13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Mia

My body has been on edge all day. That kiss last night—it shook me. Never have I had such an explosive feeling before like I did when he claimed my mouth.

Fuck, he knows how to kiss a woman.

But he stormed off like a mad man, regretting the best thirty seconds of my life. I can’t lie, it hurt. He clearly doesn’t want to want me. Is it because I’m his sister’s friend? And what does he mean he’s messed up in the head?

I shouldn’t care. I should just move on and forget it, but I’m drawn to him. I want to know more about him. I want to know what made him this way.

A knock from the front door pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Hello!” Layla’s voice echoes in the foyer.

Relief floods me that I don’t have to be in this house alone with Eric for a couple of hours. I think we both need some other people here to cut the sexual tension between us.

“Hey big brother. Look at you. No more sling!” I hear her say.

Her and Eric walk into the kitchen while I pour myself a glass of wine. Two other people that I’ve never seen before trail behind them. I’m loving the idea of more people here tonight.

“Yeah, I just talked to a physical therapist. He told me as long as the pain is tolerable, I can stop using the sling.”

I didn’t realize he was going to be out of the sling so quickly. It’s only been four days. A weird sense of disappointment hits. Is he going to go back to work tomorrow? I guess this also means that he doesn’t need my help changing.

Shit. I need to get a hold of myself. I’m upset that I don’t have an excuse to change the shirt of a grown man.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re recovering quickly,” Josh hits his back. “It’s nice to see you on a Tuesday night. You’re normally claiming to be too busy at work to get out on time.”

Eric smiles and rolls his eyes. He seems to have a playful relationship with Josh. I’m glad Layla found someone who seems to fit in so well with her family.

“Nice to see you again, Mia,” Josh says as he gives me a big hug. “How has it been living with this man?”

“Eh, pretty uneventful,” I lie as I steal a glance Eric’s way.

His brows knit together in a tight, hostile line. He doesn’t approve of my remark, but I don’t care. Am I supposed to tell everyone how close I came to having sex with him last night? Or how much I still want to despite his grouchy demeanor.

“Pretty uneventful, huh?” Eric crosses his arms across his chest. “Was last night uneventful?”

“What happened last night?” Layla asks.

I shoot him a look that could cut glass.

“Nothing happened,” I interject before he can talk any further. “Your brother and I were watching a chick flick, and he started crying. It was very entertaining. Hi, I’m Mia,” I extend my hand to the woman standing across from me, trying to contain the smile that wants to break free. Eric is giving me a death stare right now.

That’ll teach him to mess with me.

“Hi, I’m Avery,” she smiles kindly. “I’ve heard so much about you. Layla’s pretty excited to have you here.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve definitely heard your name over the years.”

“And this is Ryder,” Layla says, pointing to the tall, handsome man standing next to her. “He’s a friend of Josh’s.”

Oh, so this is not Avery’s boyfriend. Interesting. He’s extremely good-looking.

“Nice to meet you, Mia,” he says, his eyes travel my body’s height.

“Nice to meet you,” I shake his hand.

“Well, let’s go outside and have some dinner.” Layla leads the way. “I hope everyone has a sweater, it’s kind of chilly out tonight, but it’s perfect sweater weather!”

I’m so excited to try some more of the food she brought from her restaurant. I’m also feeling horrible that I haven’t stopped in yet, but I know she understands. I’ve already told her I’m working up the courage to leave the house. It’s still scary with no more news on Don’s whereabouts. My brother assures me they are all over it, but they haven’t come up with any solid leads yet.

We all take a seat outside around the large table. Ryder sits next to me while Avery and Eric sit across from us. I suddenly wonder if there has ever been anything between the two of them. A sharp pain of jealousy stabs me in the chest.

“Thanks so much for bringing food,” I tell Layla as she sets it out for us. “I’m excited to eventually check out the restaurant.

I fidget in my seat, uncomfortable with even having to navigate around this subject of me not being able to leave the house. She must sense my feelings.

“You take as long as you need,” she says with an understanding smile.

“So, Mia,” Ryder turns to me, “what can I plate you with?”

“Oh, umm, thanks. I think I want to try a little of everything,” I admit shyly.

Ryder smirks. “Not afraid to eat. That’s my kind of woman.”

Eric coughs loudly and I think I catch a roll of his eyes. That can’t be jealousy coming from him, can it? The idea that a man like him could be jealous over me sparks a bit of excitement.

After everyone has their food, Josh holds up his glass of wine. “A toast,” he begins, “to finally getting to know Mia, a longtime friend of Layla’s. To all our health, especially Eric’s close call the other night, and to my amazing fiancée and her skills in the kitchen. Which I can tell you is not the only place she is skilled.”

