P.S. You’re Intolerable (The Harder They Fall)

I SAT IN THE center of my walk-in closet, Joey-Girl beside me on a blanket, staring at my racks of clothing and shelves of shoes and handbags.

It seemed my new wardrobe had multiplied overnight. There were rows of shoes—sleek heels and funky boots. Purses with studs and chunky zippers. Ruffle-shoulder tops, knee-length skirts, cute cardigans, tailored slacks, and so many dresses. It was all my style but elevated.

I’d checked the pants. Sometime between us leaving the department store and me discovering everything in my closet last night, they had been hemmed to a perfect length.

So freaking thoughtful. But that was Elliot. Details like that never escaped him.

“Do you see all this, honey? It’s obscene!”

Joey kicked her feet and gazed up at the light fixture, her brow crinkled. She still loved the fan above my bed, maybe more than she loved me, but she was crushing on this light. It was a sweet mini chandelier, so I understood her infatuation.

“I know I told you all about not looking a gift horse in the mouth, but what about kissing one? Because I did, and I don’t know what the hel…vetica I was thinking.” I tapped her nose, making her smile. “You don’t know what I’m saying. Hopefully by the time you understand, Mommy will have her shitake together. See? I’ve stopped cursing so much.”

Not getting a lot of sleep wasn’t anything new to me, but last night had been worse than normal. I’d barely slept at all, tossing and turning, ruminating over Elliot’s complete lack of response to the feel of my lips on his.

Yes, he’d eventually kissed me back, but I couldn’t kick the gut feeling I’d screwed everything up. I’d changed things when they’d been running so smoothly the way they were.

The kicker was, I hadn’t even known I was going to kiss him until I did it. My brain decided to leave the chat, giving my instincts the reins, which was just unbelievable. My instincts could not be trusted.

Exhibit A, the baby who existed because my instincts had told me Liam would make a great co-parent.

Now I was sitting on the floor of my closet, looking at all my beautiful clothing, wondering how I was going to face Elliot again. I’d avoided him the whole day, taking Joey to hang out with Raymond and Davida and wandering around a park afterward.

But my stomach was rumbling. I needed to eat. I’d never been one of those girls who could skip a meal because I forgot, and that had compounded since having Joey.

Avoiding Elliot was stupid anyway. We had to work together tomorrow. It was better to get everything out in the open before then.

“What do you think, Joey-Girl? Are you ready to go hunt down dinner?” Like she understood me, she found her hand and started sucking on her fist. “Don’t even try to act like you’re hungry too. You’re not fooling me. I just fed you, you milk monster.”

A throat cleared, and I turned to find a very amused Elliot leaning one shoulder against the closet doorway. God, was he a sight, all languid and relaxed, his long legs crossed at the ankle, hands in the pockets of his black joggers. Why did he have to be so handsome? His catastrophically good looks mixed with his random yet increasingly more common bouts of tenderness would be my downfall.

“It’s not nice to call your daughter names, Catherine,” he deadpanned.

“Well, she’s a milk-a-holic. I’m not going to pussyfoot around the truth.”

Laughing under his breath, he entered my closet and offered me a hand. I accepted, and his long fingers engulfed mine, pulling me upright. Then he crouched down and swooped Joey into his arms.

“Come on, Jo. We need to feed your mother so she can keep you flush with your favorite substance.”

“Enabler,” I grumbled, following behind them. “Didn’t we talk about your terrible eavesdropping habit?”

“I thought we decided it wasn’t eavesdropping.”

“No such decision was made.”

He just laughed, carefully descending the stairs with my daughter secure in his arms.

Platters of sushi were laid out on the kitchen bar, and Joey’s bouncy seat was set up beside Elliot’s stool. He latched her in and turned on the music.

I blinked at him in surprise when he sat beside me and spread his napkin across his lap. He noticed me staring and turned to me with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you not want sushi?” he asked.

“You’re going to eat dinner with me?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not.”

In the weeks we’d lived here if Elliot was home in time for us to share dinner, he held Joey while I ate then we switched off. We hadn’t ever truly shared a meal except for the tacos in his car the day before.

He exhaled through his nose. “We’ll try it. She’s happy hanging out, and I would like to have dinner with you tonight.”

“Okay.” I leaned back to look at her. She wasn’t paying any attention to us, sucking on her fist and gazing at the toys dangling from the bar arching over her. “I would really like that.”

