Page 8 of Obsessed with my Guardian

I clear my throat. “What do you mean?”

“Give me a few.”

A lump pulses in my throat. “Hmm, I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

“Maybe you need to ask Mrs. Trevino? C’mon. If you need more than five seconds to answer, that means I’m unattractive and boring.” She slips off the bed and falls on the carpeted floor, scooting closer to where I’m sitting. “For instance, if you asked me, I’d have a much better answer.”

She gets on her knees and slides closer, a glint of amusement in her eyes. This is a fun joke, I tell myself. Nothing different than what she’s done lately. Nothing will come of it.

I debate whether I should dash, but before I get off the chair, she shortens the gap between us, still on her knees but now with her elbows touching my knees.

Just fucking go, asshole.

I will myself to move, but her eyes entrance me. Her big brown irises and the rings of dark gold around them. The manicured eyebrows framing her eyes and enhance the expressive glances that take my breath away.

“Eloise—”

“Your eyes,” she blurts. She stares at me to prove her point.

I want to look away. I try, but even my eyeballs are stubborn, and she’s holding me hostage. My whole body is stiff, rigid, tense.

She leans closer without breaking the contact. Tension charges the air. “Sometimes, they’re bright green like freshly cut grass on a spring day,” she says, her sexy voice sending thrills through me. “Other times, like now… they darken to a forest green.”

I clear my throat and inhale slowly. “Very perceptive. I should get going because I can’t top your way with words.”

“Maybe not, but you can do better. You can show me.”

Her gaze falls to my lips, and zings of lust travel through me, darting at numerous parts of my body, suffocating me. I know I should move her out of my way. Stand and leave this nonsense. But something has shifted. My heart thrums in my chest.

I should leave. I should.

Instead, I pull her into my arms and lower my lips to hers.

5

Eloise

I placemy hands on his hard, wide chest, and my fingers bite into the fabric of his shirt. He’s big, strong, and powerful. He coaxes my lips open with his, and for a moment, I don’t move. My nerve endings sizzle, and all my body parts are in hormonal overdrive.

Yes, I was bold to dress provocatively and talk suggestively, but now reality hits me. I’m not that experienced. I’m not even sure I’m a good kisser—I like to think so, but it’s been way too long since I last dated.

He swipes his tongue over mine, and my overthinking hits pause. An intense current of sensations surges through me, and I glide my hands up and down his chest, feeling his abs and loving the way he inhales under my touch. I need to know he’s real—that this is happening.

Without breaking the kiss, he slides off the chair and onto the rug, pulling me until I’m straddling him. Even though I’m on top of him, he’s the one in control, intensifying the kiss, sneaking his hands under my shorts until they cup my ass.

A quiver goes through me, and I wrap my arms around him. I feel his cock, hard and proud, poking me through the confines of our clothes.

He kneads my ass, and I undulate my hips, a natural reaction. I hope I’m turning him on the same way he’s setting me on fire.

His fingers take me on an erotic massage, and I shift in his lap. My pussy feels tight, pulsating, wet. I rub it against his torso, desperate for release, but the intimate contact with his hard body only enhances my agony. He disengages his mouth from mine for a second, and a low growl fills the air. Then, he kisses me again, with full force, his hands matching his rhythm, cupping my ass like I’ll disappear if he stops.

My underwear is drenched. The pulse between my legs rivals the one in my neck. I need to do something.

I move my hands to his head, sinking my fingers into his hair and scratching his scalp. He produces a thick sound of approval that reverberates through me, encouraging me to explore him further. I stroke his tongue with mine, taking a more active role in the kiss, eager to show him how much I want him.

He must sense what I’m doing because he slowly disengages from me. My head bobs, still trying to hold him when he removes my hands and rears back. “Eloise.”

“Yes.” I whisper the only word I can think of right now.

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