Drops of water plopped from his tight muscular frame to form two puddles on the pool deck. His face was buried in a white towel as he dried the excess running off his hair and down into his icy green eyes. Eyes that would search for me in the next moment or two because I wasn’t where he’d seen me last.
As ridiculous as it sounded, it really had gotten that intense. Because my beautiful man’s possessiveness had ballooned into its current overinflated state over a period of time, it hadn’t seemed as suffocating to me as it probably should have.
Usually, the scale noticeably ratcheted up only when a dangerous situation arose. After one of those episodes, trying to reason his ownership vibe away was pointless—with Elijah or anyone else, for that matter. Considering his primary peer examples were Sebastian Shark and Grant Twombley, any other behavior would’ve been unanticipated.
The first had his wife carted off to a Mohave Desert safe house when he was overly paranoid his secret enemies would turn their sights on her. The second one nearly strangled his woman while she slept beside him, mistaking her for the same secret enemies who were trying to hurt Shark by hurting the people he cared about most. Grant had terrible PTSD-driven nightmares from the week and a half he spent in their captivity. So now, everyone in that man’s circle of close friends was just trying to stay out of harm’s way and undo the mental and emotional damage that had already been done.
Including me. I was trying not to add stress in any way, shape, or form to Elijah’s life. If he ended up spending another decade man-whoring around the greater Los Angeles area, it would not be with my name on his lips. No matter what it took, I would not be the one he blamed. If things didn’t work out between us the way he envisioned, it wasn’t going to be my reputation he dragged through the mud and then in and out of every willing woman’s bedroom.
When I was a girl, my father always preached to us about the importance of a good reputation. That your name could make or break you before you even entered a room. So even though LA was a huge city, when you were born and raised here, and then as an adult lived and made a living here too, that same gigantic city was somehow reduced in size.
It was rare to go out and not see someone I knew. Either a family friend, someone I went to culinary school with, or even someone who was one of my sisters’ friends. My father worked very hard to make a good name for himself and our family over the years. We all understood what that meant and did our share to keep it that way as we got older and stepped out into society.
Although I feared for Shep’s ability to color inside the lines for much longer, I had to trust that most of her issues were with me personally and not my parents or other sisters. For whatever reason, if she wanted to hurt someone, I felt confident it would be me she took aim at and not my mom and dad.
Sheppard would be the one person not happy to see me later today. But first, I needed to deal with the dripping, sexy dilemma right in front of me. I couldn’t predict Elijah’s reaction to the news bomb I was about to drop on him, but I’d seen him function under pressure before.
Not only was he arrestingly handsome to observe while having a normal conversation, but also experiencing this man in a passionate exchange with another person was like watching the different stages of an active volcano bubble and burp until it finally erupted and molten lava boiled out over the rim.
He wore my favorite cocky-but-oh-so-sexy grin as he strode over to the kitchen slider, still dripping from his swim. I slid the door back to see if I could get him anything from inside while he dried off. However, his answer evaporated into the morning sunbeams along with the moisture in my mouth.
At least a dozen things ran through my mind regarding the tight and fabulous clenching sensation in my abdomen and parts lower while I stared at the way his practice suit hung so low on his hips that it was just shy of obscene.
“Jesus Christ, man,” I muttered and closed my eyes, playing it off that the sun was causing a terrible glare as it bounced off the other windows around the courtyard.
“You’re so full of shit.” He chuckled. “I saw you checking me out.” His eyes glimmered with the same mischief that tugged his grin wider.
I raised my chin in defiance. “So what if I was? You have some nerve, mister, strutting around here like that.” I made a sloppy gesture with my hand, starting down low at his toes and sweeping up the length of his body.
“Did you have a good swim?” I inquired.
“I did. Thank you for asking. You know you’re always welcome to join me, don’t you?”
“Yes, and I appreciate that. I think you’d pass me in no time though, and I’d feel like I was in the way. You know what that’s like, right? When someone’s up your ass in the same lane you’re practicing?”