I chuckle while Layla gasps.

“Seriously, dude,” Eric cringes. “That’s my sister. You gotta stop with that shit in front of me.”

“Oh, please. You all seem to fall in love with each other’s friends then cry about it later like you can’t believe that means they have sex,” Avery rolls her eyes then takes a sip of wine.

I smile at her. I think I like her. She’s the type to speak her mind. Still—she better not have slept with Eric.

“Mia, what brings you to Isle of Hope?” Ryder asks.

My spine goes rigid. My mouth falls open as I try to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Umm,” I stutter, wondering why I can’t come up with a simple lie as those around me who know the truth sit in silence.

“She’s just taking a much-deserved vacation from her job,” Eric cuts in. “She wanted to spend some time with Layla, but I offered up my place since I have the extra space.”

There was a depth in his expression, a quiet assurance that conveyed empathy without words. His eyes hold mine, making me feel seen and valued in ways I’ve never felt.

“That’s cool,” Ryder responds, clueless to the interaction I’m having with the man opposite me, “what do you do for a living?”

My eyes break away from Eric’s. “I own a wine distribution company with my brothers.”

“She’s being modest,” Layla says. “She owns an extremely successful wine distribution company.”

Ryder’s eyebrows raise. “I’m impressed. Beautiful and successful.”

I smile to myself, slightly embarrassed by the attention. “It’s no big deal. It’s a joint effort with me and my brothers.”

Sometime after dinner when we’re enjoying our drinks, Ryder’s arm rests on the back of my chair. He keeps it there the rest of the evening, leaning toward me when he talks. Eric has had a scowl on his face throughout most of the dinner, his eyes bouncing between me and Ryder.

I may have flirted back with Ryder a lot during dinner, knowing it was getting to Eric. He doesn’t get to push me away then be furious when I have another man’s attention.

At the end of the night, we’re saying goodbye to everyone and Ryder leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek.

“I’d love to take you out sometime while you’re in town,” he says. “Can I get your number?”

“Oh, um, sure,” I hesitate. He’s a very nice guy, and definitely attractive. But I can’t lie and say I wasn’t thinking about the grump across the table all night. But I don’t want to hurt Ryder’s feelings or make this awkward by saying no in front of everybody. So, I rattle off my number and say goodbye.

The door closes and Eric disappears before I have a chance to say anything to him. I’m tired and don’t feel like chasing him around the house trying to gauge how pissed off he actually is.

I’m in my room stepping out of my jeans when my door opens. “What the hell, Eric?” I scream.

He doesn’t answer and strides further into my room until he is inches away from me. His presence is palpable, his breathing mingles with mine in the centimeters that now separates us.

“You have fun trying to make me jealous all night?” His fingers play with a strand of my hair, then quickly drops it.

I can’t believe he’s storming into my room without knocking and accusing me of this. He’s got some nerve.

“Why? Are you saying that you were jealous tonight?”

“Be careful, Mia. I only have so much self-control,” he threatens before he walks away.

Damn him and his sexy words that should scare me off but only seem to turn me on. This is not what I need to feel right before I go to sleep. As soon as I throw on my t-shirt, I walk over to my bed, look down at it, then over to the window.

What’s the point of even trying tonight? I know I’m going to end up in his bed. I keep telling myself it’s only because I’m afraid. That there’s no other reason my body keeps pulling me in there every night.

I take small, quiet steps out of my bedroom into the hallway. Tonight he left his bedroom door wide open, like he knew I was coming. It feels like an open invitation even though he’s pissed at me right now. I follow the same path I have for the past couple of nights, then pull back the covers.

Once I’m under, I close my eyes, but his angry words have my body reeling, wanting more of them—wanting more of him.

He hasn’t said anything to me which is getting under my skin. Is he mad at me for flirting with Ryder? After several minutes of silence, I can’t take it anymore.

“Fine. You’re right,” I confess. “I was flirting with Ryder to make you jealous. Are you happy? I admit it. I’ve been so worked up lately. No release of mine seems to satisfy me. You walk around here like Jekyll and Hyde, making me feel all—ugh whatever—then storm away.”

I hear the shuffling of sheets and look over. Eric is now resting on his side looking over at me.

“How do I make you feel, Mia?” he asks, voice deep with gravel.

“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper.

I don’t know why he is focusing on that part when I’m admitting that I tried to make him jealous.

“Tell me how I make you feel,” he demands.

I swallow. He sounds angry and it just makes me feel more aroused. “You make me feel…,” I struggle to find the words, ‘“hot.”

“Go on. Tell me more.”

