Melissa and Jeff stood up. “We . . . uh, we better go,” he said.
“Uh, yeah,” Melissa echoed.
In seconds, they were out the door and hurrying toward the car.
Chelsea and Eli broke apart and stood there glaring at each other.
“Are they gone?” Chelsea whispered.
Eli turned just slightly. “Burning rubber.” He looked back at her and they began to laugh so hard they fell on each other.
“Did you see their faces?” she asked.
“They were shocked. You certainly broke up the party with that kiss,” he said.
“I had to stop her from asking questions. I guess I could have slapped you, but I was afraid Melissa might draw her gun on me.”
Eli stopped laughing.
She pulled back to look at him, and when she saw his eyes glowing, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, but this time for real. His body was pressed against hers and he felt so very good.
His tongue, his full lips, the strength of him, were all causing her to lose herself.
He moved to kiss her neck. “No commitment, understand?” he whispered.
“None.” Her head was tilted, giving him access to her throat. His hands were roaming over her back.
“I want that white picket fence,” he said. “I want kids and a wife in an apron, and a casserole in the oven. And you want none of that.”
“That’s right,” she said, “I don’t.” Her eyes were closed as she gave herself over to his lips, his hands, to the feel of his mouth against hers.
When he took a step forward, she went with him. He put his hands under her behind and lifted her to the back of the couch. Within seconds, he’d unbuttoned her blouse and his face was on her breasts.
Chelsea knew she’d never wanted anyone as much as she wanted this man. This was Eli. Friends forever.
She opened her jeans-clad legs and held him to her, her ankles clasped at the back of him. Her hands were in his hair, her head back.
His hands slipped under her shirt, moved over her smooth skin, and deftly unfastened her bra. He took a pink tip in his mouth, his tongue caressing in a way that sent waves through her body.
She was hardly aware that his hands were unfastening her jeans. When his fingertips touched the skin below her navel, she caught her breath.
His head came up to her lips, encasing them, devouring them, as his hands held her head.
“Eli,” she whispered. “Make love to me.”
“I mean to. I—”
Suddenly, he stepped back from her. “Damn! I can’t.”
She glanced downward. He was ready for her. “Yes you can. I believe in you.”
He looked at his watch. “It’s late and I have to sleep.” He took another step back. “I didn’t tell you, but I got a call from the office and tomorrow I have an early duty.” Another step back. “But I must say that you look really good, Chelsea. Really, really good. Maybe next time.”
With that, he took a few more steps backward, then went into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.
For a long moment, Chelsea stayed seated on the back of the couch. Her shirt was open, her bra loose and exposing her breasts. Her jeans were open down to her tiny thong.
Her first thought was to pound on Eli’s bedroom door and demand . . . What? An apology? That he continue?