“Yes, the worst. But my God”—he rolled his eyes dramatically—“what I would give to be up your ass, Ms. Farsey. You have no idea.” Elijah groaned and took a deep breath, fluttering his ridiculously long eyelashes as he let his lids fall closed. When he popped them open again, he took an exaggerated inhale through his nose like he was recentering his chakras and picked up the conversation where he had stopped before.
My God, help me. I think I could fall in love with this man.
“Makes for a stressful workout, though, you’re right. But hey, talk about motivation, right? Before you know it, your time in the pool is done!”
“I don’t know…” I started a thought but trailed off as I considered my options. “I’d rather work out alone and do it at my own pace than with a group and be pushed past my limits.”
“That’s my practical girl,” he said and tried to pull me close into his embrace, but I batted at his outstretched arms.
“No way, man. You’re still wet, and I don’t want to change again before I head out.” Here we go. It was now or never. He just loaded the bases, and I was going to hit the grand slam to bring all the runners home. Or send me home, as it would be in this case. I chuckled at the absurdity of the word game taking place in my mind but sobered quickly. There wasn’t a single funny thing about what I was preparing to do.
My handsome man caught on to the little verbal clue I had just dropped and was giving me that curious puppy stare with the tilted head and all. If his hair were just a bit drier, it would be flopping to the side in that irresistible way it did.
Inquisition and confrontation morphed his features and bearing before my eyes. “Hannah? What’s going on?” he finally asked.
I let out a big sigh and ran my toe along one of the grout lines of the tiled floor. How was I going to say these words if I couldn’t even maintain eye contact with him? But there was no point putting it off any longer.
“We should probably talk.” With a sigh, I looked up and asked hopefully, “Do you want to sit down?”
“Not really, no. Just say what’s on your mind.” Tension pulled his spine even straighter, and he seemed to grow taller by an inch or two.
“I’m going to go home today. Back to my parents’ house.” There. Mic drop. That wasn’t so bad.
“The hell you are.”
“Elijah, I’m serious.”
“Great. So am I.”
“Please don’t fight me on this. There hasn’t been a security issue for weeks now. Not even a stray photographer.” It sounded so logical coming out of my mouth, but when I had to stand and look at his crestfallen expression, there was no way to stop the pain in my chest.
“This doesn’t mean we’re not going to still see each other,” I added quickly, hoping I could address all the negative points he might try to make before any one of them had a chance to gain wings.
“Really, beautiful? How do you see it playing out? Me coming over to your mom and dad’s place and we all hug it out on the sofa all night long?”
I chuckled at the thought, because again, the visual those words painted was downright silly. But it was the perfect segue to a point I wanted to address.
“Of course that’s not what I had in mind, but while we’re on the subject, let’s talk about my folks.”
“Maybe I should sit down after all,” Elijah grumbled, but I heard him just fine.
“They’re two of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. But that’s the problem here. Or one of the problems.”
He looked at me like I switched languages midsentence and finally found one he didn’t have working knowledge of.
“I’m not following your logic, beautiful.”
“The problem is you haven’t met them. Ever. Typically, when one of us wants to date, that happens first, not after we’ve lived with the guy for a few months. This whole thing”—I made a wide lasso around my head to encompass our unusual situation—“is really out of the ordinary. I think it is for most people.”
“I’d like to take a moment to point out that I wanted to meet your parents when you went back to their house to pack some things. It was, I don’t know…” He looked upward like the answer he was searching for would be written on the ceiling’s hand-troweled plaster. “Maybe the second or third night after you moved in. Do you remember that?”
I nodded but got the very distinct impression he’d plow on whether I had or not.
“And you said no. You said it would raise too many questions, and you were adamant about it. And I respected you on the matter.” Now that he’d gotten all that bluster out of his system, he crossed his defined arms across his chest and leaned back. So fucking cocky, like he had scored the final blow.
