Chapter Nine
Bodie was nervous as he showed her around the converted warehouse he called home. Not that there was a whole lot to show. It was mostly just a big empty area with two spare bedrooms at the far end of the space separated by a bathroom. The decorator he’d hired to outfit the place had used furniture to block off zones.
Couches, a coffee table and a long, sleek unit for the television denoted the living area. A heavy mahogany table with matching high back chairs, the dining area. The long black marble kitchen bench, stools on one side, delineated the kitchen.
He wanted Eleanor to like where she was living, but seeing it through her eyes he wasn’t so sure she would. His teammates loved it, but Eleanor was a woman. A woman into flouncy dresses, pretty colours, tactile fabrics—satin, ribbons, lace—frilly Victorian lingerie. She liked froth and this place was whatever the hell was the opposite of that.
It was the anti-froth.
Hell, it looked like it could have been an eighteenth-century sweat shop in a past life. His plans to find a home for them fermented in his brain a little more.
“You want a drink?” he asked as she ran her hands hypnotically over the sleek marble top of the kitchen bench.
“What have you got?”
Bodie opened the sleek black door of the fridge. Crap. Beer and more beer. No wine. Not that she could drink that. No soft drink either. In fact, there wasn’t even much food.
“Umm…” He glanced at her over his shoulder and grimaced. “Water?”
She was wearing jeans and a deep green corset style shirt that sat like a T-shirt on her back and arms and hips, but the front panel was green satin with black ribbon lacing that had been pulled taut and tempting across her breasts.
It was distracting as fuck.
He’d wanted to unlace the damn thing from the second he’d laid eyes on her. She may not have stuck to the pantaloons promise but he’d stuck to his. His erection had been so swift and powerful he’d almost blacked out in that bloody foyer.
She smiled and shook her head, her wild, tangly hair barely contained in the big plastic claw at the back of her head.
“Water’s fine. Looks like I might need to do some grocery shopping tomorrow, though.”
Bodie pulled a beer out of the fridge. “Yeah, sorry about that, I usually just get some kind of delivery.” He twisted the top off his beer and set it on the counter before grabbing a glass out of a high cupboard and placing it under the chilled water dispenser on the door of the fridge.
“I thought you guys were supposed to eat healthy.”
He handed her the glass then a clipboard with what appeared to be an extensive menu on it. “It’s proper gourmet stuff. Delivered to my door.” He put his hand on his heart. “Only the best.”
She scanned the menu. “Hmm. Maybe I won’t go shopping tomorrow.”
Bodie shrugged. “Fine by me.” He took a swig of his beer. It was cool and bitter, just the way he liked it. Nothing like a cold beer after a gruelling workout. And it gave him something to do with his hands other than pulling the tie on the lacing that crisscrossed her cleavage.
“That’s one of the best things about a city.” She sighed as she placed the clipboard down and took a sip of her water. “No gourmet restaurants out our way. And even if there were, they wouldn’t deliver out to the property. It’d be cold by the time it got there anyway.”
He studied her over the rim of his beer bottle. Was he imagining that wistful lilt to her tone? Was she missing home already? “What did your parents say?”
Her gaze flicked to his for a moment and held for a beat or two before glancing away, her face bathed in light from the windows as she stared out.
“Eleanor?”
She glanced at him. “I didn’t tell them.”
Bodie frowned, placing the bottle on the bench top with a light tink. “Where do they think you are now?”
“With my friend Miriam who lives in Wollongong.”
A skitter of unease crawled through Bodie’s veins. “Okay.”
“I will tell them. I just…”
Bodie nodded. “You’re just hedging your bets?”
She was seeing how it worked out for a couple of weeks before she said anything. He couldn’t blame her for it, but it bugged him nonetheless.
“No.”
“Okay, then what? You think they’ll be mad?” he asked. “That they’ll come down here and drag you home?”
