Not That Kind of Girl (25 page)

In an instant, everything changed. Roxanne felt it, like an electric charge sizzling in the air. Suddenly, Eli looked different. His eyes had darkened. Every trace of awkwardness was gone, replaced by calmness. She saw the knowing gaze, the small tug at the corner of his mouth, the confident way he held his body.

Roxanne blinked in surprise, recalling the last time she saw him like this. Eli had strolled through her front door, dealt with the blood and the chaos, and proceeded to strut through her kitchen, living room, bathroom, bedroom—as if he owned everything in sight! She struggled to remember how he’d described his method …
“I’m taking over, babe. And I need to mark my territory.”

She gulped. Eli was walking toward the bed. She dropped the questionnaire. She pushed herself up on the pillows. She felt her eyes go huge.

In a flash, he hovered over her, big and blond and smiling. He planted his palms on either side of her bare legs, the inside of his wrists pressed against her outer thighs. Then he moved in even closer.

Roxanne felt herself start to pant. In seconds she was shaking.

“Settle down, sweet thing.” The deep velvet baritone was back with a vengeance. “
Ssshhh,
now,” he said. “You’re safe with me.”

Then he put his mouth on her.

Roxie stiffened at his kiss, and stiffened again when she felt his big, hard cock press against her shin. She leaned back into the headboard, suddenly unsure.

Eli ended the kiss. He studied her, nothing but absolute certainty in his expression. “When we met at the Starbucks to talk about Lilith, do you remember what I told you had to happen before we went any further?”

She nodded, her eyes going wider. “You told me I had to trust you.”

Eli brought his mouth so close to hers that when she breathed it was his air she brought into her body. She felt heat transfer from his skin to hers. His erection poked even harder into her leg. “Do you want this, Roxie Bloom? Be honest with yourself and with me.”

She tried to steady her heart. She felt her hands tremble at her sides.

“I will be here and I will feel the same, no matter what you decide.”

Oh, God, that did it—even at the peak of arousal this guy put her welfare first. It was the biggest turn-on she could imagine. Roxie’s entire body began humming with need and she felt the wetness between her legs.

“I want this,” she said.

“Do you trust me?”

She closed her eyes. If she didn’t trust Eli, she might as well give up, for real, not just like the silly pledge of manlessness she’d taken with Bea, Josie, and Ginger last year. She’d already trusted this honorable man with the most important thing in her life—Lilith. And look how far she’d come already. If she couldn’t trust Eli to take equal care with her own body and heart, then she’d never trust any man.

Suddenly, she pictured Raymond and Eli together in her mind’s eye. She nearly laughed at the contrast. Eli Gallagher was as far away from Raymond Sandberg as a man could possibly get. It was as if they weren’t even the same
species
.

She was twenty-nine. How much more of her life was she willing to throw away on anger, on ridiculous Raymond?

Not another second, that’s how much.

Roxanne opened her eyes. She slid her hands up around Eli’s neck and pushed her fingers into his thick hair. “I want you, and I trust you.” Her lips brushed his as she spoke. “I’m ready to be rehabilitated.”

*   *   *

Each of Gloria’s old bones seemed as heavy as lead and as dainty as a single strand of hair. The exhaustion was so deep that it left her unable to think straight, to move, even to feel. It was a blessing to have all her children with her—and her many grandchildren—but truly, she was so tired that the kindest thing they could do for her was to leave her be.

She was hooked up to tubes and wires now. Soon, she’d be in Ira’s arms again. She wondered what love felt like on the other side, where you didn’t have your hands to caress and your lips to kiss. Oh! She prayed that she’d done enough with her time on earth to make a difference.

What had been her favorite things of this life? Her most treasured memories? It was difficult to choose from the abundance of pleasures she’d been privileged to experience.

Of course, her passion for Ira was where she discovered the power of love. He was her first and only romance. There was never another. And it was this union with her beloved that gave her the strength and courage for all that would be required of her.

Then there were those sacred times with her children, especially when they were babies. She recalled one night in particular. It was 1949. Her firstborn was about six months old and had awoken in the middle of the night hungry. The house was dark. The world was silent but for the crickets beneath the nursery window, singing their love songs. Gloria had rocked back and forth, feeding her little one with the riches of her own living body. The moment had struck her as so sacred that the tears had flowed as hard as her milk.

