Page 3 of Obsessed with my Guardian

Eloise is standing next to the island, gesturing at the candlelight dinner in the breakfast nook. She’s still wearing the same yellow dress from earlier. It’s a cotton V-neck outfit one could wear on a summer day to go out with friends. She’s not wearing a bra, which makes every part of me take notice and perk up.Fuck.

“I hope you don’t mind… I set the table,” she says in a soft voice.

“Not at all.” I turn on a harsher light, wishing it were like those fluorescent ones bolted to the ceiling that people find in rundown fast-food places or asylums in horror movies. But the only horrific thing about this situation is my growing awareness. I need to stop this nonsense now if I don’t want something else to grow.

I go to the table and douse the candles with one strong blow. The pretty vanilla scent swirls around me.

“You don’t like candles?” she asks behind me.

“No. The smell distracts me from my food.” It’s an outright lie, but at least I killed the romantic mood she’d orchestrated. Small win for me.

“Oh, okay.” She shrugs.

I pull out my chair, forgetting my manners to seat her first. This isn’t a date, and I’m afraid I can’t let anything slip that’ll give her hope. So I sit and start serving myself.

She sits in front of me, and her big brown eyes travel up and down my face, exposing me like I’ve been caught naked. I help myself to a generous portion of salad and the Kobe filet dipped in an herby chimichurri sauce.

I focus on the food, on eating it, and not on looking at the incredibly attractive, braless woman before me. I don’t need to look at her and get distracted by her pretty eyes or how she runs her fingers through her auburn hair. A few freckles pepper her nose and cheeks, making her even more adorable.

She chuckles. “You like meat, huh?”

I clear my throat. “Protein,” I say curtly, leaving no room for innuendos.

“Oh, yes. You work out a lot, and it shows,” she says with an amused look.

Does she know she’s making me uncomfortable?

Eloise reaches for a bottle of wine and pours some in a glass.

I lift my hand in denial. “Eloise, you can’t have alcohol. You’re not twenty-one.” I’m pretty sure I saw Denis, her father, give her a glass filled with champagne on a special occasion before, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go along with it.

She brings her glass to her nose and sniffs in a clumsy bouquet. “A small glass wouldn’t be a problem if we were in France.”

“But we’re not. It’s illegal and inappropriate.” A memory of me pushing alcohol away from my mom flashes in my head. A bitter taste floats up my throat. I wasn’t strong enough to keep her from drinking and ruining her life and mine.

Eloise moves the glass to her mouth. “Relax, Reed. You told me yourself—I’m an adult now. I get to make my own decisions.”

I know she’s pushing the limits. Damn the woman. For someone inexperienced with men, she sure knows how to push the right buttons.

She takes a swig, and when she puts the glass down, I steal it and drink the remains in one big gulp. She reaches for the bottle, but I yank it from her. Then, the brat goes around the table and leans on me to steal it back.

She chuckles. “C’mon, don’t be a killjoy.”

I’m nothing but serious energy, stiff, and sexually frustrated. She rubs her body against mine as she tries to get the bottle I’m holding behind the chair. Her tits rub against my chest, and then she’s straddling me. The way she moves as I try to push her away is the most tortuous dry humping I’ve ever experienced.

My breath is restricted, and I think I’m about to die. I want her so much that my heart rate spikes and little dots show up in my field of vision. When I thought she was heaven and hell, I never imagined literally—like she could be my ticket to an early grave.

My cock swells in my pants, and a wave of heat washes through me. I’m sure she feels it.

“Eloise, get away,” I say under my breath, gathering every ounce of strength I have left.

“Not without the bottle,” she says in a playful tone.

She’s fucking with me, leaning closer so her pussy presses against me. I catch a whiff of her feminine smell as she runs her fingers down my arms until the bottle drops on the marble floor, and a swooshing noise startles me.

“Get the fuck away,” I push her off me.

She looks at me, eyes wide. I glance down at the floor to see a growing puddle of red wine under my seat.

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