I was two pieces of sushi in when Elliot decided it was talking time.

“Have you avoided me all day because you’re embarrassed about what happened last night?”

I swallowed a mouthful of rice and tuna so fast I had to take a long drink of water to dislodge it from my throat.

“Obviously,” I uttered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He scrubbed the scruff on his chin. “At least you’re honest.” Then he snagged me by the nape and tilted me into him so we were face to face, nose to nose. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. If anyone does, it’s me. I wasn’t in my best form.”

“Your form was fine. I was the one who attacked you.”

He huffed, his hot breath feathering across my mouth. “You might believe I’m a cyborg, but I promise my normal response when a beautiful woman kisses me is not to stand there like my battery needs to be charged.”

“Do beautiful women usually kiss you out of the blue?”

“Not often enough for me to be prepared for it.”

I laughed, and his cheeks rose as he grinned. We were too close for me to see all of it, but the mirth shining in his eyes was enough to send heat through my veins.

“I won’t kiss you again without warning,” I whispered.

“Please do. I’ll be read—”

I pressed my lips to his, and his reaction was instantaneous. He pulled me into him, his fingers tangling in the back of my hair, his other hand on my hip. Tugging my head back, he took control, devouring me in slow, deliberate caresses, aligning our mouths like puzzle pieces, locking us together.

The groan that rumbled up from deep within him was enough to melt me into a puddle. I pressed closer, clutching at his shirt, and opened my mouth to him. My belly was hot, and my breasts were heavy and tingling.

Oh shit.

My breasts were tingling. That wasn’t good.

Elliot pulled back when he noticed I wasn’t kissing him anymore and cupped my face in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

“I…we…” It was too late. I felt it, my tank sticking to my nipples as milk leaked out. I’d flown far too close to the sun, making out with my boss without regard to the fact I was only wearing a nursing tank. No bra. No pads. “I’m wet.”

Another rumble from his chest. “That’s a good thing. I don’t understand why you look like you’re seconds from passing out.”

I closed my eyes, wishing I could’ve passed out. “Not there. Well, I’m wet there too, but…god, Elliot. I’m so fucking embarrassed right now. Could you just not look at me so I can run out of here with a shred of dignity?”

Still holding me, he leaned back, and I refused to look. I already knew what he was seeing: damp fabric clinging to my traitorous nipples. “Is that breast milk?”

“Yes.” I cringed. All of this was natural and beautiful when it came to feeding my child, but having a man like Elliot witness this catastrophe had me feeling undesirable and gross.

“This happens when Josephine cries. She’s not crying,” he stated.

I dared to flutter my eyes open, finding him studying my wet tank. He didn’t look disgusted. On the contrary, he appeared fascinated. I didn’t know if that was better.

“Sometimes it happens when I’m turned on.” I covered my breasts with my arms, too exposed.

“Don’t do that. Don’t hide.” Gently holding my wrist, he lowered my arm to my lap. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Catherine.”

“I’m not ashamed. I just—don’t you think this is strange?”

“It’s different, but I wouldn’t call it strange. Not at all,” he said, heat flickering from every word.

He liked this?

“Oh. But the last time, you seemed angry.”

He cocked his head. “Why would you think I was angry? That was the last thing I was feeling.”

“You got all red like you do when you’re mad at me.”

He stared at me for such a long time I thought he wasn’t going to speak to me anymore.

Finally, he did.

“Like you, I’ve never been able to control when my face flushes. But anger has never really been a trigger.”

“What is?” I asked, somewhat breathless.

His gaze swept over my face then ventured back to my chest. “Embarrassment, sometimes, but that isn’t an emotion that commonly affects me. More often than not, it’s from desire.”

A gasp escaped before I could clamp it down. My mind whirled back to all the times Elliot had looked at me red-faced and I’d assumed he was pissed. I’d have to take my time to reexamine all our interactions.

“Yeah,” he uttered, shifting closer to me again. “Everything you’re thinking is exactly right.”

Then he pressed his mouth to mine and plunged his tongue between my parted lips. I clung to him so I didn’t fall off my chair, weaving my fingers through the back of his thick hair.

This kiss was deep, hard, and ended far too quickly. He nipped at my bottom lip once, then again, before swiping his thumb over it and making a satisfied grunt.

