Tease, I hiss. She smiles against me before her tongue draws down my sternum, over the ripple of my abs until her chin brushes the tip of my dick. Her nose nuzzles along my stiff length, and I groan.
Don’t fucking tease me, I strain, knowing she won’t deny me, but she’s going to play with me first. Her tongue comes out once again, and she licks along the length of me, taking her time before she gets to the crown. Her mouth opens, and she sucks only at the head, a swirling lick. I smile despite myself. She’s asking for it. Payback will be sweet revenge, and I can’t wait to get my mouth on her, but first, she’s going to take care of me.
With my hand still fisted in her hair, she lifts herself only a little. Using her hand to hold me upright, she then slides me to the back of her throat.
Jesus.
She purrs against me, the vibration a tickle along my dick, which jolts within the warmth of her mouth.
Fuck that feels good, I repeat, marveling at how different it feels coming from her. How different I feel with her mouth on me like this.
She takes her time to lick and lap before hollowing her cheeks and drawing me in deep. Her head bobs. Her tongue swirls, and my toes curl. My back tightens, and my head lifts as I come…
In my fist.
I pump and squeeze, finishing off myself as the dream haunts me, and Ella’s name slips from my lips.
Holy shit.
My head falls back on the pillow, and I stare up at the ceiling.
“The upstairs is off-limits.” That was the last thing Jacob said to me when he explained that Ella’s bedroom is above mine. His room is at the opposite end of the strange bridge over the living room.
I swipe my clean hand into my thick hair, holding the curls back at the top of my head.
Damn, it’s going to be hard to face her, knowing what she did to me in my dream. And then I laugh to myself as I realize it was only a dream.
Or maybe a nightmare.
+ + +
As long as I’m awake early, I decide to get the day started. I shower, clean up my scruff, and dress in something a little nicer than my uniform from the past week of sweats and a T-shirt. After entering the kitchen, I decide to take stock. My head’s in the refrigerator, counting the eggs before I close the door and catch my breath.
“Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me.” I stand with a hand to my chest, my heart racing underneath. It appears I’m not the only one startled.
Ella stands with one hand on the counter and another on the island. Her wild autumn-colored hair looks even wilder in her sleep-hazed state, and damn if she doesn’t look sexy as hell. The short tee she’s wearing barely comes to the top of her legs, causing my morning wet dream to return in full color along with my hard-on.
Only Ella looks primed and prepped for another verbal castration.
“Don’t yell,” I warn her, holding up my hands as if I’m surrendering.
“I thought you were Jacob,” she mutters, her eyes feral. That green flashes at me as though she’s about to laser beam me into a new century. I swear, she looks possessed and upset. Definitely upset. “What the fuck are you doing in my kitchen again?”
Anndd I see we are back to this, only it’s not her kitchen, I’ve learned, and I don’t work for her. Well, not directly. Okay, maybe. Kind of.
“You’ve got a dirty mouth for such a pretty face.”
“Are you mocking me?” she snarls, her tone like that of a venomous dog ready to bite.
“No.” Here’s a word she seems to understand although maybe not practice herself.
“How did you get in here?” she groans. Her stance remains ready to pounce. Her chest heaves. Her shirt rises. My eyes can’t help but travel to the bare length of her legs. She’s tall. Not as tall as me but I’d guess five-nine, five-ten, which is a good height. The perfect height for all kinds of things.
Only when my eyes meet hers, I’m reminded nothing is going to happen with this woman.
Not only because she’s ready to murder me where I stand but because I signed the damn NDA. A contract that, simply put, states Ella is off-limits to me. I’m not risking anything that might get in the way of that money. Not even my overeager dick, which is rock-hard from looking at her.
I turn for the fridge again.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she hisses.
Now who’s the stupid one? “I’m making breakfast,” I say as I pull out the carton of eggs. “How do you like your eggs?”
“On your face,” she snaps. I chuckle. Without thinking, I rush into her space, crowding her. Her breath hitches, but I ignore the telling catch.
“If you want to be on my face, all you ever have to do is ask, princess.”
Her hand comes to my cheek so quickly that I don’t see it, but I certainly deserve it.
“I…” I should not have said that, and despite the sting on my face, I hold my position. “I apologize.”
Those are hard words to swallow when a woman is threatening to throw eggs at me or dismember me with a glare. However, I asked for what she’s dished. I step back from her, noticing sweat on her brow and a tremble in her arms.
“Are you okay?” I swear she looks like a wild banshee ready to snap.
“What’s going on?” The swing door leading into the kitchen opens and flaps shut on Jacob’s words. I stare at Ella, waiting for her to tell her stepbrother what I said and demand he let me go. She’s still breathing heavily as sweat trickles along the side of her face and over her scar.
“Urgh,” she groans in frustration, pushing off the counter and island simultaneously, and spins for the back entrance. There’s a direct entrance to her room above the kitchen. Her bedroom over mine. The bedroom off-limits to me, as is she.
“What’d I miss?” Jacob teases, oblivious to the sting on my cheek. I’m glad he finds humor at the moment because I’m seething. With the removal of Ella from the room, I realize I’m shaky as well because I was one step away from doing something I should never do.
Kiss her.
That’s right. Her little temper turns me on, and I don’t have a fucking clue why. Maybe I just love the challenge. Maybe it’s because her eyes conflict with the sass on her lips. While those laser beams glare with intent to harm, there’s something behind that summer green color I can’t get a read on just yet.
I finally pull my eyes from where Ella disappeared, swipe a hand into my hair, and hold it at the top of my head a second. After a deep breath, I answer Jacob by ignoring his question.
“I was about to make breakfast. What would you like?”
Jacob shrugs. “I hate to eat alone, so whatever you plan to make, feel free to make enough for yourself and join me.”
Interesting. I turn for the refrigerator one more time and remove a carton of eggs. I also discover some salvageable spinach, pre-cooked bacon, and fresh tomatoes.
“Who does your grocery shopping?” I tease, checking out the meager stock of items.
“Sometimes me. Sometimes Pam.”
As I close the fridge after removing the items, I question him about Pam. “What exactly does she do for you?”
“She…assists me.” His vague answer doesn’t settle well with me.
“With your book stuff?”
Jacob lowers to an island stool and chuckles to himself. “Yeah, book stuff.” I’m even more nervous about what she does for him, but then we both hear a thud overhead and glance upward at the ceiling.