Dear Lord. This did not sound like a good escape plan.
In fact, it sounded like a terrible, amateur escape plan that Eddie would total y figure out.
I heard Eddie walk back in the room.
I looked at the time on the DVD player. It was just after nine.
“Do you understand?” Indy asked.
“Yep,” I said.
“Ten o’clock, bedroom window. See you then.”
“Sure,” I said.
She disconnected, I flipped the phone shut and put it on the coffee table.
“Everything okay?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah,” I lied, trying not to hyperventilate.
“You sure?” Eddie was standing by the couch.
I looked up and gave him a bright, false smile.
“Sure I’m sure,” I lied again.
He took one look at my face, his brows drew together and I was pretty certain he was going to tel me I was ful of shit again.
I needed a reason to be in the bedroom in less than an hour.
I’d always been a good girl, I’d never been grounded, I’d never had a reason to be sneaky. I wasn’t out of practice, I’d never been in practice.
I stood up and did the best I could.
“I’m going to bed,” I announced.
Eddie looked toward the bedroom, then back to me, then his eyes narrowed under his drawn brows.
“‘Night,” I said and walked right by him into the bedroom.
I yanked my pajamas out of my bag. They had a stretchy, peach eyelet camisole and lightweight cotton drawstring pants. They were cute. I bought them for myself for Christmas last year but hardly ever wore them. I figured they were thin enough, I could put my clothes back on over them in a flash.
I was focusing on my pajamas and practicing deep breathing when Eddie walked in.
I headed to the bathroom.
“You don’t have to come to bed, you can finish watching the game,” I told him, making to walk by him but he grabbed my pajamas and threw them so they landed on my bag.
I stopped and watched them fal .
“I was going to put those on,” I said.
His arms slid around me, his face was closed and he was watching me.
was watching me.
I held my breath.
Final y, he said, “Bed sounds good.”
Damn.
He walked me backwards, his hands coming under my tshirt and then up and then it was gone.
Hmm, this didn’t seem to be going to plan. If I couldn’t pul off the first part of it, how was I going to manage the last?
I threw a shot out in the dark, “Eddie, I’m tired.
Exhausted. Long nights, you know?”
He pul ed his tee off and threw it in the direction of mine.
I sucked in breath.
He had a great chest, what could I say?
“Don’t worry, Chiquita, I’l do al the work.” Eek!
He undid the belt at my jeans and shoved me back so I fel on the bed. It was gentle but it was also macho and I felt my heart begin to pound as my doo-da quivered.
His hands went to his belt, I heard the clink as it came undone and he began to work on the buttons of his jeans. I rol ed and started to crawl across the bed.
“I’ve changed my mind, I think I want to see the end of the game,” I lied, beginning to panic.
“Hang on there, Chiquita,” he said and caught my calves and pul ed me back, whipping me over. Then, before I could protest, he was on me, his mouth on mine and Al y, Indy, Daisy and our plans for the evening flew right out of my head.
He unzipped my jeans, stil kissing me and his hand went inside, between my legs. I pressed against him and slid my hands into his jeans at the back, holding on to his world-class behind. He had the best behind, or, at least, the best I’d ever had.
His fingers pushed in deeper, I bucked against his hand, breathing heavy against his mouth and, al of a sudden, his finger slid inside me.
The oxygen started burning in my lungs.
“Dear Lord,” I breathed, my lips against his.
“You wanna tel me what’s goin’ on tonight?” he asked.
My eyes were closed. At his question, they flew open and I looked in his. They were liquid but they were determined and I knew he’d total y figured me out.
Shit and damn.
I told the truth.
“No.”
His finger moved. It felt nice.
I bit my lip.
“I need to cuff you to the bed?” he asked.
“No,” I whispered, though he probably did.
His finger moved out and then back in. That felt so nice it was off the scales nice.
“You and Indy plannin’ on doing something stupid?” I pressed my face into his neck and touched my tongue there, partial y to buy time but mainly because I wanted to.
I stuck with honesty, I was too turned on to try anything else.
“Maybe,” I said.
His finger went away but only to go and do a swirl somewhere better.
“Am I gonna be able to talk you out of it?” he asked.
One of my hands went from his ass to his crotch. He was hard. I took this as a promising sign.
“Probably not.”
The promise didn’t pan out, he pul ed his hips and his hand from me and he started to move away.
Um, no.