Chapter 10: Not Gentle

The couch was across the loft, and I crossed it barefoot in his sweatshirt.

He was lying on his back with his arm over his eyes.

He hadn't been asleep.

His chest was going too fast.

"Eliza," he said, without moving. "Go back to bed."

"No."

"I mean it."

"So do I." I stood over him. "The terms are broken, Mr. Ardmore."

He took his arm off his face.

"I seconded them," he said.

"You can throw them back at me tomorrow."

He sat up and caught my wrists.

For a moment we only looked at each other.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"Your mouth. Your hands. All of it. Now."

He made a rough sound and pulled me down onto his lap.

His mouth found mine, and it was nothing like the kiss against the wall.

It was slow and deep, and he tasted of coffee and rain.

I got my hands under his shirt and dragged it up.

He let me take it off him.

He was broad and warm, with a long white scar across his ribs.

I pressed my palms flat on his chest.

"Your turn," he said.

He lifted the grey sweatshirt over my head and dropped it on the floor.

I had nothing on under it.

For a moment I wanted to cover myself.

"Look at me," he said. "Not at the scar. At me."

I looked.

His eyes went over my breasts and my belly and the pale line low on my stomach.

I had hidden that line for five years.

He didn't flinch.

He laid his hand over it, wide and careful, and bent his head.

He kissed it from one end to the other.

Something in my chest came loose.

"Eli."

"I know."

"Don't be gentle."

He lifted his eyes, and they were nearly black.

"I wasn't planning on it," he said.

He turned me onto my back on the couch and kissed down my body.

He took my nipple into his mouth and sucked hard.