It was true. I had said those things, and it really would have caused quite a stir if I had shown up with Mr. Gorgeous here and said, Oh, it’s okay, Daddy. He sneaks into my room at night and does amazing things with his fingers. Yep! I was sure he’d be totally understanding if I just told the truth like that.
With a hint of new intention in his gaze, he stepped toward me. No, he sauntered or maybe prowled—those were the best ways to describe the seductive way his body moved closer to me. Scooping my hands into his own, he brought my fingers to his plush lips and kissed them.
“So what do you propose we do to fix this situation?” His green eyes looked like they were painted with watercolors today. Probably a result of the delightful amount of sun that lit up the west-facing side of the house.
“Why do you have to move back in their home permanently for me to meet them? Let’s invite the family here for dinner or something. You can show off your new home,” Elijah said, trying to sell the idea. I had a feeling he wasn’t going to go down without a fight on this.
“Can we agree on a few conditions that might necessitate my return instead?”
His eyebrows seemed to be climbing with their own agenda as intrigue distorted his face.
I wanted to laugh or at least chuckle, but I could see what all of this was doing to him, and it definitely wasn’t funny. But seeing Elijah Banks with a confused expression was like a Bigfoot sighting. Rare. After thinking about it for just a moment, I realized why he was resisting something that really wasn’t the big deal he was making it into.
“How much of this”—I made a sweeping gesture up and down his body—“has to do with the fact that you feel out of control right now? None of this was your idea, and it makes you uncomfortable, nervous, or some other negative feeling.”
“None,” he answered quickly. Maybe a little too quickly. I’d have to circle back to this point because I was pretty sure there was a giant tangle beneath the surface if I just pulled on the loose thread that was visible. But we were on a timeline for the rest of the day if we were going to make it to dinner on time.
“You going to let me in on this conversation or just have it with yourself?” He chuckled at his quip, and I gave him a cheerleader smile, as he called them. Fake and forced with no true emotional fuel behind the expression. “I’m going to get out of this wet bathing suit. Come with me to the bedroom so we can continue talking?”
The last was poised with the lilt of a question, so I followed him down the long hall from the kitchen to his master bedroom. As we walked, I tried to explain the meaning of my first comment.
“I’m hoping if I go back and it’s completely unbearable with my sisters—fine, with Sheppard—or just living by my parents’ rules now that I’ve had a taste of life out from under their wings…” I shrugged sheepishly, feeling very self-conscious all of a sudden. “I don’t know…” I couldn’t meet his gaze, so I studied the turquoise nail polish ID let Rio paint on my toes for Abbi’s wedding. Finally, I said, “Maybe this is too much to ask.” I seriously wanted to tuck into a ball and roll out of the room.
“Please just say what you were going to say before you sabotaged yourself.”
“Okay. Okay.” I held my hand up to stop him from anymore of the Elijah Banks tough-love style of encouragement. It wasn’t always easy to explain to someone who counseled as fiercely as they loved and labored that some situations were better suited for a gentler hand.
So instead, I fortified myself with a deep inhale and just blurted, “Can I come back?” I scanned his features for immediate signs of rejection. Not noticing any, I explained further. “If it doesn’t work out at my parents’, I mean. I’ll understand if you say no, because I realize how presumptuous it is of me to think there’s a perpetual welcome mat at your front door with my name on it.”
I could hear my rambling. I could feel my cheeks’ temperature climbing much faster than the rest of my face. I could even picture myself shifting nervously from one foot to the other and then tried to stop that too when I imagined how silly I looked.
Times like this, it was hard to imagine why anyone bothered having me in their life. I was a serious train wreck who monopolized conversations, people’s attention and time.
From outside my body, I witnessed it all but still couldn’t stop the disaster. I lived with the potential implosion every day. Today just happened to be the day the train went off the tracks.
Waaaaayy off the tracks.
With my face shielded by my own hands from more humiliation, I started in with the apologies. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears and feel it like a heavy bass line at my clavicle. From behind the safety wall of my hands, the remorse and recrimination were easier to start heaping on. If I had to look at his perfect face while admitting all my imperfections, I would have never gotten through even one round of apologizing.
