ON HOLD - Ellis Sutton, the sweet and caring Instagram influencer, has never felt the need to be romantically involved with a man despite her online fame. Everything seems fine until a two-week fling one summer when a handsome cowboy shakes things u...
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"May I?"
He gently toys with the edges of my silky underwear, his fingers tracing along the delicate border where the fabric meets my skin. His steel blue eyes slowly crawl up to meet mine, patiently waiting for my response. I subtle nod.
With a twist of his fingers, he slowly tugs them down my legs, guiding them off, one foot at a time. Holding them out in front of him, his eyes still fixed on me, a crooked smile spreads across his lips. I watch as he deliberately shoves them into the back pocket of his light-washed Wrangler jeans, making sure I see that he's pocketing some of my most expensive underwear.
He leans down, his hot, wet mouth pressed against my neck as I weave my fingers through his espresso-colored hair.
"You're not taking those, are you?" I question, my voice about eight octaves higher than usual—breathy and thin. God, the way he makes me feel like I'm suddenly inexperienced.
"Those are expensive," I add, grasping the hem of his white shirt, and lifting it up as my fingers glide across every contour of his defined, muscular back.
"Don't worry," he gently withdraws from me, peeling off the shirt from his arms and tossing it to the floor alongside the rest of our discarded clothes. "I'll keep them safe."
"I'm not sure I like the sound of that, Rhett," I tease.
God, why am I arguing with him? I don't even care. I don't care. He can keep them.
"Tell me," he slips his hand between my thighs, and my back arches off the mattress. "What is it you like then, sugar?"
"Earth to Ellis," Delaney says, snapping her fingers in front of my face, then waving her hand in an attempt to grab my attention. "Hello?"
"Hmm?" I respond, blinking a few times and crossing my legs, gently clenching them to ease the ache.
"You're not listening," she states, her blue eyes narrowing at me.
I clear my throat. "Yes, I am," I counter.
Juniper snickers to herself, taking a seat on the ottoman of my couch, legs crossed, a bag of popcorn in hand. Sleepless in Seattle is playing in the background of my living room. The part where Meg Ryan is telling Rosie O'Donnell, "They knew it! Time, distance. Nothing could separate them because they knew. It was right, it was real, it was..."
I must have zoned out longer than I thought.
"Yes or no, then?" Delaney asks, listlessly shaking her head as if she doesn't buy it.
I glance between both of my best friends, attempting to recall the last thing we were talking about. Something about Delaney going through my closet of extra makeup from sponsors and PR packages, I think? Or maybe it was her wanting to borrow my yellow Free People dress. Either way, I couldn't care less if she did. But, if it's about me going to her elementary school play for Kid Frankenstein just to keep her company, then it's a firm no. I won't be fooled into it again.
