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.