Left, right. Left, right, repeat. Left, right, left, right, again. I shook my head in desperate frustration. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I feel like an idiot.” I put my hand up in a stop gesture so he wouldn’t consider letting me off the hook. “Forget I said anything, okay? Can we just forget that happened?”
Before I could say anything more, Elijah took me in his strong arms and held me tightly against his body. The moment I felt his sedate bearing wash over me too, I sagged against him. Heaven. He felt and smelled like heaven, and it was effortless to sink into him completely.
God, I was going to miss this. Miss him when he left me.
“Hannah, listen to me. I don’t want you to leave at all.” He dipped down so we were at even height and looking at one another, eye to eye. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you? Don’t leave. Whatever it is you need or whatever I’m not doing, I’m sure it’s something we can work out. But baby, I can’t fix what I didn’t know was broken.” His eyes had thawed from the typical ice to a mossy green like nature’s carpet that sprouted up between the rocks outside his back gate.
“Tell me what you need,” he beseeched. “Tell me how to make it better.”
“That’s just it, and I’m trying to explain it to you, but I know I’m doing a terrible job. I’m not your responsibility.” I stopped talking abruptly, even though there were plenty of things I still wanted to say.
A strange sound came from low in the man’s throat or possibly from his chest somewhere. He sounded like an animal on the hunt or one that was cornered and getting very testy about it.
“Are you growling? Like legit growling at me right now?” I took a step back, and he immediately advanced into that space. I took another step back and felt the solid support of the king-size mattress behind my legs. Again, Elijah filled the emptiness, trapping me between the bed and his body.
“How can you say something so ridiculous?” He leaned over me, and I tried to angle back. One more degree of tilt, though, and I would be flat on my back on his bed.
And why did I feel like the cornered animal now?
“Wh-What? What did I say?”
“You’re not my responsibility?” He nearly spit the word like it was sharp and bitter on his tongue. “Maybe—maybe not like a job or paying taxes. But in here”—he got his hand in the small void between our bodies and thumped on his chest—“in here, I feel like I need to protect you. I need to take care of you. Provide for you. When I do those things? Those basic things? Then I feel like I’m living my perfect life. Those are the most basic elements of me. I don’t know if any of that makes sense. And I’m aware of how much of a caveman that makes me sound. Maybe even simpleminded. But that is my truth.”
Straightening, he paced away, and I stood up tall again as well. Watched with my jaw hanging open a tad in reaction to everything he just declared. Stretched my neck as far as possible when he disappeared around the corner and into his closet to pull on some jeans and a well-worn T-shirt.
“Sit with me a minute? I’m not sure when you wanted to leave, and I really hope you will reconsider leaving, period. But I won’t force to you to stay if it’s not what you want. Even though every cell in my body is clamoring to do exactly that.”
In the sitting area of his bedroom, we both took a spot on the love seat and angled our bodies toward each other. Elijah scooped my hands into his and lovingly stroked my skin.
“I want to share something about my past with you that very few people know. It may help you understand why I have such a deep-rooted need to care for you.”
“O-o-kay. Thank you. I won’t betray you,” I offered in response and tried to hold his gaze, but for the first time since I’d met this breathtaking man, he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. So unusual. “Elijah?”
But still he stared at our joined hands, and I could almost hear how many thoughts were trying to break free from his complicated mind.
“When I was a child, my mother and father seemed so in love, you know? At least, it seemed that way to the outside world, and really, to me too. Especially when I was a young boy. My father treated my mother like a queen. When he came home from business trips, he always had lavish gifts for her. Sometimes for me too if she gave him”—he made air quotes—“a good report when they spoke on the phone.”
I smiled at the thought of a young boy with Elijah’s arresting good looks. Those electric green eyes and charming smile—I’d have to ask him to see some photos another time. Instead, I asked, “What did he do for a living? Your father…” I was trying to remember if I’d ever heard his name used.