She laughed. “Hardly. They’re my parents, not my jailers. I’m twenty-six. I can come and go as I please. Stay with whomever I want.”
“And have you ever abruptly changed your plans before?”
“Well…no.”
“And how’d they take that?”
“They were…surprised. But I wasn’t asking their permission, Bodie. I was just informing them I wasn’t going to be home as planned.”
“Because you were staying with your friend. Miriam.”
“Well…I actually told them that I was going to stay on with a friend, and they assumed it was Miriam and I…”
“Didn’t disabuse them of the notion.”
“No.”
“Eleanor.” Bodie shook his head. “I can’t go to training every morning and see Ryder and not tell him you’re staying with me. He’s going to be pissed enough at me for sleeping with you, he’s probably going to kill me for getting you pregnant. I can’t compound all that by acting like you’re not in bed with me every night. I don’t want to lie to him like that.”
“I’m sorry. I know it puts you in an awkward position.”
She slid her hand along the bench top toward him. It didn’t reach, so Bodie met her halfway, their fingers twining.
“I will tell them.” She beseeched him with her eyes, and there was something in them that Bodie knew was going to suck him right into whatever she was selling. “I just… Can I have a few days to wrap my head around it first?”
It didn’t seem an unreasonable request. It wouldn’t have been, had Bodie not known Ryder. But he did. And this had the potential for biting him on the ass. “Eleanor…”
“I’ll tell them on the weekend.” She moved her hand from his and slid off her stool, walking around to his side of the bench and sidling up to him, her body almost touching his. “Please?”
She leaned into him, rising on her tiptoes, sliding her arms around his neck, and Bodie’s senses filled with the familiar orange blossom scent of her as he filled his palms with her ass.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Davis?”
She buzzed her mouth against his and whispered, “I don’t know, I haven’t done it before. How am I doing?”
Bodie groaned in appreciation at the torturous brush of her lips and the saucy tease of her words. “Not bad.” The fact that he was providing so many of her firsts was full-on caveman, beating-his-chest, dragging-his-knuckles satisfying.
He opened his mouth, capturing hers, eradicating the torturous playful brush, spinning it into a deep, slow exploration that had his heart pounding and his dick hard in seconds. The low hum of her approval buzzed to his groin in one hot lick.
She pulled out of the kiss, and he liked that he could put that expression on her face. Her gaze not quite focused. Her mouth wet and crushed. “Why haven’t you shown me your bedroom yet?”
“I was trying to be a gentleman.”
She smiled in a sexily unfocused way, and it grabbed him by the balls. “I thought we’d already established you weren’t a gentleman.”
Bodie remembered his starring performance in Bodie Jerks Off for Eleanor. “Oh yeah, that’s right.” He grinned as his cock got harder. “Well, maybe I was just trying to be on my best behaviour for your first day? Show you my impeccable manners.”
“And what if I told you I had a little surprise for you that’s going to make you forget your own name, let alone the quaint notion of manners?”
Bodie had no idea what that might be. But his dick turned to granite at the possibilities, and he sure as fuck wanted to find out. He kissed her hard and fast, grabbed her hand, and yanked. “Let’s go.”
She laughed as he half ushered, half dragged her along behind him, pushing her in front of him as they hit the stairs, his pulse leaping as she took them two at a time. He stayed right on her ass.
“So this is the bedroom.” He gestured with his hand, surprisingly out of breath for a man who regularly ran over ten kilometres a day. Not that his state of breathlessness had anything to do with the short bolt across his apartment.
“I chose this corner because the fixtures—”
“Fixtures blah, blah, blah,” she muttered, cutting him off as she spun in his arms and plastered herself against him, her mouth seeking his, moaning as they met.
Bodie groaned, his hands ploughing into the thick tangle of her hair to steady them as he bent to her, kissing her hard, his hands finding her ass again, his heart beating like a drum in his chest.
“I missed you,” he murmured, breaking off to slide kisses to her ear then down her neck as he toed off his shoes.