Ira had found her a few minutes later. Her sobs must have woken him from his sleep. He had kneeled at her feet and asked her what was the matter.

“Ira?” she had whispered, barely able to discern his face in the dark. “Have you ever experienced a moment when life was so beautiful you didn’t know if you were strong enough to bear it? Have you ever been humbled by the beauty of being alive?”

He’d nodded his dark head, pulled up the hem of her nightgown and kissed her knee. “I have, my darling,” he’d said to her. “Right now is one of those moments.”

And that, in a nutshell, was why she’d loved Ira Needleman until the day he died.

Then there were the weddings. She remembered every one of them. Every kind of human face imaginable had stood before her. She wouldn’t lie to herself—some of those weddings were shams. Some didn’t last. But for many brides and grooms, the moment they offered their heart to their beloved was a moment of consecration. They were telling the world that they believed in the importance of love.

Among those faces were three of her four children and their spouses. Sadly, Gloria knew the combination of politics and illness would keep her from sharing that moment with Rachel and Bea. But she knew the two of them would figure something out. They were resourceful women.
Oy!
How difficult could it be to catch a plane to Vermont?

“Mother?”

Gloria felt one of her children wrap their warm hand around her own. It was nice, but she needed to sleep.

More faces began to float in and out of her vision, like clouds, like smoke, like a sheer bridal veil billowing in the wind.

Josephine and Rick.

Genevieve and Lucio.

She’d already placed Roxanne and Eli in Bea’s capable hands. Even if—by some miracle—she were to live, Gloria knew the pair was too hot for an old lady like her to handle.

*   *   *

Rehabilitated?

Even as Eli slid his hands up under the hem of his old sweater, even as his palms spread out over the tight silk of Roxie’s abdomen and as his lips sizzled as they landed on her sweet belly button, he couldn’t stop laughing.

Roxie Bloom might need some help learning to let go of her anger, but she needed no remedial guidance in bed. Eli felt her fingers clawing at the shirt on his back, trying to yank it from where it was tucked into his belt. She was wiggling under his kisses, digging her heels into the mattress in an effort to feed herself to him. His head reeled with the hot musk of her arousal.

Eli wondered if he might be the one in need of rehab when this was all said and done.

“Oh, God, Eli. Oh, God.”

She’d managed to pull his shirt over the back of his head, but it caught under his arms, putting him in an awkward half-Nelson. But he kept his mouth busy on her skin, licking the edge of her ribs, kissing down her center, tugging on the edge of her little lace panties.

Roxanne’s hands began racing up and down the bare skin of his back. Her hands felt hot and soft. Like all of her. But he knew he would suffocate if he didn’t take a second to get situated.

He stopped kissing her belly. He pressed his hands on her thighs to stop her wiggling and pushing.

“Roxie. Hold up.”

She started wiggling again. She was making little squealing sounds.

“I can’t breathe, baby.”

“Oh.” She relaxed under him. “My bad.”

Eli pushed himself up with his nearly immobile arms, then reached over his head to rip the shirt off him. He pushed his knees between her spread legs, and smiled down at her.

“Holy shit,” Roxie whispered, her wide eyes moving all over his torso. “You’re incredible.”

His thoughts exactly. What he saw there beneath him was similar to the fantasy vision he’d once had of Roxie. Dark hair spilling out across a pillow. Arms reaching for him. Face flushed with desire. Legs open beneath him. But in the fantasy, she hadn’t been wearing a big ole baggy sweater.

“Eli,” she said, her voice nearly frantic, her hands tugging at the sleeves. “Please get this off me. I need to get naked. I want to feel your skin on mine. Hurry!”

“Ssshh,” he said. “Roxie, baby, there’s no rush. We have all the time in the world.”

She nodded, all the while attempting to wriggle her shoulders out of the wool neckline.