“He was an art broker. Paintings, sculptures, and illustrations mostly. At the time, graphic art was in its infancy, and the performing arts, well, obviously, that’s a whole different business.”
“How fascinating. And exciting. And you never wanted to follow in your father’s footsteps?”
“No.”
“Ummm, okay.” I had a feeling there was a much bigger story to that one-word answer, and it was very clear I wasn’t going to be hearing it. At least not right now.
“The reason I brought up that son of a bitch wasn’t to take a sweet stroll down memory lane with you. Shit, I don’t know why I led off this conversation with words about that gutter rat.” Elijah sprang to his feet so aggressively, I yelped in surprise.
“Sorry,” he muttered with barely a check over his shoulder to ensure I was okay.
Wow. Something about his father really triggered his temper. I was compelled to stand and go to him. Comfort him. But honestly, I felt nervous from the way he was acting.
Only a couple of minutes passed, and then my handsome man sat down beside me again. He had schooled his rage or shame, or whatever emotion that was, and wordlessly asked for my hands again. I gave him my entire body instead by climbing into his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. Ensuring we kept our stares locked, I linked my fingers together behind his head and pressed my forehead to his.
“I’m so sorry you had to remember things you didn’t want to. I feel like I was the catalyst, and I’m so sorry.”
“Hannah, my beautiful, beautiful Hannah. Don’t be ridiculous.” A sly grin started in the corner of his plush mouth and seductively spread across the distance.
I’d seen this trick before and knew he was about to tease me in one way or another.
“Obviously, you’re an amazing woman.”
My grin was as wide as his then, just waiting for the punch line.
“But even you can’t influence people’s minds. Sorry to burst your bubble, babe.”
I playfully narrowed my gaze at his. “Really?”
“Really.”
With both sets of fingertips up to my temples, I performed a charade of a person in deep concentration. “Do you feel me?” I giggled while asking.
“I feel something, but I don’t think it’s what you were going for,” he growled in a deep tone and banded an arm across my back to hold me very close while he pushed his semi-erect cock up into me.
“You are insatiable,” I said through my chuckles.
Elijah stopped all motion and was very serious. He waited until he had my complete attention. No more shitty thoughts about his father, no more silly thoughts of sexy times that would make us late. He set me back on the love seat cushion in my original spot.
He turned and faced me fully while saying, “I owe you an apology.” Any further with the trajectory he was on, and he would’ve been on his knees between mine.
With his perfect face in my palms, I asked, “What are you talking about? Apology for what?”
“I truly wanted to share something with you. I should’ve left him out of the conversation. I know better because every memory involving that bastard turns sour in my mouth. His ghost has no business in the same room where your light is. Never again if I can help it.”
“Okay…” The word dripped with skepticism but went perfectly with the side-eye I shot his way. He sounded a touch unhinged, but I didn’t think now was the best time to point that out.
Instead, I made overexaggerated gestures while I spoke, falling back on my camp counselor training from three hundred thirty-four years ago.
“Let’s brush this family drama under the rug right here and move away from it.” I pointed down to my bare feet, using larger than necessary hand and head gestures. But it worked like a charm because he was following every broom sweep and thumb hitch I made. I finished with a mime sequence made of dusting off my hands, surveying my pretend handiwork, and giving myself a generous nod of approval. I grabbed the collar of his T-shirt and tugged him in for a kiss to wrap the whole scene up.
Silly me.
Elijah crashed into my mouth with a passionate kiss and didn’t release me for several minutes. Eventually, when he did step away, like a yo-yo on a string, he snapped right back to me and pressed his perfect lips to mine once more. No kissing this time, though. Instead, he gave a profound promise that I would never forget. No matter what happened between us down the road, I would never forget this moment.
Full, commanding, demanding lips melded into mine. “I’m never going to let you go.” Elijah bent down to even our lines of sight. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
Taking a couple of vital seconds to breathe, I nodded and stared. Stared and fell deeper. Harder? I wasn’t sure what the painful part of this equation would eventually feel like, but the very little bit of experience I had with men warned me it was going to be terrible when it did. No, scratch that. Devastating sounded more appropriate.
