Game of Love (The Remingtons, Book One: Love in Bloom Series)

Chapter Nineteen, Game of Love

Chapter Nineteen

THE APARTMENT WAS quiet when Dex walked in. Too quiet. He called Ellie's name. She hadn't answered her phone and now the silence caused his stomach to feel funky. He found the empty envelope from her bank card and her cell phone on the table by the front door. Her black boots were on the rug beside the table. She'd never leave without her boots. Why am I even thinking that way? Shouldn't today have proven to him that she wasn't going anywhere? At least not right now.

"El?" He walked through the empty living room and dining room. Her cell phone vibrated, and he picked it up on his way back to the bedroom. Asshole flashed on the screen. Asshole? He smiled. That was so Ellie. He didn't have to wonder long to figure out who Asshole was. Ellie could have used that term for any guy who pissed her off. A boss. A boyfriend. The thought made him cringe. He squelched the urge to read the text when he caught sight of Ellie through the halfway-open bathroom door, dancing in her lacy black underwear and T-shirt. He tossed the phone on the bed and stepped closer. The sound of her humming caused his ears to perk up. He watched her through the partially open door. Her hips swayed as her shoulders moved from side to side in a seductively slow dance. Damn, she was hot. The hair dryer was beside the sink, and the scent of her sweet perfume filled his senses. His body heated up, and when she threw her hands up above her head and did a sexy little shimmy, he just about lost it. Christ almighty, she was his midnight fantasy come true.

He couldn't have stopped himself if his life depended on it. He stepped into the bathroom, and Ellie started; a yelp slipped from her lips. He took her in his arms and captured the balance of the fright—her panting breaths—in his mouth. She smelled fresh and feminine, and her skin was so damn soft as he slipped his hands beneath her T-shirt. When he met the bare skin of her breasts, a deep growl escaped his lungs.

She was totally in sync with him, loving him right back with her hungry kiss. She tugged the earbuds from her ears, and he lifted her up to the countertop, pushed her shirt up to her shoulders, and shoved his hips between her legs. He could barely hold back. He wanted Ellie. All of Ellie. She buried her hands in his hair and drew his mouth to her breasts. He gratefully obliged and stroked her nipples with his tongue until she writhed against him. Fuck, she's so hot. She drew his lips back to hers and kissed him hard and deep, and as she drew back, she licked his bottom lip, then took it in her mouth and sucked it, letting it go slowly through her teeth. Dex groaned, unable to form a coherent thought. He grabbed her ass and pulled her to the edge of the counter, then rubbed her through her damp panties. She settled her teeth on the tender skin of his neck while her tongue worked slow strokes over his already-heated skin; then she pressed his hand firmly between her legs.

"Ellie," he whispered. He pulled at her panties, and she lifted up, giving him access to draw them down; then he lowered his mouth to her and loved her until her body shook with tiny pulses of pleasure.

"Dex. Please. Please," she begged.

He ripped open his jeans, and they dropped to his ankles. Their eyes locked, and she leaned in to him, kissing him again. Knowing she tasted herself on his lips nearly made him explode. He grabbed her hips and drove into her. She gasped a breath against his lips, unwilling to release her grip on the back of his neck, and then kissed him again. She was so wet, so hot; he wasn't going to last. Shit, he wanted to make love to her for hours. He wanted to keep her in his arms forever, breathe air into her lungs, and fill her heart with happiness so she never had reason to feel sad or alone—or leave him again. He'd waited so long to be with her, and now his body trembled with a mixture of desire, anticipation, and worry that he refused to acknowledge. He needed more of her—to drive the fear away. Far, far away. In one quick motion, he lifted her off the counter. Her legs clung to his waist; her breasts pressed against his T-shirt, her lips against his mouth. She used his biceps for leverage and met each thrust with a slide of her own.

He carried her to the bed, still buried deep inside her, and they tumbled down together. She smiled up at him and his heart swelled. He pushed her hair from her face. "God, I love you."

Ellie grabbed his hips and whispered, "Dexy, go slow."

He obeyed, and she did that incredibly sexy thing with her hips again, that little move that stroked him—and her—in the spot that sent them both spiraling toward the edge, and as her eyes fluttered closed, she whispered, "Now." He surged up, penetrating deeper. She clawed at his back, and her inner muscles squeezed every inch of him in erotic contractions, pulling the come right out of him. He nuzzled against her neck, teeth clenched, grunting through his own earth-shattering release.