Feels like Home (Lake Fisher 2)

“And whose fault is that?” I ask. “Wasn’t me who wanted to wait.” I toss another ball, and it goes into a high point slot. I raise my arms to cheer.

He stares at me, pure heat in his gaze. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

My stomach drops straight down toward my toes, and my heart starts to race. “Well, dude, you’re going to have to wait until I knock you off that leader board.”

“Better make it quick,” he warns.

I roll my ball, but it bounces wrong right at the last. “Dang it,” I say.

“Hey, Bess,” he says softly. “You want to get out of here and go somewhere and make out?”

“In a minute,” I reply tersely, trying to concentrate on my shot, but all I can think about is the way he’s looking at me, the way his body tenses up, and the way he makes me feel. I roll the ball. It shoots into the highest point slot. That’s more like it.

“You better make it quick, Bess,” he warns again.

I roll another ball, but my hands are shaking so badly that it falls into the discard tray. “Shit,” I say, and I pick up another ball. I roll it, and it goes into the highest score spot. It still won’t be enough. But I pick up the next ball anyway.

“Bess,” Eli says, his gaze pure heat. My knees go weak when I look at him.

Mr. Jacobson stalks over, slaps an out-of-order sign on the machine, and unplugs it. “You could cut the sexual tension in here with a knife,” he says. “You’re welcome,” he says to Eli, who crows out a laugh, his head falling back as the loud noise bursts from his throat.

“Hey!” I object. “That’s not fair!”

Eli walks over to me, bends at the waist, gently sticks his shoulder in my stomach, and lifts me up. I beat on his back, but he just laughs and walks toward the door. I hear clapping and cat-calling from behind us, and Sam runs up to take my camera from around my neck. There’s no telling the expression on my face as she quickly snaps a shot of me and Eli in full caveman mode.

“Have fun, Bess!” Aaron calls.

“Where are they going?” Kerry-Anne asks, and Aaron replies, “They must have forgotten something at the cabin.”

“Are they coming back?”

“Not if he’s any good at finding what they lost,” Aaron says, and he winks at me as we walk out the door. I shoot him the bird, which makes him and everyone else laugh.

“Put me down, Eli,” I demand as Eli stomps toward our cabin. A gentle rain has started to fall, but I can’t even feel it. I bob there over his shoulder like I have no will of my own, but to be honest I don’t want to have any will of my own. I want Eli to want me as desperately as I want him—and apparently he does.

“This was easier when I was in better shape,” Eli says with a grunt.

“Are you calling me fat?”

He sputters. “No, of course not. Do I look stupid? I was calling myself out of shape, which I am.”

He walks up the steps and into the house and goes straight to the bedroom. He wastes no time in throwing me onto the bed, where I bounce a c

ouple of times. He reaches for the elastic of my shorts, then he pulls both my shorts and panties off in one move.

“Eli,” I protest, kicking my feet at him, but I’m laughing at the same time. He sits me up so he can pull my shirt over my head, and then my bra follows, landing on top of my face. I brush it to the side and stare up at him.

He stands at the side of the bed while I look up at him, suddenly completely naked. “Eli, this is crazy,” I say as I start to sit up. But suddenly he’s naked too and he’s on top of me.

“Shh,” he says as he pushes my knees apart and his head dives down toward my curls.

“Eli,” I say again. I push his shoulder, but he’s determined. My defiance weakens. “Oh, that feels nice,” I breathe out as his tongue laps at my slit. He’s been there before, many, many times, and he explores it like a man who knows the terrain. “You don’t have to do that, Eli,” I say as I tug gently as his hair.

He looks up at me. “It has been a long time since I’ve been down here, so be quiet and let me do my work.”

I relax against the pillows. He has always been good at this, ever since we first met. What he didn’t know how to do initially, he learned to do as time went on, and then he became a master at it.

He latches onto my clit and gives it a suck, and my hands reflexively bunch in the covers. He grabs my hand and moves it to his shoulder. “Touch me, please,” he says, his voice betraying his need. I run my hand through his hair as he brings me higher and higher, and my grip turns frantic as he gets me close.