My God, help me. I’m falling in love with this man.
Did there have to be a bad part? Did I dare bring up the ten-car pileup equivalent of couple’s conversation topics with him? Maybe if we survived this family meet-and-greet tonight and no one lost an eye or any other vital body part, I could muster up the courage to talk about our future.
My stomach twisted in several knots at the thought of a Where do you see us in five years? talk with this man. But like every other time I was upset or anxious, he disarmed me with his captivatingly good looks and incapacitated me with his commanding demeanor. I never wanted him to change a thing.
When he was in this mood—demanding yet sexy and playful—I could feel a current of raw emotion humming at a low frequency right beneath the surface of his normal vivacity. It was as if he were waiting to feel something bigger or more intensely, but he didn’t know what, so he was unsettled. Almost jumpy. If action didn’t come to him, he went on the prowl—searching for the stimulation, the right combination of words or circumstance. It was exhilarating almost to the point of frightening to be caught up in the vortex of this man.
And I finally figured it out. Why the danger of not knowing what was around the next bend in the road was such a big thrill when I was with Elijah, when all my life I avoided those types of situations like the plague. Because Elijah always got behind the wheel. He was always in control, and I liked it that way.
I didn’t have to worry about taking care of him because he took care of himself and me. He wanted to take care of me. I wasn’t a burden or a nuisance to him like I felt with nearly everyone else in my life. And no amount of therapy could wash it away. The guilt was hardwired in my mental conduit.
“You were going to explain this inherent need to care for a woman.”
“Not a woman. You. Hannah.” He kissed my left eyelid right after it fluttered closed.
The involuntary response was my body’s way of showing gratitude for the delicious rasp in his voice. Between the warmth of his mouth on my skin and the sound of him saying my name with just the right measure of command and just the right degree of entreaty, I could feel a dark, needy pulse all the way down in my pussy.
“Rochelle.” My perfect lover dragged slow, burning kisses up and over the bridge of my nose to the other eyelid.
“Farsey.” Lastly, he pressed seeking lips to mine, and instantly, I parted for him. He didn’t waste time with more warm-up either. Just dived in and thrust his tongue halfway down my throat on the crest of my moan. Before I could comprehend what was happening, both his arms were around me, and he moved my body under his strong, potent one.
The love seat wasn’t long enough to accommodate our bodies by half, so when he released my mouth for an urgent breath, I realized he had moved us to the floor. As much as I wanted to go a round of dirty fucking before I finished getting ready, I knew a round could last hours with this man.
But he was on a mission and went straight for my kill zone, kissing and licking my ear, neck, and then moving downward. With his hips, he made ridiculous, thought-scrambling circles against my pussy. The barrier made of my jeans and the pair he’d just pulled on was the only thing in the way of a completely carnal connection.
I really couldn’t give up any amount of time. I’d scheduled the dinner at my parents’ house to celebrate my homecoming, technically making me the host. When I sneaked a glance at my watch and quickly calculated the commute from Malibu to Brentwood, I was completely into the emergency reserve minutes on my timetable.
My mom always insisted on being put to work, so when I’d called to set up the plans earlier that morning, I’d given her a grocery list to shop for before we arrived. She’d let me know that my sisters Maye and Clemson had invited their boyfriends, so we were going to have a nice, full house. The phone line had vibrated with her happiness and excitement at having such a full table for a nonholiday meal.
But that gave me an idea. It was playing a little dirty, but sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do.
“Oh my God.” I gave the comment some extra whine. “We should’ve been in the shower like…ten minutes ago. Do you think you can start peeling the carrots in the produce drawer while I’m in the shower?”
I tried to maneuver out of his embrace, but he had me in a vise grip.
“I’d walk over hot coals for you,” he offered in a voice so raspy I had to maneuver my clit around on the inside seam of my jeans to get at least some sort of stimulation.