It had been an exercise in self control not to call on her every night these past few days. To knock on her hotel door and ask her to let him in. Beg if he had to. Promise her whatever she wanted for a night in her arms.
Lying in his bed these past couple of months thinking she was twelve-hundred kilometres away had put a mental lock on his cravings. Knowing she was a fifteen-minute drive from him? That had been agony.
Her hands tunnelled under his shirt, dragging it up, and he helped her pull it over his head. “God…” She laid her hands flat on his pecs before smoothing them down to his abs, causing a rapid chain reaction in the muscles below the flesh. “If I was a poet, I’d write an ode to your chest.”
Bodie chuckled, his attention firmly fixed on her chest. “How does this thing come undone?”
“Bow. At the bottom.”
Wild horses couldn’t have stopped Bodie from yanking it. The lacing, already under strain from the pressure of her breasts, loosened and widened in the blink of an eye, the tightness unravelling like the pop of a champagne cork, and in a flash she’d whipped it up and off.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her gorgeous full breasts swung soft and free. The pale pink nipples hardened before his eyes.
“Holy. Fuck. I’m never going to get tired of that sight.”
He ducked his head, his mouth already coated in saliva as it landed on the right nipple. She cried out and he dragged his tongue over it back and forth, back and forth, revelling in how she arched into him and dug her nails into his back.
His little hell-cat.
Bodie released his mouthful to the air, leaning back to admire his handiwork, the engorged nipple blushed more brown than pink now. Red marks where his whiskers had scraped the flesh of her breast should have horrified him, but it filled his beating heart with a primal roar of possession.
“I like marking you.”
Her nostrils flared at his admission, her whiskey eyes glowing almost feral. Oh yeah. She liked it, too.
She launched herself at him, her breasts squashed against him, the hard points of her nipples pressing into the wall of his chest as she yanked on his neck and kissed him. Bodie took what she gave him and demanded more, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth, chasing every whimper, driving deeper, wanting more.
Suddenly, her hands were pushing into the waist band of his shorts, taking his underwear with them, pushing them down off his hips and thighs and he was helping, wriggling his legs as he kissed her and somehow between the two of them they were off and he was naked and she was pushing him backward toward his bed. The mattress was suddenly behind his knees and then his ass was on the bed and she was standing between his legs topless, her skin so pale, looking down at him, her eyes superglued to his cock like it was a particularly exotic ingredient and she was deciding how to cook it.
It twitched at her intense scrutiny, his balls tightened. His gaze dropped to her jeans, wondering how come he was naked and she wasn’t.
What the fuck had he been doing all this time?
“Is your surprise under there?” He pointed at the zipper.
After long, satisfying seconds, she dragged her eyes off what lay between his legs. The woman was good for his ego. “It could be.”
He tutted. “Did you get a Brazilian, Miss Davis?” He’d laughed when she’d gone on about not being vagazzled enough for a guy like him but obviously she’d been worried about it.
Her Mona Lisa smile clashed with the wild flush of her cheeks. He loved how easily she embarrassed. “I might have.”
“Well come on, woman.” He raised himself up on his elbows. “Do I get to see it or not?” Her blush deepened and she dropped her gaze. He lowered his voice an octave. “Take them off, Eleanor.”
She lifted her eyes to meet his, took a calming breath, and reached for her zip, pulling the tab slowly down. He felt every tooth of the zip slip free from its hold like an electric shock to his balls. By the time she was wriggling her hips and pushing her jeans off her legs they ached like crazy.
She straightened, her breasts swaying with the movement, her hands crossed in front of herself like she’d done in Bungindally. “Let me see.”
Slowly, she dropped her hands.
Bodie’s breath escaped in a rush as his gaze zeroed in on the apex of her thighs. He hadn’t expected to see complete smoothness. Maybe some kind of landing strip left behind. He’d been with a woman once who’d had her pubic hair trimmed into the shape of a heart and dyed hot pink.
