Chapter 16 Daniel #2
My eyes widened at his accusation, and angry, I clenched my jaw.
“You’re pushing the limit—”
“No, you’re pushing it.” His stare hardened.
“When you follow me with your eyes like a lovestruck fool and speak to me so gently, like I’m important…
when you watch me undress, and when you’re getting jealous that someone else is speaking to me.
You’re always pushing it. Pushing me.” He paused and pursed his lips, a mean look on his face.
“What? Were you scared I’d run off with the tennis coach? Is that why you fired him?”
A wave of rage crashed over me, swiping away all rational thought, and unable to come up with a response, I just stared at him. What was there for me to even say? But then I realized something…
This wasn’t the time for talking.
“You’re a little man—”
Before he could finish off his sentence, I grabbed his body and pulled him toward me until his chest crushed against mine.
Then, without wasting a breath, I kissed him.
Only this kiss wasn’t gentle and playful, but heated and desperate.
Holding him close, as if scared he’d truly run away, I violated his mouth with all the pent-up lust he’d put in me.
Elliot didn’t resist and instead opened his mouth, allowing me to push my tongue in.
Consumed by his taste, I walked us backward until his back hit the wall, my mouth not leaving his the whole time.
Elliot moaned into the kiss, his fists grasping the fabric of my shirt as he pulled me closer.
The sound of his voice nearly cost me my sanity, and I sucked on his tongue, my hands gripping him hard until he shoved his thigh between my legs and pressed it to my erection.
I groaned at the friction and pushed against his thigh while I licked into his willing mouth.
I was hot, needy, and eager, but mostly greedy and desperate for more.
What he was giving me wasn’t enough, and I ached with burning need.
Elliot tugged on my bottom lip, and I nearly ripped his clothes off his body, but instead, I removed my hands from around him and pressed them against the wall.
Frustrated that I couldn’t take him to bed, I tore my lips from his. “I’m sorry. I’ve lost my control—”
“Non.” He placed his hand on my chest and walked me backward until my hips bucked against the counter.
Then, he was on me, both hands cupping my jaw as he slammed our mouths together.
I closed my eyes as heat rushed through me and quickly wrapped my arms around his smaller body and pulled him close until he nearly climbed on top of me.
Elliot’s hips pushed against mine, and I could feel his excitement bulging through his pants—the same as my own.
I was bursting with lust, and eager to feel more of him, I slipped my hand underneath his shirt while he ran his fingers through my hair.
It was all about rushed kisses and stolen touches until it stopped, and he pulled back, his forehead pressed to mine.
Slowly, I slipped my hands down to his narrow waist as our heaving breaths filled the room.
Elliot’s eyes dipped down to my bruised lip before he brought his fingers to caress the place where he’d bitten me.
“You want me.”
It wasn’t a question but a declaration, and feeling more raw than ever before, I swallowed hard and nodded.
“I-I do.” The words barely escaped my mouth before his eyes met mine.
“I won’t ask you to leave her or to come out to the world.” He traced his finger along my jawline. “I only ask you to trust me.”
I moved my hand to his nape and kept him close.
“I will,” I promised, despite not knowing what I’d just committed to.
His lips stretched to the sides, creating the most astonishing smile that tempted me to leap in and steal another kiss.
I probably would have if not for the footsteps we heard coming from afar that made us both jolt away from one another as if our touches could kill.
Elliot was back at the stove by the time Father walked into the kitchen, an unimpressed look on his face.
I quickly shoved my hands into my trousers pockets, hoping it would make my erection less evident, as I pushed back from the counter.
“Father—”
“Why are you here?” he snarled, his eyes darting to Elliot and back to me.
“I wanted to wash my face.”
He gave me one questioning eyebrow. “In the kitchen?”
“Well, it’s closer than our bathroom.” I tried smiling, but it didn’t work. “I was just about to come back upstairs. Should we go?”
“What’s your name?”
My father’s question was followed by lingering silence until Elliot turned from the sink to face him.
“What’s the matter with this idiot?” Father hissed, and I wished to punch the mocking smile off his face. “Come on, boy, answer me at once.”
“Pardon? Je ne parle pas anglais,” Elliot said back with a simple smile, and I tried to hold back a laugh because wasn’t he wonderful?
“What was that, son? What’s he saying?” Father asked me.
Self-satisfied, I walked closer to my dad. “He’s saying that he can’t understand English.”
“Et que c’est un con,” Elliot shamelessly added.
My eyes darted to his to catch him smiling after he’d just called my father an asshole to his face. But knowing better than to push my luck, I placed my hand on Father’s shoulder.
“Let’s go back to the table. I’ve just remembered I have a fine bottle of scotch I’m sure you’d love.”
“I highly doubt that you do, but sure,” he muttered.
Elliot’s boldness must have been contagious because, as I led Father out of the room, I quickly glanced at my sassy French prince and shot him a wink. Elliot’s lips broke into a broad smile, and he shook his head before returning to his cooking, hopefully just as lovestruck as I was at that moment.