Now that he’d gotten what he wanted, she’d no doubt be packed and asked to leave by day’s end.

She made a little bet with herself over that time frame. She’d no doubt be able to time his next challenge with a stopwatch. Craig’s attention span lasted about as long as the life of a gnat, and he’d be onto his next challenge momentarily. Really, she probably should be offended when he inevitably asked her to give him space.

However, she did know Craig. And since she expected him to ask her to give him space, a euphemism for simply kicking her out, the only thing Eliza had to be mad at him for was forcing her to go back to that hotel and sharing a room with chatty Rachel.

Eliza decided to just say something after breakfast. Probably safer that way, too. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with the inevitable awkwardness.

Yes, best to get out now. Before…

Shaking her head, she found her shoes and slipped them on. She had to get to work, and she wanted breakfast before doing so.

No time like the present to face the uncomfortable after-sex scene.

The kitchen was a sweeping expanse of granite and windows. Eliza had always loved it, the way it didn’t so much feel like a kitchen but an open room that embraced rather than forced one to work. Sunlight filled the room, shining off the stainless steel appliances, and the fresh scent of coffee greeted her.

Eliza stopped dead in her tracks only a few feet into the room.

Craig had made breakfast. Craig had made breakfast and had set the table. And there was a bouquet of flowers in the center, with a couple cut ones on what had to be her place setting. The entire scene screamed romance, but the scream did little to penetrate her stunned mind.

Oh. Wow. She swallowed hard and forced her feet to move. Plastering a smile on her face, she tried to figure out what was going on.

And then he saw her. Craig smiled a wide, welcoming grin that did interesting things to her insides, and crossed the room. The kiss didn’t just curl her toes, it blanked her mind. Every single thought she’d had since showering this morning fled without a backward glance.

His hands framed her face, slipped into her hair, and cupped the back of her neck as his mouth claimed hers.

Eliza struggled to think of a better word, but words refused to form as she opened her mouth beneath his and kissed him back. He tasted of coffee and toast, and suddenly she found herself pressed against him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she stood on her toes to press more firmly into him.

Breathing heavily, her mind frantically scrambling to find its missing words, Eliza stepped back. She licked her lips, tasted him there, and wondered what the hell that was all about.

“That was quite a good morning,” she managed.

Not her best after-sex opening line. How did he do that—make all her careful words disappear? But then she smiled and with a saucy wink smacked him lightly on the ass.

He grinned unrepentantly back at her.

Eliza swallowed hard and turned to the table. “This is nice.” She nodded to the flowers.

Craig’s slow smile made her heart flip and her body completely willing to skip work today in favor of exploring Craig. Deeply and thoroughly exploring Craig with less thought and more positions.

“It was more than nice,” he said, his voice low and rumbling. His words went straight through her, and Eliza completely forgot why she’d wanted to go to work in the first place.

Kitchen sex was a much nicer idea.

“Where are your minions?” she asked. Was that her voice? That low, enticing sound?

“I gave them the morning off,” he said.

She wasn’t mistaken. He didn’t walk toward her and the table; he prowled. Riveted, Eliza stepped closer. Food? Who needed food?

“I thought we could use a little privacy today,” he added, standing before her now.

“You do realize,” she said in that same tone she couldn’t seem to stop, “I have to go to work.”

But then her hand rose, caressing his cheek as he leaned closer. His mouth was right there, so close, and she licked her lips.

Eliza took a mental step back. She blinked up at Craig, taking in his dark, hungry look and his mouth. Oh, that mouth. Clearing her throat, she physically took a step back, too. A tray sat on the counter, laden with jams, and she crossed to it and selected the blackberry one.

“Work?” he questioned. But his eyes tracked her across the kitchen, and she wondered what he was talking about.

Oh, right. She needed to go to work today.

“I thought we could enjoy more of what the Hamptons has to offer.” Craig’s smile widened and she stared, trying to scramble for the safety of her sarcastic, snarky friendship with him.

“Who am I kidding?” His low laugh had heat rushing through her, and she forgot about the jam. “I thought we could enjoy more of each other like we did last night.”

He was right in front of her again, and when had he moved? He plucked the jar from her fingers and set it back on the tray. Then his hands cupped her shoulders, his fingers brushing the exposed sides of her neck.

Eliza shivered and arched into him, helpless to do otherwise. But she took a deep breath and added another mental step back from Craig. Maybe two.

“Last night was fun,” she admitted. Her voice wasn’t quite as strong or teasing or even dismissive as she’d hoped. “Is this where you start your gloat?”

That eyebrow raised. “I don’t think there’s anything to gloat about,” he said. Calm, curious, seductive. How could those words be seductive?

“Except how you drove me crazy,” he continued. “There are a lot of things about you that drive me crazy. Your full lips. Every time I see them, I want to do this.”

He bent down to kiss her, a slow exploration that nonetheless pounded through her.

“And this hair.” His hands tangled in her long, curly locks. “It calls me like a beacon.” His lips hovered over hers, his hands in her hair, holding her to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, and then his lips were back on hers.

He wanted to have sex again.

Eliza pulled back and looked up at his dark eyes, trying to figure him out. She’d been so sure he’d dismiss her or ignore last night that she hadn’t planned for this.

What the hell.