“Oh, fuck it,” he said, reaching down and ripping it from her body in one tug. He dove on top of her, reached underneath her body, and unclasped her little white bra. In a matter of seconds she was bare from the panties up, and he didn’t know what kind of feast he wanted first—the visual kind or the tactile kind. God, she was so beautiful. Eli had not exaggerated when he told her how he felt the first time he saw her. She’d been the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

Such pale, delicate flesh crowned with all that dark hair. Her eyes were like black diamonds fringed by long and thick lashes. That mouth. That pretty pink mouth. Oh, God, how that mouth could kiss.

He let his eyes drag down her throat, across her slender shoulders, to those two bouncy, creamy breasts with small brown nipples. She was perfect. She was utterly perfect.

“Eli,” she said, her voice heavy with need.

He looked into her eyes and saw that they had filled with tears. As mind-blowing as this moment was for him, he knew it was even more so for Roxie. She’d gone from despising him to offering herself up to him in the span of a week. She’d put it all on the line for him. She’d decided to trust him. It had to be scary as hell.

“Baby,” he said, slowly leaning down to place tender kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. He tasted the salt of her tears. “You’ll be safe with me. I promise,” he said.

“Because you keep your promises.”

“Each and every one of them.” Which reminded him … Eli gave her a gentle smile and slid off the edge of the bed. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back. Promise.”

Roxie shot up to a sitting position, those exquisite breasts swaying with her movement. He nearly choked at the sight. He thought he’d explode in his pants.

“But why?” she wailed. “Where are you going?”

He wiggled an eyebrow. “Take a guess.”

“You’re getting a condom?”

Eli shook his head. “No, Ms. Bloom. I’m getting the whole fuckin’ box.”

Chapter 15

Roxie fell against the pillows and tried to steady her breathing. That guy was unbelievable. She was going to die if she didn’t feel all his perfect man parts rubbing all over her in the next thirty seconds. She hadn’t had sex for more than a year. She was so wet she was afraid she’d leave a puddle on the mattress.

She heard the front door open and close. He must have let the dogs out. Then she waited. She counted to ten. Her fingers wandered down to the elastic band of her underwear. Where
was
he? She trusted him to keep all his promises and all that, but she was done waiting.

Roxie jumped from the bed, cornered the doorway in a sock-footed skid, and tiptoed down the hallway. She saw him standing at his nightstand, his back to his open bedroom door. As she eased toward him she appreciated how his waist tapered in and the muscles of his upper back flared and rippled. She loved that he had such a small, tight bundle of muscle for a butt. He was gorgeous. And very soon now, he’d be naked.

Roxie was glad Eli was young and strong, because what she was about to do wasn’t something she’d try with just any man.

She jumped him, wrapping her legs around his middle and her arms around his neck. Instantly, his hands reached behind to grab her ass and pull her in tight. He immediately began kneading the globes of her panty-covered bottom.

Roxie laughed in surprise. “You knew I was coming!” she said, giggling.

“You’ll be doing a lot of that today.” Eli crooked his neck around so he could see her. Roxie leaned in and kissed him. Their mouths slammed together, hot and slick and demanding. Eli’s tongue pushed between her lips, behind her teeth, then licked at the inside of her mouth. This was wilder than the kiss at the paddock, or in the park. Not that she was complaining. She’d happily take whatever he had for her, the wilder the better.

Without warning, Eli backed up and wrenched her legs from his body. Then he pushed her arms up and away so that she lost her grip. Roxie fell back on his big bed, yelping in surprise. The man seemed to be filled with surprises.

Eli spun around. “Roxanne,” he said, the deep-river sound of his voice making her even wetter. She loved how her name sounded coming from his mouth. She opened her legs.

“Yes?” She could see her breasts rising and falling with her breath. They felt swollen and tender.

“You’re mine,” he said.

That was it. No elaboration. While staring down at her with those ethereal green eyes, Eli began to undo the cowboy belt buckle.

She let out a little moan of helplessness, feeling paralyzed. Interestingly enough, Roxie had always imagined that the first time she saw Eli naked would be at her hands. She’d always pictured that she’d undo his belt and unzip his jeans and then pull everything down his legs. Then she would sit back on her haunches and savor the view.

But the moment was here and she couldn’t move. Eli’s alpha male eyes had pinned her to the bed, flat on her back, with her legs open.