I take a deep breath. “You make my body feel like all the blood is rushing down...”

“Down where?” he asks on a whisper.

“You know where,” I respond.

“I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it.”

“My…,” my voice lowers to a soft whisper, “pussy.”

He groans then scoots closer to me. “Do I make your pussy wet, Mia?”

I can’t help but look into his deep blue eyes and nod my head up and down.

“Fuck,” he utters with frustration. Then I feel the warmth of his fingers on my inner thigh. I gasp at the sensation it evokes. “Maybe,” he says as his fingers slide up my thigh then back down, making my underwear soak with excitement. “Maybe here in the darkness, it doesn’t count. If I lick this sweet pussy of yours, giving you some relief, we pretend like it never happened in the morning.”

Right now, I’d agree to be his slave in excuse for his mouth on me. I can almost feel the hint of an orgasm starting just by the thought of it. That’s how primed he has me from just his words.

“Do you want me to taste your pussy, Mia?” he asks while his fingers move higher up my thigh.

“Yes,” I manage to whisper. “Please.”

“Just for tonight. Just here in the darkness where it doesn’t count. Right?” he says with a plea.

It really seems to matter to him that this be considered nothing, whatever that means. That’s fine. I’m in no emotional state at the moment to need a complicated long-distance relationship.

“Yes. Just for tonight,” I agree.

I barely get the words out before his mouth is on mine. My lips open instantly and our tongues swirl together. His hands work to rid me of my t-shirt before he rolls in between my legs.

“Fuck,” he winces.

“What? Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine. My arm just hurts a little when I put my weight on it.”

I try to sit up, but he pushes me down. “Eric, I don’t want you to hurt your arm.”

“I don’t give a fuck about my arm. I can deal with the pain. What I can’t deal with is not getting a taste of your pussy when you just admitted to me how wet I make you. Tell me, Mia…are you wet right now?”

His hands grab my breasts and start to massage them as his eyes remain on mine. I can’t think enough to respond, and he doesn’t seem to care. He keeps playing with my breasts and squeezes each nipple between his finger and thumb.

He kisses the top of my stomach and starts to make his way down past my belly button all while still playing with my nipples. “Your breasts are fucking perfect.”

His mouth continues until it reaches just above my clit, where he gives a featherlike kiss just centimeters above where I need it.

“Eric,” I pant as my body squirms beneath him.

His hands move from my breasts then slide underneath me on the bed and grip my ass. “And this ass. You fucking teased me with it in your bathing suit the other night. I didn’t know whether to spank you or cover you up.”

I let out a moan just thinking about the idea of him spanking me.

He starts to knead my ass. “Do you like the idea of that, Mia? You want me to punish you for teasing me?”

“I never thought I would, but with you—you make it all sound so sexy. It’s like your anger just turns me on and makes me—curious.”

“Fuck, Mia. Don’t say things like that to me. This is only for tonight. Just one taste.”

With that, his tongue comes out and ever so gently swipes across my clit. My hips buck up, but his hands grab them and push me back down into place as his tongue moves faster and harder.

His lips press against my skin while his tongue dives deep into my pussy then moves back up to circle my clit. His face is buried in me, and I can barely breathe from the sensations it evokes.

“Shit!” I scream as he begins to suck my clit.

“Mmmm,” he moans into my sex. “You like that baby? You want me to suck on that clit some more?”

I don’t answer. I can’t. Not while his mouth ravishes me so perfectly. I close my eyes, basking in the sensations when a hard slap hits my clit.

“Answer me when I fucking talk to you, Mia,” he says, eyes dark with lust.

“Yes!” I scream. “Yes, I like it when you suck my clit. So much. It’s so fucking good.”

“Good girl,” he growls then slams his mouth back on my pussy.

Never would I think that would be something that turns me on, but oh my god! How do I tell him that I want him to do that again? I think I want it harder next time. I want him to spank me. Oh my god, I want him to fucking lose control on me.

No one has ever eaten me with such visceral desire. It feels like this is the one thing he’s wanted his entire life and is finally getting. It’s overwhelming.

His final groan onto my clit does me in. I come on a scream as my fingers clutch the sheets below me, desperately trying to hang onto this world, afraid I’m being transported to another universe with my earth-shattering orgasm.

When he pulls away, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as a tortured look crosses his face. Before I can even offer to return the favor, he gets out of bed and walks into his bathroom. Not even a minute later, I hear a groan come from the bathroom.

I don’t know how to take it that he didn’t want me to touch him. But I can feel that his wall is back up when he comes back into bed, so I don’t press him on it. I turn to face the window, knowing it’ll be impossible to calm my racing thoughts and get to sleep.