A good guy would say hi to her dog. “Absolutely.”
I’ll say hello, then jet.
Ellie shuts the garage, then opens the door to her home, and a blond blur of fur rushes at her, hopping up and down, barking enthusiastically.
The woman’s face lights up. “Hello, my little lady. I know, I know. You have to go to the little girls’ room,” she says, baby-talking the pooch.
I cannot fuck a woman with a chihuahua. Is there any more obvious sign that Ellie’s vanilla? A chihuahua is like the secret handshake of the sweet vanilla girl club.
I cannot corrupt her and then face retribution over croquet.
My mom would take me to task. My aunt would too. They’d point out the ten-year age difference between Ellie and me. They’d remind me I used to babysit her.
The dog jumps once more, then notices me. The football-sized mutt whips around to face me, transforming into an unholy terror.
Hell, her dog will have my ass too.
“Gigi thinks she’s a German shepherd.” Ellie scoops up the pup and tells her, “Gabe is a friend. You can say hi to him.”
Friend.
That’s a gut punch. And it smarts, but hell, it’s for the best. Ellie’s making it clear how she sees me. Gigi must agree, since she settles down, lip uncurling, ears swiveling forward like radar dishes. I pet the pup’s chin. The cutie lifts it higher, asking for more. “Ooh, you’re charming her too,” Ellie coos to me, then puts the dog down. Beckoning me along, Gigi heads to the back door.
Fine, one dog visit, then I am making my excuses.
Ellie slides open the back door, and while her pup races across the yard, the woman in pink slinks over to me on her deck, stopping less than a foot away, right next to an Adirondack chair. She nibbles on the corner of her lips.
A groan escapes me, unbidden, at how much I want to bite those lips too.
She’s not making my great escape any easier. Everything’s harder.
Then she inches closer, reaches for my shirt, tugs me toward her. “Hi. So about that question you asked me. Can we start answering it?”
Be strong.
Resist.
But when Ellie Snow stares wantonly at my mouth, my control starts to fray. One kiss, then I’ll go.
One standard order kiss.
Tenderly, I pull her against me. “Can I kiss you?” I ask.
Her brow creases. Her eyes are full of question marks. “Um, yeah,” she says, like duh.
But I have to treat her carefully for this kiss, or I’ll be in a heap of trouble. So I cup her cheeks. Gently. Then I press my lips to hers and give her a barely-there smooch. I kiss slowly, stroking her cheek as I brush my lips across hers.
Take your time. Treat her with care. She won’t throw rocks at you at the party, then.
But even like this, she’s soft and sexy. Maybe, just maybe, I can learn to like this pace. For her.
Hell, with the way she smells—like cherry blossoms—and feels—like a sexy dream—I can like anything with her.
But does she even like this? She’s kissing me back tentatively. Slowly, like she’s testing the waters. But gradually, she takes the reins, kissing a little harder. Then Ellie rises on tiptoes and kisses me deep.
Oh, fuck. That’s real nice.
I slide a hand through her hair, tenderly stroking her strands, keeping my cool when the dog who thinks she’s a German Shepherd tells me off in a few sharp, stern barks.
I break the kiss. “She’s trying to tell me something, I think.”
Mischief glitters in Ellie’s eyes. “Fortunately, I speak dog,” she says, then picks up the critter. “What did you say, Gigi?”
She pretends to listen to the dog, then nods, pops the pup inside the house, and returns to me. Lifting her chin, she meets my eyes with a fearless gaze. There’s been a shift from before she let the dog inside. She’s ramping up to something.
“Gabe, I want you to kiss me like you’ll die if you don’t.”
Wait. That doesn’t sound like a good girl request.
“Then fuck me so hard I scream.”
My world flips upside down. Are you kidding me?
But she doesn’t need to ask twice. In a flash, I grip her waist, spin her around, and push her up against the wall. I devour her candy lips. In less than a second, she’s squirming.
Yes, fucking yes.
I crush her mouth. Kiss her mercilessly. She moans, a scorching, seductive sound that goes straight to my balls.
I up the ante, grabbing her soft hair, wrapping the strands tightly in my fist. Then tugging hard.
She gasps, then murmurs, “Yessss.”
I dip my face to her neck and bite hard enough to leave a mark.
She answers by grabbing my ass with both hands. Yanks me against her.
Yes, you do only live once.
I grin wickedly as I lick a path to her ear then nip her earlobe.
“Oh god,” she whimpers, then grinds against me.
“This the surprise you wanted?” I rasp out.
“Yes. God, yes. For a while there, I thought you were going to be…really vanilla.”
I laugh. We were really working at cross purposes. But I’m fucking delighted over our good luck. “And I thought you were.”
“I’m not at all,” she says with that same naughty list grin.
I grin. “Me neither.” Then I erase the smile and stare sternly at her. “And for doubting me, you’ll need to turn around right now, and raise your ass,” I command.
Her eyes gleam. “Yes, sir,” she taunts.
I spin her around, shove her hands up against the smooth wood of the outside wall of her house, then smack her ass. “Did I say to call me sir?” I ask harshly.
“No, but I did it anyway,” she says, the fucking vixen.
I swat her covered cheek harder.
She cries out.
My dick thumps against my jeans. That fucker is so damn happy right now. Ellie Snow is a dirty, kinky girl.
“Call me by my name only. Say it if you’re aching for my dick,” I tell her.
“Gabe,” she groans.
“Good girl,” I tell her.
Grabbing her wrists, I push her hands over her head and grind my hard-on against her ass. “You want me to spank you for lying to me?”
She turns to me, an earnest look in her eyes. “How did I lie to you?”
I brush my stubble against the smooth skin of her face. “You pretended to be good, but you’re very, very bad,” I hiss.
“So bad, Gabe,” she pants. “Maybe you need to spank me again. Punish me.”
“You need to be taught a lesson.”
“Teach me, Gabe,” she purrs.
I sweep her hair to the side, kiss her neck, lick a path to her jawline. She tastes so good, and my head swims with lust. “Mmm. But I think I’ll make you wait for the next lesson of my hand.”
“Why?” she whines.
“You need to prove you want me to fuck you hard.”
She pants. “How?”
“Show me how turned on you are.” I let go of her. Step back. Wait.
Slowly, she spins around, her lips parted. “Where do you want me?”
I point to the Adirondack chair. “Take off your skirt and get in that chair. Show me your pussy.”
10