Page 23 of Life

I shake my head so fast it could very well pop off my neck. “Yo no cocino.I’m skilled at burning water.”

He sighs. “Beauty, brains, a body that doesn’t quit…but you can’t cook. I knew there had to be something wrong with you aside from that smartass mouth. That’s going in the con column.”

“But the other things, they’re in the pro?” I quip.

He clucks his tongue and rubs at the hair on his chin. It makes a grating noise that forces shivers up my back. Dead sexy. I love a bit of scruff on a man. A clean shave is nice, but a bit of edge to my man makes my heart go pitter-patter and my pussy jump with joy.

“Oh yeah. Your pro list is climbing too,” he offers.

I push back my hair and settle onto a stool to watch him work. “Well, that’s a relief. And here I was worried you wouldn’t think I was pretty.”

“We already established you’re fucking beautiful, but you know that already and use it to your advantage. A lot. Don’t try to play the coy card with me or bat those baby blues. I’ve got your number, babe.”

I glare at him and then trace the veins in the granite countertop. Eli has a point. I’ve been known to use my looks to my advantage a time or two. When you grow up with nothing, you use whatever is in your bag of tricks to get ahead without stepping on toes and making waves. My athletic ability paired with my face and curvy body have gotten me into countless auditions. I’ve also never paid for a drink at a bar in my life.

Instead of agreeing with him, I change the subject. “So I heard you on the phone with Chase. You’re planning to go see Antonio today?”

He cracks a few eggs into the pan. They sizzle and pop instantly. Quick as a wink, he turns over the bacon, browning the one side to absolute crispy perfection, and then pushes down a couple pieces of toast.

“Yup.”

“I want to go with you.”

He stops with the spatula held in the air and turns around as slow as honey dripping down the bark of a tree. “You are going nowhere near that man. Nowhere near. You got me?” His tone is a low timbre that seeps through my pores, delving deep into my bones.

“Eli, this is my battle…”

Before I can say another word, he’s turned down the flame on both burners, whipped around the island, opened my thighs, and planted himself directly between them. He curls both hands around my cheeks, tipping my head back. His eyes seem to bounce all over my features as if he doesn’t know where to focus his attention. Finally he settles on a firm stare. “Nowhere. Near. Got it?”

I scowl, but once again I’m unable to speak, because he places his thumb over my lips.

“You may have been my brother’s girl once upon a time, but babe, you admitted he hadn’t had you in a month. That, to me, means things between you were changing whether you wanted to admit it or not. Now, I’m willing to give you time to understand what’s starting up here between us, but not forever. Regardless, let’s get one thing clear. When it comes to your safety, I call the shots.”

I snort right into his face. “You call the shots?You. Call. The. Shots.” I shake my head. “Us? Let’s get one thing perfectly clear right now. I take care of me. Secondly, there is no us.Comprende?”

“Babe, there is.” His eyes soften, and his face moves closer to mine.

I swallow around the lump forming in my throat at his proximity, as a trickle of anticipation tingles against the curve of my lower back. The one place on my body that always takes notice when I’m turned on.

“Just two days ago, I buried your brother.”

Eli plants his hands on the counter behind me and leans his face near my neck. I can feel his breath as he dips his face closer. “Christ. Normally, I catch the scent of flowers but damn. Right now, you smell like cherries in the dead of summer. So sweet. Ripe. I’d like to take a juicy bite right out of you, babe.”

With effort, I place my hands on his bare chest. He still hasn’t put a shirt on. Everything in me says to lean into the haven I found there last night, wallow in the safety he is providing, but the independent woman in me is balking and bitch-slapping her way to the surface. Using my best effort, I push hard against his chest. He barely moves back an inch.

“Did you not hear what I said?”

He nuzzles my neck, and I close my eyes, enjoying the flesh-on-flesh contact.

“I heard you, Spicy. Those two things are not mutually exclusive.”

“Are you insane?”

“Not the last time I checked, although I have been knocked on the head a time or two.”

“Dios mio. Voy a matarte,” I say right as his lips touch down on the tender column of my neck. As much as I want to deny it, that single touch sends a bolt of desire ripping through every nerve ending, landing with a bout of arousal at the apex of my thighs.

He chuckles against my neck where he places another wet press of his lips. “You are not going to kill me. The sooner you realize I’m not going to back off, the sooner we can get to the good part.”

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