Chapter 17 #2
“What have I told you about talking about yourself that way?” He growls and the sound rumbles through every part of me.
“You are sweet and kind to worry about me, Ellie, which comes as no surprise, because you’re one of the sweetest, kindest souls I’ve ever met.
But let me assure you, I absolutely did not invite you to that party to be my chaperone.
I’m constantly surrounded by people who drink or take drugs.
My brothers sink enough Scotch on an annual basis to keep an entire distillery in business.
My sobriety is my responsibility alone. There are many reasons I like being around you, but none of them involve you helping me stay sober. You’re not my sponsor.”
He inches forward, closing the distance between us. Now there’s him—a wall of solid muscle—there’s the door, and between them, trapped and trembling, is little old me.
“I do think it’s kind of cute that you were so worried about me.” He takes a half step, and, oh wow, he’s almost touching me. So close I can actually feel the heat of his body radiating onto my skin. “And besides…” he adds.
“Besides what, Maddox?” My voice shakes as much as my legs. Am I imagining this? We’ve been physically close before, but this feels so very different. This is intense. He’s gazing at me like he wants to devour me whole, and there’s a dark fire in his eyes that both terrifies and excites me.
“There is only one vice I’m ever close to giving in to when I’m around you, Ellie.
” He pulls his key from his pocket and reaches behind me before quickly opening the door.
I stagger back and he catches my wrist before walking inside, pushing me into his apartment along with him.
“Now. Tell me why you didn’t come to the party last night. ”
I stare up at him, my breathing and my heart rate erratic, but I don’t answer. I can’t.
“Ellie?” He’s saying my name again, in that firm tone I’ve never heard from him before. The tone that makes me want to drop to my knees and call him sir, or daddy. Or whatever the hell he wants me to call him.
I suck in a breath and squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, trying to block out the thoughts flooding through me. This cannot be real. This cannot be real.
Except it is. Opening my eyes again, I find him still searching my face. “You really want to know?”
“Yes,” he says, voice a raspy growl. “I really want to know.”
Here goes nothing. “Because I like you, Mad. I really like you, and not just as a friend. I do love being your friend, and I’m not saying that has to change, but I don’t think it’s enough for me.
It’s too hard, being around you so much when I feel this way and when I know you don’t.
Or you choose not to, or whatever. I know it’s complicated, and I know neither of us has done anything wrong, but I can’t carry on like this.
We can’t keep being each other’s go-to person. ”
“Why not?”
“Because it hurts too much, okay? It hurts too much to keep doing this with you when I want so much more,” I blurt out the words like it’s hurting me to keep them in.
As I talk, he’s herding me toward the wall in his hallway. I stumble backwards, dropping my gym bag and my purse onto the floor, delicious panic rising in my chest. Messed-up as it might be, him stalking towards me, so dark and intent, is doing something for me. I’m practically panting here.
“What makes you think I don’t want more too?”
My heart is about to hammer out of my chest. I must have fallen asleep on the cab ride here. This has to be a dream. “Because you don’t date.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve never actually said that, have I?”
“No, but...I’ve never known you go on a date. And there’s, uh, the other thing.”
He shrugs. “Dating can be difficult when you’re celibate, I guess. But I still enjoy the company of women. I still like spending time with them. One in particular, actually.”
He’s edging even closer, an apex predator closing in on his prey. Which I guess is me—the na?ve little baby gazelle walking right into the jaws of the lion. This is a whole different side to Maddox. He’s dominant, alpha, hotter than the surface of the sun. “Th-that’s what I mean. The celibacy.”
He runs a single fingertip over my cheek, and somehow I feel that barely-there touch right between my thighs. “I guess I really should do something about that, then.”
I don’t have time to speak, or act, or even think, because Maddox James kisses me. He seals those wickedly delicious lips over mine and slips his tongue inside my mouth.
He kisses me like I’m the air he needs to breathe. He kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before, and it is ev-er-y-thing. Far from being complicated and messy, nothing in my entire life has ever felt so right.
For a long moment, I let him devour me, my back pressed flat to the wall while I recover from the shock and simultaneously melt into the brick.