“Now that we’ve settled things, let’s have dinner.”

He turned me around in my chair and rearranged my napkin in my lap before handing me my chopsticks. I took them, and we ate dinner together like he hadn’t just kissed me silly and my shirt wasn’t wet with my own milk.

I couldn’t sleep once again. Joey had been passed out for a couple hours and most likely wouldn’t wake until the morning, but I was staring at the ceiling, begging my brain to shut down so my tired body could rest.

It was useless.

Throwing my covers off in frustration, I tiptoed out of the room, careful not to wake my girl. Maybe if I went downstairs and read a book with a cup of tea, I could relax enough to snag a couple hours of sleep. I’d learned to function on very little rest, so that was all I really needed.

Padding into the kitchen, I opened the cabinet where the tea was stored. But as I stared at the box, I couldn’t bring myself to go through the motions of making it. Exhaustion weighed me down so thoroughly inertia crept into my bones, yet my eyes were wide open.

“Can’t sleep?”

I turned my head, watching Elliot stroll into the kitchen in nothing but loose pajama pants. His torso was constructed of lean muscle packed with power, like a cougar prowling the jungle. A smattering of dark hair trailed a line up his abdomen, spreading over his chest. My fingers twitched, this time with the urge to tug his chest hair, not flip him off like the old days.

“No.” I caught my tongue peeking out to lick my upper lip. Hussy. “I can’t shut my brain off.”

He stopped in front of me, sliding my hair away from my face and carefully tucking it behind my ears. “You look tired. You need to rest.”

I sighed. “I would if I could.”

“Am I responsible for this?” He seemed genuinely concerned, his frown deep and unhappy.

“No. It’s me.”

“Are you whipping up trouble?”

“Always.”

His frown intensified as he studied me. “What helps?”

“Nothing really. I just have to get tired enough to crash.”

Taking my hand in his, he tugged me against him then hooked my chin with his knuckle, tipping my head back, and brushed his mouth over mine.

“Let me tire you out.” He kissed me again, a whisper of his lips along mine sending shivers racing down my spine.

“How will you do that?”

“Do you trust me, Catherine?”

I nodded without hesitation. I had no idea what was happening here, but I trusted Elliot as much as I was capable of.

“Come with me.”

Holding my hand, he led me upstairs, bypassing my room to enter his. He guided me to the bed, and nerves clawed through my belly.

“I’m not ready for this.” I clutched his hand like a lifeline. “I can’t—”

He tapped my lips. “I’m not going to fuck you. I want you to lie down and let me make you come as many times as it takes to switch off your whirling dervish mind. Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Can you be a good girl for me and let me lick you?”

Oh god. My toes curled into the thick rug I stood on, and I had to stop my eyes from rolling back in my head. Who was this man talking so dirty to me I was light-headed?

I nodded before I could second-guess this decision.

“I don’t want to be naked.”

“Okay,” he soothed, taking my hips in his hands, hooking two fingers in the waistband of my shorts. “But I’m going to need these to come off.”

I had on a different tank than earlier. It was long, and I could pull it down to cover my stomach, which hadn’t recovered and maybe never would.

“You can take them off.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and positioned me to stand between his spread knees. Once he had me there, he whipped my shorts down my legs with his signature efficiency. I yanked the hem of my tank down, covering most of my convex stomach.

Elliot growled, pulling me even closer, his face pressing against the curve below my belly button.

“You smell really good.” He held me there, his arms wrapped around me, face nuzzled in the place I was most self-conscious. The longer I stood in his embrace, the more I let myself relax until I was combing my fingers through his hair and curling around him.

I swayed on my feet, tired but still so very awake. Elliot whirled us so I was on my back on his mattress with him kneeling between my legs.

He freed my trapped hair, spreading it around my shoulders, then surveyed his work.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, dragging his knuckles down my cheeks and over my sensitive breasts. “The only thing I want you to do is lie there and switch off your mind as best you can. Don’t worry about the amount of time I’m going to spend with my face in your pussy. I’m doing this for myself as much as you. I already know I’ll want to stay down there all night and I haven’t even tasted you. Your scent is enough. Do you understand?”

I nodded wordlessly. He’d rendered me speechless. No one had ever said these types of things to me. No man had certainly ever declared he planned to spend all night giving me pleasure. The veracity of Elliot’s desire was in the flush of his cheeks, his blown-out pupils, the bulge in his pants. He wanted this, and who was I not to give him what he wanted?

