Page 68 of Tears of Glass

I’d say. The dust is about two inches thick.

I shake my head a little trying to make sense of it all. “Firstly, who is Pops? And secondly, you own a house in Carcassonne?”

He smiles slowly and grasps my hand as he leads us further into the derelict building. “Pops was married to Gran—”

“Jeez, was he nagged to death?”

“No. Very funny.”

It’s not that funny. Elijah and I have been officially back together twenty-four hours and I haven’t yet told him I never plan on seeing a single family member, excluding Tabitha, ever again.

“And yes, I do own the house, but as you can see, I’ve never done anything with it.” He shrugs like owning a three-storey townhouse in the middle of a French walled city is nothing. Maybe it isn’t to him. “I tend to stay at the Best Western, the service is better there.” He grins, and my insides turn to goo.

“So you have this sitting here?” I leave his side and go to peek about the downstairs. It’s all faded glamour and dust. Large drapes hang from the windows but it’s hard to tell what colour they might have been. The shutters don’t look like they’ve been opened this decade. “It’s extraordinary.” I turn to find him watching me, and the inscrutable expression on his face. “What?”

He gives me a slow smile as he paces towards me. His intent is clear, his eyes determined as he stalks forward. My legs wobble a little under the intensity of his gaze. He tugs me forward, catching me into his embrace. His eyes meet mine with their incessant hunger as his tongue probes into my mouth, dancing and teasing. I sigh a little and relinquish control to his demanding lips. His hands run down my clothes, burning through the thin cotton. My trousers are already undone at the button and he pushes at the zip, his other hand edging down the waistband.

“Eli,” I gasp, my breath starting to come in small pants. His fingers slip into my knickers, running between my lips, already slick with excitement. When he feels my response, his kiss becomes harder and his fingers drive inside me. “We are in the middle of the hallway.” My words are really nothing more than a gasp. My eyes are shut, but I open them slightly and spot the door is still open from when we walked in. The street is right there. “Elijah.”

He doesn’t stop though and part of me doesn’t want him to. His fingers are heavenly, stroking and diving within the confines of my knickers. He gives me one long hard kiss, his tongue firm until he breaks the kiss. His other hand is in my ponytail, tilting my head to his. He’s totally in control of the moment. I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to as his hands work me as only he knows how.

When he kisses down my neck and along my collarbone I whimper, my hips pushing against his fingers. He drops to his knees, his free hand lifting my shirt, his lips kissing my stomach until he edges the elastic of my underwear out of the way and his mouth trails downwards.

On his knees, he buries his face between my legs, his mouth wrapping around my clit and sucking gently. His teeth give a gentle bite and I shiver uncontrollably. My eyes are open and staring at the door stood ajar, but I don’t care. I want his tongue inside me, deep and firm. I spread my legs a little to give him better access as he sucks and licks, and my hips buck and my legs tremble. Shit. Every nibble and tug on my bud sends a shooting wave of pleasurable pain through me. His hands cup my buttocks and hold me forward and I run my hands through his hair, holding his face close. I’m wobbling and cusping the edge of a thunderous orgasm; it’s tingling all along my legs, pulsing for release. I climb higher and higher, my moans echoing around the bare walls. He sucks long and hard and I wince as it shoots pain and delight into the pit of my stomach. His hands graze around my buttocks and as he lifts me with one hand so I’m almost sitting on his face, his other hand slips through my crack, his little finger heading for the secret bud hidden there. My orgasm thunders as he slips his finger inside the tight puckered space and I scream his name and ride it out onto his teeth and tongue.

I’m still shuddering as he pulls my knickers up and places a gentle kiss on my tummy. Then he straightens with a grin as he takes in the shaking, dishevelled mess I’ve become.

“Yes, I have this house just sat here.” He takes my hand and continues with the tour like he didn’t just give me the orgasm of a lifetime thirty seconds ago. “But I’ve got some ideas I want to discuss with you.”

I can’t speak. I’m dazed and confused and weak, still shivering with aftershocks, and he’s pointing out where the kitchen is.

This guy is beyond belief. With the door still open, we head up the stairs. Clearly, he’s not worried about crime—although let’s be honest the house doesn’t have a lot to nick, unless you want to run off with the floorboards.

Upstairs is just like downstairs, bare floorboards which have seen better days. Wallpaper is peeling from the walls and in many of the rooms the plasterwork has crumbled to expose the bare bricks behind. I lean down closer to investigate some mouse droppings.

There isn’t a single thing about this place I don’t love. Even the rodent poop. “Eli.” I turn to him grinning. “I love this place. How come you have never done anything with it?”

He smiles slowly, and it makes that little kindle of fire in the pit of my belly spark to life. Jeez, he’s just devoured me downstairs, but I could easily do that again. The longing pulses through my limbs, making them heavy and ungainly and on the verge of painful. “I’ve been a little busy.”

“Being a hot shot lawyer?”

He scrubs a hand down his face and I notice again how tired he looks. Maybe it’s the simple fact that in a house that’s bare and derelict, with nothing to detract from his beautiful face, I’m really noticing it for what it is.

“Do I even want to know the hours you’ve been working the last few weeks?”

He shrugs and takes a step closer. “Quite possibly not.”

“Tell me.”

His hands snake around my waist, tugging me flush with his chest. Someone get me a fire extinguisher. “So you like this place?” He’s changing the subject, but my mind is muddled and my train of thought evaporates.

“Yes.” I nod and stare up into his eyes. “I think it’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”

His smile is breathtaking. “Good. Because I’ve offered it for use for the filming of the art show.”

“What?” Is he for real? “I thought you were just a backer?”

“Maybe I’m thinking of a change of career.”