Winding her arms around his neck, he pressed her body to his and opened her mouth to him. The counter dug into her back, but all Eliza noticed was how familiar his kiss felt. How much the taste of him had already seeped into her. She decided, as his hands slowly moved over her curves to her generous hips, that she could quite happily spend the rest of today learning every inch of his mouth, every hidden taste to be found.

But urgency pounded through her. Eliza couldn’t quite determine if the urgency was because she needed to get to work or if she needed to enjoy Craig while she could, while he was still horny. All she knew was that she needed him. Now.

Needed this version of him for a little while longer. The man who wanted her with such intensity she couldn’t think, all she could do was want. Want to feel him against her, his muscles under her touch, his skin under her mouth.

Her fingers quickly undid his button-down, tugging on the shirt until his muscled, bare chest lay exposed before her. Eliza licked her way down his neck, tasting him as she went. Lust hit her hard and fast, and she took it, letting it sweep her away as Craig’s hands undid the button to her pants—and what a day to wear pants instead of a skirt.

Breaking away, breathing hard as she pulled back, Eliza looked up into Craig’s dark eyes, seeing the hot hunger that wanted to grab her and sweep her away. Damn if she didn’t want to be swept away. She hurriedly kicked off her shoes, tugged down her trousers and panties, and stood before him, curvy and naked.

His gaze ran over her, and she felt wanton. She wanted him to see her, wanted him to know what it was like to be with a woman who wasn’t a size zero. Wanted him to know her curves, to want her curves. In his gaze, the hot darkness of it, the hunger there, she saw how he did enjoy her. How he wanted her.

Breathing heavily, his focus entirely on her, Craig gently cupped her breasts. Eliza shuddered and arched into his touch as another wave of arousal speared through her.

She stood on tiptoes and kissed the underside of his jaw, down his throat, desperate to taste his chest, every inch of the skin spread out before her. Eliza nipped at the curve of his shoulder, ran her tongue over the spot and felt a rumble of sound escape Craig.

She’d wanted to do that for such a long time. All those muscles, all that hardness beneath her. It was a thrill, a secret thrill she’d never thought she’d get.

But the gentle slowness and the heartbeat of tenderness vanished.

Her fingers traced the muscles of his arms, his stomach, her mouth following her fingers and tongue running over every inch she could reach. Eliza tangled her fingers in his hair, the strands soft against her palms, and kissed him hard. Desperate to taste him, to drown in the pleasure simply kissing him gave her.

Craig rolled her nipples in his long fingers, tugged, and then tugged harder until she cried out. Eliza didn’t know how they moved from the counter to the table, but suddenly her legs were wrapped around Craig’s waist; her fingers danced over his hardness, and he cursed.

“Hold on,” he breathed, but his mouth grazed over her neck, sucking briefly on her pounding pulse.

She stilled, right on the edge of climax; she stilled and waited. Somehow having sex on the kitchen table seemed apropos. One last tumble before he “needed space”—hard and fast and a literal tumble in his kitchen.

But then Craig kissed her with a deepness Eliza felt in her bones. He pressed her to the table, his cock hard between them, but he didn’t move. Didn’t attempt to enter her or seek his own orgasm.

He kissed her. His hands tangled in her hair and his fingers pressed tight against her scalp, his mouth taking and taking, tongue sweeping along hers.

Slowly, as if it pained him to do so, Craig pulled back. Dazed, Eliza struggled to figure out why he’d done so. It took her a moment to realize he only pulled back to rifle in his pants pockets for a condom. Some emotion in the vicinity of her heart expanded. Usually she was the one reminding lovers of protection.

Craig rolled the condom on and before she could think to form a comment, he entered her. Eliza cried out and wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, pulling him to her, into her.

She met his every thrust though it shook her, made her want more. Her fingers dug into his hips as Eliza tried to anchor herself as her orgasm tightened and tightened through her. She forced her eyes open to look up at Craig.

Sunlight from the back doors cast half his face in shadow, but she clearly saw his eyes locked on hers with such fierce concentration, Eliza faltered. This was Craig, her friend. And, yes, she might’ve fantasized about him once or twice, but she’d never imagined him looking down at her as if she was the only woman in the world.

Eliza gripped the edge of the table, feeling the wood digging into her skin as she tried to find a haven of sanity. But then he moved harder, angling his hips against hers, until she forgot all about fantasies and sunlight pouring over Craig. His hand brushed hers aside, just as her fingers found her center.

“No,” he said against her mouth. He said something else; Eliza thought it sounded like “Mine.” But then she fell.

Fell and flew as her orgasm raced through her and she cried out his name, arching hard against him, her nails pressing into his back, her legs locked around his hips.

When she opened her eyes, languid and sated with a pleasant buzzing in her head, it was to watch him. He continued to move faster now, with less finesse. She shuddered, pleasure still sparking along nerves and building once again.

Craig threw his head back, her name a shout on his lips. She held him tight, holding him close to her as he came.

Desperate. That’s what she’d call this coupling. Desperate. And that desperation had come from nothing more than a look, a desire to touch each other again. Apparently last night hadn’t been enough. Far too fleeting, she thought as she tried to move her limbs. But they seemed perfectly content to hold Craig close and not move. She was fine with that.