Then his hand slides over my hip, dangerously close to my ass, and it wakes me up from my dream-like state.
This is actually happening. I’ve fantasized about kissing this man since the moment I met him, and now it’s really happening.
And it’s better than I could even have imagined.
I sink my fingers into his thick dark hair and pull him closer, dragging his body flush with mine. He groans into my mouth, nipping at my lip before pulling back, leaving us both panting for breath. “Fuck, Ellie, I have wanted to kiss you for so fucking long.”
“Then why did you wait all this time?”
He smirks, obviously enjoying the way he’s reduced me to mush with one touch of his lips. “I wanted to be sure first. I needed to be sure that it’s what we both wanted. Because I knew this wouldn’t just be a kiss. I knew kissing you would lead to so much more.”
“More?”
He hums, running his nose over my neck. “There are so many parts of you I want to taste, baby.”
Baby. Oh my goddess, hearing him speak like that is driving me wild.
I would surely melt into a puddle if he wasn’t holding me up.
Then he lifts me, like I weigh ninety pounds instead of almost double that, and wraps my legs around his waist. The hard length of him presses against my center, making me so desperate for him that I instinctively grind against his body.
He grunts and lets out a string of Spanish curses.
I don’t know what they mean, but they sound hot.
He walks into his bedroom, me clinging on to him, and lays me gently on the bed.
The bed where I slept alone just a couple of nights ago, imagining exactly this.
I glance up at him from between my lashes and gasp at what I see.
He towers above me, his face filled with hunger, his rigid cock a clear outline beneath his shorts.
I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
His eyes rake over me greedily as he drinks me in, then sinks to his knees on the carpet and starts pulling off my right sneaker.
Oh, good goddess. What the hell are we doing here? “M-Maddox, are you sure?”
He nods, grinning, and then tosses my shoe over his shoulder. It clatters off the wall. “Yes. I’m fucking sure. Are you?”
I nod enthusiastically, terrified he might stop.
Come to his senses and change his mind. I bite down on my lip while he removes my other shoe.
And then he’s pulling off my grippy socks, peeling off my leggings, and it’s all happening so fast. I tense, suddenly very aware of the scars at the tops of my inner thighs.
My heart starts to flutter behind my breastbone.
“Why aren’t you wearing panties, baby?”
Crap. Forgot about that too. And he just called me baby again.
If I were wearing panties, they would have melted off me anyway.
So many emotions and feelings are rushing around my head.
It’s spinning so much I grasp the sheets in my palms to try and steady myself.
“I went to Pilates this morning, and I don’t wear them for class.
” I hate the way they wriggle up my ass crack, but I don’t tell him that.
He tips his head back and groans. “You are a naughty fucking girl.”
Yes, yes I am. Getting naughtier by the second.
I suck in a shuddering breath and force myself to calm down, to chase away any nerves and enjoy the moment.
This is Maddox. He’s my best friend. So what if he’s going to see my scars—he already knows about them.
I’m safe with him. He won’t judge me, and he doesn’t even have to look at them if they turn him off. He could close his eyes.
I contemplate pressing my legs together so they’re less noticeable, but he has other ideas, and none of them seem to involve me keeping my legs closed.
He crawls onto the bed, and his palms land on the insides of my knees before he pushes them wider apart.
“Let me see you, El,” he growls, strong hands gliding up the soft skin of my thighs.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Breathe, Ellie.
His fingertips glide over the silvery-white stripes that crisscross the tops of my legs.
I close my eyes, so self-conscious now, feeling so exposed.
I’m hoping that he’ll quickly move on, or maybe that he’s not even looking at them at all.
But then his mouth brushes the skin there, and he tenderly kisses a path along each one.
Letting me know he sees them. Letting me know he doesn’t find them repulsive. That he wants all of me.
I push up onto my elbows, and the sight that I’m greeted with almost unravels me. Maddox James’s head between my thighs, his mouth trailing over my skin. Even in my wildest dreams, I never thought it would feel this good. “Fuck, Ellie, you smell incredible, baby. Can I taste you?”