But he did not expect to see what was there. He didn’t expect sparkle. A provocative message just for him.
In silver and blue diamantes—or whatever the hell it was they used in nether regions for a little bit of pizzazz—the words, Ruck Me, stood out in thick capitals like a flashing neon sign against the smooth baldness of her mons.
If he hadn’t already been hard enough to crack nuts he would be now. Slowly, he levered himself into an upright position, his hands sliding onto his thighs.
So that was vagazzling.
“You like?”
He lifted his gaze, her face a fiery red now, her expression one of tortured insecurity. “Like?” That was far too bland a description for the riot going on inside his testicles right now. “Honey, I think I just came.”
She smiled, the line of her shoulders relaxing, her breasts swaying with the motion. “It’s…shiny,” she said, almost apologetically, her voice unsteady.
And not from embarrassment. From arousal. She was as turned on as him.
Bodie laughed. “Like a disco ball.” He lowered his eyes to the words again, staring at her, marvelling at her. “Not very Victorian.”
She gave a soft snort. “Only because they didn’t think of it first. They were a pretty depraved bunch.”
“I know.” He dragged his gaze up her body. “I’ve seen some of their pornography.”
“Really?” She quirked an eyebrow.
He waved a dismissive hand. “Long story.” He crooked his finger. “Come here. I want a closer look.”
She took the two steps required to put her back between his knees which brought him eye level with her sparkly new surprise. His nostrils flared as they filled with the citrusy scent of her skin and the wild musky aroma of aroused woman.
“So…is that meant as an instruction?”
She shook her head. “It’s an order.”
Bodie grinned, sliding his hands onto her hips and jerking them closer. “Yes ma’am.” And he leaned forward.
“Oh no no no.” She pushed hard against his shoulders, and Bodie growled in frustration as he looked at her.
“It’s my turn to do that.”
She planted a hand in the centre of his chest and gave him a shove. He collapsed back onto the mattress, his cock straining against the flat surface of his belly as she looked at it once again like she was preparing to devour it.
She planted a knee on the mattress between his legs. “Shuffle back.”
Bodie shuffled back, his eyes glued to the sway of her breasts and the sexy as fuck wink of shiny jewels between her legs as she followed him up the bed on all fours. He stopped when his head hit the pillow. So did she, settling on her haunches between his legs.
“Do you mind if I just…” His quads jumped as her hands smoothed over them. Her gaze locked onto his dick. His balls tightened and pulled a little higher. “Play a little.”
Bodie shook his head. If she wanted to get up and personal with his anatomy, he wasn’t going to object. “Be my guest.”
Her finger, cool as ice and twice as smooth, landed on the hypersensitive tissue where the thick bulb of his head met his shaft. She ran it from the tip all the way down to the root and Bodie bit back a groan.
“I want to give you a…” She stopped and the muscles in Bodie’s ass contracted. “Perform oral sex on you.”
Oh Christ. His dick bucked and she hadn’t even touched it this time. Her primness was way more of a turn on than it should be. “You can say blow job. I won’t tell anyone.”
She blushed but said it anyway. “Blow job.” She blushed some more. “But I don’t want to screw it up.”
Bodie laughed, which cut out abruptly as two fingers stroked down his length. “I don’t think there’s any way you could screw up a blow job, unless you bite it.”
She laughed. “No biting. Check. But…do I swallow or not? What do you think?”
Bodie’s eyes almost rolled back in his head as her fingers curled around his cock and slid up and down, taking their damn time exploring the length of him. He fisted his hands into the sheets. “I think you should never ask a guy that question. They’re always going to want you to swallow.”
“My sister Lisa says sperm tastes disgusting. That she almost considered switching teams the first and only time she tried it.”
“Well…yeah.” He shut his eyes and panted against the urge to thrust into her hand as her thumb rubbed maddeningly across the head. His heart banged hard against his ribs, his skin was hot enough to fall from his bones. “I gotta admit, I wouldn’t like to swallow it.”
