Heat Fifty Tales of Passion

The storm outside had been growling all night, a deep-throated rumble that seemed to vibrate through the glass of her apartment windows. Rain painted slick, winding trails down the panes, and the warm yellow light from a table lamp made everything inside feel too intimate-too soft.Eli sat on her couch like he had a hundred times before, feet up, a glass of red in one hand.

But tonight, there was something in the air.

Across from him, Ava tucked her legs beneath herself, wearing an oversized gray sleep shirt and nothing else. He could tell-every time she shifted, the hem lifted just enough to tease a glimpse of bare thigh.

"Why is it always your place that loses power first?" she teased, nudging him with her foot.

Her nails were painted dark wine red. He noticed that now. He'd never noticed that before.

"Because yours is warmer," Eli said. "Smells like vanilla and... fuck, I don't know. Whatever it is, it's addictive."

Ava laughed-but it came out breathier than usual. "Vanilla and 'fuck, I don't know.' Real specific."

His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. They were on her lips now.

Watching the way she licked a drop of wine from the rim of her glass.

The air between them felt charged, not just from the storm. Something electric was threading its way into the years of friendship they'd built, and it was begging to snap.

"You cold?" he asked.

"I could be warmer," she murmured.

He lifted the edge of the blanket.

She slid under it with him.

The blanket settled over both of them, their legs tangled loosely.

Her bare thigh rested against the denim of his jeans.

He could feel the heat of her skin seeping into him.

Thunder cracked, closer now, making the lights flicker.

"I always get so restless during storms," she said.

"Restless how?" His voice was quieter now, lower.

Ava glanced at him. She didn't answer.

But she didn't move away, either, when his hand settled on her thigh.

Just rested there, fingers splayed lazily, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

"Like that?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

She looked down at his hand, then up at him. Her pupils were blown wide.

"That's a good start."

His hand moved higher.

She sucked in a breath, but still didn't stop him.

When his fingers brushed the edge of her panties-black lace, thin as sin-her hips twitched.

"You're not gonna stop me, are you?" he asked, his mouth so close to her ear it sent a shiver down her spine.

"No," she whispered.

He pushed the fabric aside and cupped her heat, fingers dipping between her folds.

She was already slick."Fuck, Ava... you're soaked."

"You gonna just talk about it or actually do something?"

He grinned into her neck, lips brushing her skin. "Bossy. I like it."

His fingers slid into her slowly, testing the give of her tight, wet heat.

She gasped, biting down on her lip as her hips bucked toward him.

"Easy, baby. Let me feel you," he murmured.

He curled his fingers just slightly, dragging them along the sensitive spot that made her shudder.

She clutched at his shirt, nails digging into his shoulder.

Her legs parted wider, the blanket falling from her lap to expose her thighs.

She looked wanton like this-spread open for him, flushed, panting.He kissed her neck, the curve of her shoulder, his free hand sliding under her shirt to find her tits.

She wasn't wearing a bra.

When his thumb grazed her nipple, she moaned so softly it made his cock twitch.

"You've thought about this, haven't you?" he growled."Me finger-fucking you on this couch while the storm shakes your windows."

"Yes," she gasped.

"Fuck, yes."He sped up, pushing deeper, curling harder.

She was wet and pulsing around him, hips rolling desperately.

"Fuck , you're tight," he hissed. "Dripping down my hand. So fucking needy. Did I make you this wet, or were you already like this when I walked in?"

"Eli-fuck-I'm gonna-"

"Not yet." He slowed, fingers retreating until she whimpered.

"Why?" she begged.

"Because I want to hear you say my name when you come."His fingers moved again-deliberate, wicked, relentless."Say it," he ordered.She clung to him, mouth open, panting, whimpering into his neck.

"Say my fucking name, Ava."

"Eli," she breathed.

"Louder."

"Eli, fuck, don't stop-don't you fucking stop-"

"I won't. I want to feel you fall apart."

His fingers thrust faster, sloppier now, her wetness making obscene sounds between her thighs.

Her body trembled as he pinched her nipple with his free hand and bit down on her shoulder.

Her whole body arched, her mouth open in a silent cry before she shattered with a guttural moan."FUCK, ELI!"

He held her through it, fingers still moving until she twitched and pushed his hand away, too sensitive.She collapsed against him, soaked and breathless, heart racing.Outside, thunder cracked again.

Inside, her body still pulsed in aftershocks around his hand.She looked up at him, dazed, smiling, flushed.

And he was still rock hard.

Ava was still panting when she lifted her head from Eli's chest, lips parted, cheeks flushed, skin glistening with sweat.He looked wrecked-his hand still wet from her orgasm, his eyes dark and dangerous, his cock visibly straining against his jeans.