I slammed my lips on hers, our tongues tangling the moment her orgasm broke. I swallowed her cry, refusing to let up as her body trembled and shattered. Pulse after pulse, she came apart in my arms until her body sagged against mine.
We shuffled into the shower, our mouths colliding again as soon as we were under the spray. Then I hoisted her up, her mouth fused to mine, her hands coming to my cheeks as she took control of the kiss, letting me press her against the slippery tiled wall.
When I slid inside, burying myself to the root, she wrapped her arms around my neck, holding tight while I fucked her hard, not letting up until we came together in a frenzy of cries and groans.
“No more couch,” I said, my cock still deep inside her.
She pushed her fingers through my wet hair. “Okay.”
I eased out and set her on her feet. While I washed my hair, she dragged a soapy puff across my shoulders and back. Then the two of us moved to the loft, ignoring the mess in the kitchen.
We fucked again, slow and lazy, until we were both spent.
The restless energy was gone. Finally. And even though she fell asleep cuddled into my side, making me too hot and uncomfortable, I crashed, waking only when dawn crept through the windows.
And found Eloise still sleeping against my side.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELOISE
The rows and columns on my spreadsheet were blurring together. The color coding had taken on a life of its own today, and now it looked like a rainbow had puked on the hotel’s shift schedule.
But it was done. Hopefully.
Summer was hard. It had taken me the entire day of shuffling and juggling to iron out the tentative schedule for the summer. Fingers crossed I’d managed to accommodate everyone’s vacation plans. It should work.
Until someone called in sick. Or quit.
“Nobody can quit,” I told my computer screen. At least not until I hired another part-time housekeeper. If I could hire another housekeeper. I’d had an ad in the local newspaper for a week without a single bite.
Worst case, I’d have to clean rooms myself. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time, but I was already working six days a week.
For the first time in my career at The Eloise, I wanted just one day off. One day to spend in bed with Jasper. If we only had two more months together, then I wanted to make the most of it.
Though maybe I was going about this all wrong. Maybe I needed to live and breathe this hotel for the next sixty-ish days. Maybe that would make it easier in the end.
Despite my best intentions to confine our relationship to sex, I was growing attached to Jasper. Everything about him was appealing. From that handsome face to his ripped body. From the way he forced me to eat more vegetables to the way he buried his nose in my hair to inhale its scent.
The nightly orgasms were just a bonus.
Ever since the burnt cookie incident, Jasper and I had settled into a routine. I woke up early each morning and left for work. When I got home in the evening, he’d make us dinner. Then we’d do . . . nothing.
I loved the nothing.
He’d listen to me talk about whatever was happening at the hotel. He’d sit beside me on the couch reading while I flipped on the TV for an hour. Then we’d retreat to the loft where we’d exhaust each other’s bodies to sleep.
The past two weeks had been good. Borderline great.
Except the pressure from my family was starting to crush me. They’d planned that family dinner two weeks ago to meet Jasper, but the moment I’d mentioned it, I could tell he hadn’t wanted to go. So I hadn’t even invited him.
When they’d asked us to last week’s family dinner, I’d lied. I’d told Mom and Dad that Jasper and I were having a date night. Was it a lie if the date just happened to be at the A-frame?
Yes. With every lie and half-truth, the icky feeling in my stomach came crawling back.
Something had to give. I couldn’t keep this up for another two months, not with every Eden within a fifty-mile radius trying to poke their noses into my marriage.
Two of my aunts had stopped by the hotel this week, asking when they were going to get to meet my mysterious husband. I’d bumped into one of my cousins yesterday at the gas station and he’d wanted to hire Jasper as his personal trainer.
Did Jasper even do personal training for anyone but Foster? A wife should know the answer to that question.
I pressed my fingers to my temples, rubbing at the headache caused by the rainbow spreadsheet and lack of caffeine.
I’d spent the past two weeks avoiding Eden Coffee because Lyla was still acting too . . . nice. The coffee at the hotel was okay, but it was nothing like Lyla’s. I missed good coffee. I missed my sister.
The lobby door opened so I tore my eyes away from my screen, smiling and ready to greet my guests. But it was my parents who walked inside, their hands locked.
I loved that my parents held hands. For as long as I could remember, they were always linked when they walked.
Did Jasper hold hands in public? Then again, we didn’t walk together in public.
“Hi.” I braced, steeling my spine and holding my breath.
Mom tried to mask it, but she still looked sad. Disappointed. Dad didn’t even bother to hide the hurt from his blue eyes.
Mom stopped at the counter and frowned. “Don’t look so scared to see us.”
But I was. “That’s not it.” Another lie that made me feel gross, but I forced my frame to relax. “I’ve just got a miserable headache. What’s up?”
“We were hoping to have dinner with you and Jasper tonight at Knuckles,” she said.
“Oh.” My stomach dropped. “Um . . .” Shit. “I’d love to but can we have a rain check?”
“Why?” Dad’s eyes narrowed.
“This headache is killing me. I sort of just want to go home and take a bath. It’s been a long day.”
Mom and Dad shared a look, one I hadn’t seen since high school—since the night I’d come home slightly tipsy and five minutes past curfew. They’d both been waiting up. I’d tried to convince them I was entirely sober.
They hadn’t bought it then, and I’d scored a two-week grounding.
They weren’t buying it now either, were they?
“How about dinner tomorrow night?” I blurted. “I’m not working, and I’m sure I’ll feel better. We could come to the house. Or meet you here in town.”
“The house.” Mom nodded. “We’ll see if everyone else can make it too.”
“Great.” My voice was too bright.
What was worse? Mom and Dad alone at Knuckles, where Dad would no doubt interrogate Jasper? Or at the house with my parents, siblings, nieces and nephews?
The house. Definitely the house. But it was too late. Mom was already rattling off potential dinner options.
“Burgers? Does Jasper like burgers?” she asked.
“Yes, he likes burgers.” Probably. Did he eat red meat? He normally cooked chicken.
Whatever. I’d eat two burgers if necessary.
“We’ll see you then,” Dad said. “Hope your headache goes away.”
“Me too.” I gave them a small smile.
“Oh, before I forget.” Mom held up a finger. “Did you talk to Brittany about swapping Sundays and Tuesdays?”