He dragged his mouth over the hills of my torso, and I let my legs fall open when he reached the apex. His mouth touched my inner thigh, and I nearly flew out of my skin.

It had been so long. So long.

I clutched the sheets next to my body, anticipation driving me mad. So far, none of this had relaxed me. If anything, I was more on edge than ever.

Elliot licked a straight line from my opening to my clit, and I released a moan that had been locked away for centuries. He huffed a laugh, hot air hitting my even hotter skin. I would have been pissed and sent him on his way, but the urgency with which I needed him to continue trounced my pride.

And thank god I was so easily swayed.

With expert precision, Elliot laved my pussy with long, wet lashes of his tongue, tasting every inch of me until colors bloomed behind my eyelids and my toes flexed to a point. What was this? What was he doing to me?

The noises that came from me couldn’t be stopped. One minute with Elliot between my thighs and I’d been reduced to a primal, pleasure-seeking being. I moaned and rocked against his mouth, my hips rising to meet the thrust of his fingers sliding carefully into me. Oh, it had been so long since anything had been inside me his invasion left me breathless.

My mouth opened in a silent cry when he sucked my clit between his lips, pulsing suction in time with the wild beat of my heart.

My climax barreled into me without warning, hitting me hard and fast. I raked at the sheets like I had talons and a need to destroy, overwhelming and almost frightening in its intensity. I finally got my voice to work again, and ragged cries that sounded nothing like me tore free.

Elliot rode it out with me, slowing his ministrations until it started to wane, then began again, giving me more when I felt like dying from what I’d already been given. His fingers hooked in my channel, pressing against my inner wall.

My eyes flew open, neck arching as he rubbed a place inside me that was raw nerves and the key to every answer in the universe. I panted for him, crying his name, rocking my hips to escape him, to beg for more. I couldn’t decide.

“More,” he murmured against my pulsing flesh. “I’m only getting started, sweetheart.”

He wasn’t exaggerating or stretching the truth. Elliot stayed in that position until I was croaking his name and thrashing my head on his pillow. I’d come three, four, maybe five times. My entire body quivered, and my chest was a sodden mess.

But my mind…it was delirious and mushy. My thoughts had become ephemeral, and I didn’t even attempt to grasp them.

“Give me one more, sweetheart. You need it.” He demanded my pleasure like it was rightfully his. Like I owed it to him. If I’d been capable of solid thought, I wouldn’t have been surprised Elliot was this way in bed. It was just who he was in every avenue.

I had no choice but to give him another orgasm, rasping for him from my ravaged throat.

He climbed over me, staring at my wet top. This time, rivulets had traveled all the way to my belly button. I was a mess, and I did not care.

Elliot didn’t either. With a groan, animalistic and feral, he dove down to my chest and sucked the cotton into his mouth. Another groan, then he tugged my tank down enough for him to lap at my damp flesh.

If I’d been more aware of anything other than how good he was making me feel, I might have paused to worry he’d run with disgust. But there was no room for that in my pleasure-saturated mind. He buried his face between my breasts, his tongue dragging over my milky skin. His breathing was heavy, panting over me. His erection prodded my inner thigh through his sweats, but he made no move to find relief in me. And that was good. I wasn’t ready, and he’d turned me inside out so thoroughly I probably would have agreed to whatever he’d asked.

“So fucking good,” he rasped.

Elliot circled his tongue around my nipples, licking the white beads from each.

“Elliot,” I murmured, getting lost in the fog. “You feel—oh, please don’t stop.”

He gently sucked on my sensitive nipples, one at a time, licking the milk that trickled out. My body was loose and boneless, sinking into the mattress like I’d fall all the way through at any moment. I closed my eyes, unconcerned about what he did or where he went next.

Soon, he was trailing kisses along my stomach and settling between my thighs again. Hooking his arms under my legs, keeping me spread, he grazed me, his silky lips gliding over my swollen flesh. Licking me slowly, kissing me softly, he drizzled his attention on me like a calm afternoon rainfall. I soaked it up, breathing out my pleasure and exhaustion.

Sleep was as close as my orgasm. They were chasing each other to get to me first.

I sighed, giving myself over to whichever happened.

“Let go,” he whispered. “Just let go.”

Those were the last words I heard.