Page 67 of Saving Stella

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

His command had apparently been wired into her brain because her body began to shake with pleasure. That only fueled him more, as his fingers rubbed at her center. The orgasm crashed into her hard, and her head spun from the force of it. She had barely recovered when he pushed her onto her back, spread her legs, and entered her in one motion.

She moaned at the delicious friction. Despite the fact that they’d had sex at least half a dozen times already, she still craved his cock. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to get him as deep as she could. He gave a particularly hard thrust that had her shivering in delight and pushing her hips up at him.

“Stella …” His hands came down on her hips, gently gripping her. “Slow down. Just let me …”

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he changed his motions.

Steady. Easy. Gentle.

This was nothing like the previous times where the sex was frantic and rough and aggressive. Cliff cradled her in his arms, holding her so close to his chest, she could feel his heartbeat against her cheek. He plunged into her, over and over, and pleasure spread through her with each languid stroke. She wanted him to go deeper and harder, to set a bruising pace, but he didn’t heed her. Instead, he continued his gentle ministrations until she was whimpering with need, right at the edge of her orgasm.

“Cliff, please … I need to come.”

“Do it, sweetheart. Just let go.”

Her body tensed as he pushed her past her limits, past the edge until her orgasm razed through her. She couldn’t remember much—she may have sobbed from the relief of the pleasure. However, she did recall how he wrapped her up in his arms until she fell back asleep.

When she woke up again, she was alone. The room was still dark, but her body knew that it had to be very late in the day. Sitting up, she reached for the bedside lamp to turn it on, then slid off the bed toward the curtains. She pulled at them, and light flooded through the crack, making her recoil. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness, her sleep-hazed brain began to wake up, too, and the first question that came to her mind was, where was Cliff?

She’d been so exhausted that she didn’t wake when he left. She didn’t find a note or anything from him. Maybe he left her a message.

My phone!

She recalled dropping her purse by the door when they got in. Her clothes lay in a pile on the bed, so she grabbed one of the fluffy hotel robes and put on the matching slippers before padding out. “Cliff?” she called.

The most peculiar feeling came over her just before she stepped over the threshold of the living area. She sensed there was a presence there, before she even saw the figure sitting on the couch. “Hey—Jacob?”

“Hey, Stella.” Cliff’s cousin waved casually from where he sat, grinning at her. “Hope you don’t mind; I was starving after my flight.” He gestured to the coffee table, which overflowed with plates of food—a pepperoni pizza, two burgers, a basket of fries, chicken wings, and slices of what appeared to be apple pie and chocolate cheesecake.

“Where’s Cliff—oh!” The smell of the food wafted into her nose, and her stomach gurgled audibly. “Oops. Sorry.”

“You look like you could use a meal.” He waved her over. “Eat. There’s more than enough.”

“Oh, thank the Lord.” She nearly tripped over her hotel slippers as she scampered toward the table. “I’m starving.” She grabbed the first thing she could—a burger—and bit into it, not caring if the juices dripped down her chin. Despite finishing the burger in four bites, her stomach clamored for more, so she reached for the wings.

“Are these—” Her hand dropped to her side, remembering why she came out here in the first place. Wiping her mouth and fingers with a napkin, she turned to Jacob. “Where’s Cliff?”

Jacob had a slice of pizza halfway to his mouth when she asked the question. A guilty look crossed his face as he lowered his hand. “Stella …”

She didn’t need him to say anything else as a pit formed in her stomach.

Cliff left.

“He was only here temporarily,” he reminded her gently. “The office sent me here to replace him.”

“I see.” She wanted to throw up. Or run back to the bedroom and scream. Or maybe even hunt down the coward and scream at him. Anything that could make the deep ache forming in her chest go away.

But she didn’t have the right to go after him. He had made himself clear the first time about not being able to give her anything more than sex. She was the one who started it, insisted on it, practically begged him for one night.

He could have at least said goodbye.

“Stella? You okay? Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine.” Though her hunger wasn’t yet sated, she just couldn’t sit here anymore. Not when everything about this place reminded her of him. “I just want to go home.”

“I’ll take you, no worries.” From his sympathetic smile, she guessed he knew what happened between her and Cliff, which made this even more embarrassing. She shot to her feet and turned away from him. “I should get—oh no.” She slapped a hand on her forehead. “I … don’t have any other clothes.” She would never wear that dress again.