He knew just by watching the expressions change on my face there was a war going on between my brain and my libido, and the battleground’s hotbed was right between my thighs. I was so damn horny, and if he didn’t move his ass and get in the shower…
Elijah, of course, had no intention of behaving.
Holding my gaze, he moved off me but issued a simple, “Stay.”
Without warning, he crammed his hand into the front of my jeans and immediately growled.
I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, as though it would put a stop to the delicious madness.
“Jesus Christ, Hannah. You’re so fucking wet. Let me take care of this, love.” He tugged at the moorings of my button fly, getting three of the five open before I regained enough sanity to stop him.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but no.” I cuffed his wrist with my hand and said, “Not now. Rain check?”
He picked his head up from the crook of my neck to meet my stare. The green of his irises was frosty and bright with lust and need.
“I absolutely need to taste you, Hannah. Right fucking now.”
“No. We don’t have time.”
“No, beauty. This is happening. Where’s your phone?”
Confused, I answered, “There on the bed, I think?”
“Stay,” he issued again, coupled with a serious look, and quickly got up, dashed across the room, grabbed my phone, and was back beside me on the floor of the bedroom’s sitting space.
“Unlock.” He held my phone in front of me for the facial recognition feature to unlock the screen and quickly typed a message while I watched.
Every time I started asking a question, he silenced me with a serious and stern look. I heard the sent message chime sound, and he tossed my phone onto the sofa.
“Now be a good girl and enjoy it like you’re supposed to. I just bought us twenty minutes, but the sooner you’re satisfied, the sooner we can leave. If I smell like your cunt when I meet your parents, well…” He shrugged like he had zero cares about the idea. “Now about this wet pussy.” He deftly found my clit and circled it with firm pressure.
“Elijah—”
“Unless you’re screaming my name or saying yes, more, or that’s so good…”
He locked my attention on to him. His voice, his smell, the beautiful cocky grin plastered across his lips. He knew he had me. He knew there was no way I’d turn him away now. Because we both knew how much he disliked lying, so as usual, he was totally telling the truth. My panties were wetter than I could ever remember them being.
It only took a few minutes for my orgasm to hit me like a fierce storm. My entire body trembled from the release, and my muscles felt like JELL-O afterward.
Elijah rested his head on my thigh, and I stroked my fingers through his hair until I contacted his scalp with my nails. He loved when I ran my fingernails across his head—said it was relaxing. So when his grin stretched so wide it was visible regardless of the fact he was facedown in my lap, unconsciously, mine stretched that wide too.
My God, help me. I am in love with this man.
I wanted to tell him. Just blurt it out and let the chips fall where they may. Of course, I didn’t.
Nor would I.
Elijah was still the same man who had the Los Angeles notoriety of fuck ’em and leave ’em. I’d be a fool to think this sheltered daddy’s girl could change the man whore or his philandering ways. For whatever reason, he was on a charity pilgrimage with me, and it was that simple. More than likely, as a favor to his best friend, Grant. That made the most sense, since that was how he came into my life in the first place.
I wanted to curl up against Elijah’s warm body and take a nap like we so often did after fooling around in the daytime, but I knew I was already on borrowed time. I wanted to ask him who he’d texted and what he’d said, but I was trying to make a valiant effort at trusting him, so I held my tongue.
A quick lip-lock to wrap up our alone time before we hopped into the shower and got ready. I had to dodge his advances and grabby hands while making sure I rinsed the conditioner from the depths of my long, thick hair. At our current pace, we’d be calling my parents with some lame excuse and instructing them to call Grubhub instead of having a home-cooked meal.
My gorgeous boyfriend emerged from his closet in body-hugging—but not tight—dark denim jeans. He wore the most handsome pair of caramel-colored wingtips that I had ever seen. The tips of the toes and the heels were a darkening gradient of the same tone. It made me think of a Siamese cat with its points.
The cat personality pretty much fit the man standing before me, too. My God…if I could read minds… I wondered if I’d want to know what he was thinking in that moment while I stared at him with open appreciation then nervously fidgeted with my own outfit.