“But I feel like I should at least try it. Make up my own mind. I mean you…did it to me. Which was…well…let’s just say I am very grateful that you did, but…” She shook her head. “I really wouldn’t do that if I was a guy.”
Bodie managed to prise his eyes open as her hand slid up and down. “I loved it. I’ve dreamed about going down on you just about every night since.” Her pace faltered and her gorgeous lips parted and he wanted them on him so fucking bad.
“You were very good at it…I think.”
He sucked in a ragged breath, the sway of her breasts more mesmerizing than a Victorian hypnotist’s watch. “I’ve never had any complaints.” The fact that he’d been the only man to ever put his mouth to her pounded like an anthem through his veins.
“That’s what I mean. I don’t bring the same level of expertise to this that you did. My technique—”
“Eleanor.”
Bodie wouldn’t have normally interrupted any woman with her hand on his cock, but his body was pulled taut from the strain of keeping himself in check. He’d never worried about premature ejaculation before but between the swing of her gorgeous tits, the vagazzling, and the somehow incredibly sexy clinical discussion about blow jobs, his balls were so primed she could probably just whistle for him to come and he would.
“You should just suck it already.” His voice sounded as if it had rumbled up from the centre of the earth. “I don’t care about your technique or whether you swallow or not. You can pull off, you can spit it out. I really don’t care. Just please, if you could put it in your mouth now… You’re killing me.”
She bent then, so swift and sure, her hot mouth sliding over him, and Bodie’s hips jerked off the bed. “Fuuuck.”
Her tongue swirled around and around his head and he groaned, his eyes shutting as he sunk his hands into her hair. The hot slide of her mouth, all the way down his shaft as far as she could go, and the firm suction as she withdrew, popped stars behind his eyes.
Every glide on and off was perfect. She was perfect. “Jesus, that’s good.”
She hummed her satisfaction against his head as she withdrew, and the sound vibrated down his shaft and sizzled through his balls. “Should I…suck your testicles?”
Bodie angled his head off the pillow, his gaze meeting hers. He was excruciatingly aware of the wet state of her mouth as it hovered just above the wet state of cock. Her hesitant request slipping from lips that had been gorging on him a second ago was like a nuclear charge to his groin.
“Christ yes. You should definitely suck my testicles.”
And then her hot mouth was on his balls sucking them both into the cavern of her mouth. He groaned, his head flopping back against the pillow, his hands sliding from her hair as he lost all muscle control. She rolled them in her hand and laved them with her tongue, tripping every pleasure sensor he possessed.
His heart hammered way beyond his healthy cardio range as she played between his legs until he didn’t think he could take it anymore. Just when he thought his heart might burst through his chest, she stopped. His balls slid from the wet heat of her mouth as her tongue and lips slid hot and urgent down his shaft again, her nails pressing into the flesh covering the hard bones of his hips.
They bucked in her hold. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop them as her mouth enveloped him. But it only seemed to embolden her and the noises she made at the back of her throat as she took him deeper and deeper sunk hot talons into his balls.
“Eleanor…Jesus.” He was going to come. He had to warn her. “Eleanor…” He lost his train of thought, gripping hold of his sanity to try again. “I’m about two seconds from coming.” His chest heaved and his breath felt like wet sand in his lungs. “If you want off, it better be now.”
But she didn’t pull off, she didn’t stop, she just dug her fingers harder into his hips and moaned. The noise shot down his shaft and vibrated through his balls and pushed him over the edge.
He came—loud—his hands fisting in the sheets as his hips thrust again, pumping deep in the back of her throat and holding there as he spilled his load. The triumph of her moan, the cut of her fingernails, were all lost in the hot greedy suck of her mouth and the undulation of her throat.
He shut his eyes as the hard edge of bliss took him to another dimension, twirled him around, then pushed him out the other side.