I went with an olive-green flight suit that was a high-end designer replica of the one-piece coveralls fighter pilots wore. When I first got the suit, I wasn’t really sure about the look on me, but every time I wore it, I got so many compliments, so I figured why not?
I wanted to feel confident tonight, and I wanted to have my game face locked in place in case Sheppard started in on me. She usually loved embarrassing me in front of friends I brought home to introduce to our parents. Unfortunately, I usually played right into her hand.
I planned on having a talk about her habit with Elijah on our drive to my parents’ house so he knew what to expect. I certainly didn’t fear for his integrity, though. My guy could hold his own against the worthiest opponent.
Out in the garage, Elijah saw all the stuff I had packed in the back seat of my car earlier that afternoon. Again, with that ridiculous growling sound. There were occasions when it was hot and sexy, but this wasn’t one of those.
“Stop it.” I scowled and hit his chest with the backs of four fingers. Good Christ, the man was a solid wall. I narrowed my eyes and tried to look serious. “For real.”
But my posture was already wilting right alongside my mood, because I knew by his body language I’d just hit a hornet’s nest with a Wiffle ball bat. So, I braced for the impending showdown. I’d be damned if he was going to woo me with sex this time. I was on to his pattern now, and when all else failed, he came at me with that magic wand of his, and I was dusted. Not this time, though. I was ready. Mental chastity belt locked and loaded.
Instead, he calmly said, “Do you want me to drive separately?”
What the hell?
That was the fastest flip-flop this man had ever executed for my benefit. So while my stare seemed exceptionally appropriate to me, to Elijah it must have extended into the boundaries of concerning.
He gripped me by the tops of my arms, his hands so much larger than my frame that he could encompass the entire ball of my shoulder with his palm. The hold was much more than necessary to garner my attention, so he was either much more agitated than he was letting on, or the man was just that clueless about his own strength.
My bet was on the former.
“You’re hurting me,” I spat through clenched teeth.
There was some sort of memory clawing at my chest. Pushing down so I couldn’t breathe. It would sit there and become heavier and heavier. I knew it. I fucking knew it. By the time I realized what was coming, it was too late to save myself.
I can’t breathe. “You’re hurting me,” I cry, but his ugly smile just gets uglier. My throat is closing in on itself. “I can’t breathe,” I whisper so I won’t use as much air. My vision is getting smaller, and that doesn’t make sense. I have excellent eyesight. Daddy always says I do. Daddy says I am his perfect little girl. Not anymore. Not when he finds out about this.
Why? Why is he doing this? Kick. Kick. Scream. But I can’t. His palm is over my mouth, and it smells bad. No. No. Stop this. I don’t want this. I need air.
“You’re hurting me!” I shout when he shifts to unbuckle his belt. Finally, he lets go of my shoulder, and I yell loud enough to make him stop.
“Kick. Kick, kick as hard as you can! If anyone ever tries to hurt you again like those people in the bathroom on your birthday, you kick and scream and do everything you can to attract attention. Kick like you do in the pool,” my daddy encouraged when we talked about this awful stuff. I got really quiet, which he took for my serious face. He didn’t know it was my petrified face and that I’d already peed in my pants when he came into my room and said we needed to have a grown-up talk.
I was sure they’d found out. He and Mommy found out, and they were going to give me away just like the man said they would if I ever told. I was going to have to figure out what to do with my jeans and bedding when he left.
“Fuck! Hannah! Come on, baby. Breathe, please. Look at me. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help you. Please, beautiful girl. Please look at me.”
Elijah’s strong, clear voice broke through the traumatic flashback, and it came crashing to an end. Thank God. But then the realization hit me. I couldn’t level my gaze with his. I started rocking in place. I wasn’t even sure where that was…
Oh no.
No. Not again.
I was so afraid to look up and see exactly where I was. It was always the worst part of these. Discovering who witnessed it happen this time. Now there was another person in on my secret. Another person I’d have to explain things I didn’t understand myself. Another person…who would know what a sham I was.