13. Elijah
She’s sitting on a stool, her legs crossed, her dress hugging her body in all the right places. I can’t help but stare at her, my eyes tracing her curves, the swell of her breasts, and the way her hips sway as she shifts in her seat.
Bringing the liquid to my lips, my eyes lock with hers over the rim of the glass.
Whiskey. Is she that distressed?
I put the glass on the bar out of her reach and step closer.
Her skin is so soft under my fingertips. I let them trail from her shoulder to her arm, watching goosebumps rise across it. Our eyes lock, and a hunger stirs inside me.
She’s so close, and with Esther gone, I’m hyperaware of her body inches from mine. A touch I don’t mind compared to Esther’s. A feeling I missed.
“Would you please give us a moment?” I motion with my head for the bartender to leave.
He nods and slips out, closing the door behind him.
Being near her electrifies my senses, but her avoidance of me nags at the back of my mind. I step in closer, crowding her space. A hint of her floral perfume surrounds me.
My voice comes out soft yet demanding. “Why didn’t you come to our date? And why did you ignore my messages?”
I watch the emotions play across her face.
Confusion?
Fear?
Her eyes dart around the room, looking anywhere but directly at me. She presses her lips together as if to trap the words before they can escape. Her fingers fumble with the straps of her bag. I can almost hear the gears grinding in her head as she grasps for the right thing to say.
After an endless moment, she meets my gaze again.
“Is this some kind of game to you? You’re married.” Her voice quivers. “To Esther.”
A pang of remorse tugs at me. I should have stopped Esther from running her mouth in this gossip-hungry crowd.
“If anything, engaged.”
Her shaky breath draws my attention to the enticing curve of her neck.
“How long have you been engaged?” She emphasizes the last word.
“Is that jealousy I hear?”
A pretty blush stains her cheeks as she scoffs. “Hardly. You’re engaged.”
She wants me, engaged or not. I need to break through her stubborn resistance first.
I reach out, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze. Her eyes widen. Uncertainty and something else swirling in their depths, but she doesn’t pull away.
My thumb caresses her cheek softly. Since she pulled that stunt out there, I have this constant urge to touch her. I tried to stay away, but you provoked me.
“Then what is it?” I ask.
She blinks like she’s fighting back tears. “Nothing. I don’t even know you.”
She has no idea how much it kills me. I let my hand drop with a frustrated sigh. Too stubborn for her own good. I want to change that.
“Ask me anything.”
“Right now?”
“If it helps.”
“Okay… How long have you been engaged to Esther?”
I laugh under my breath. “Straight to the hard questions.” I meet her gaze. “It’s barely been three months. A business arrangement. Nothing real.”
Something like relief flickers in her eyes, and I prefer that look on her face.
“My turn,” I say, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Why did you run that morning?”
“It was a one-night stand. Didn’t think I would get pancakes and orange juice in bed.”
Noted.
“Did you lead Esther on? She has a ring. I don’t do taken men.”
“Did she now?” My lips twist. Fucking Esther ruining everything. “I’m afraid Esther is prone to wishful thinking. While she may desire to become Mrs. Milton, I have no intention of actually marrying her.”
“Why should I believe you? It’s not like Esther seems to think it’s—”
I press my hand against the small of her back, pulling her closer to me as I lean in. Her scent surrounds me, floral and sweet.
“You shouldn’t.” My eyes drop to her lips. “But I’m still asking you to trust me.”
Her breath catches, and she places a hand on my chest. Not to push me away but to steady herself.
“Esther’s assumptions are her own. I made it very clear to her. My interests lie elsewhere. With you.”
“Elijah...” My name on her lips sends a spark through me. No one says my name like she does.
I brush my thumb along her cheek. “You want this. Us.” I pause, searching her eyes. “Unless I’m mistaken?”
No nod, no shaking her head.
“I already called you my wife, little gem. I thought I made my intentions very clear, but you didn’t come and even blocked my number. Needless to say, I’m still a bit hurt about that.”
“It was a one-night stand.”
Why doesn’t she give in? I know she wants to.
“We can keep dancing around this thing between us, or you can admit you want me as much as I want you.”
“I don’t want you.”
Does she think I can’t see through her? Please, someone hold me back, or I will fuck that stubbornness out of her.
“Your eyes and your body tell a different story.”
“Maybe you’re reading them wrong.”
“Or maybe you’re scared of what you might find if you stop lying to yourself.”
No retort. I lean in closer, my nose grazing hers, our breaths mingling. Her lips part in anticipation.
“One chance,” I say. “That’s all I’m asking.”
I wait, giving her the option to pull away. But she doesn’t. Instead, her eyes flutter closed, and my lips find hers, soft and warm.
The kiss deepens instantly, weeks of tension pouring out. She sighs into my mouth as my tongue slips past her lips to caress hers. I could get drunk on her taste.
Her arms wrap around my neck, eliminating any remaining space between us, and my hands grab her ass, pulling her against me. She melts into me, every line of her body fitting to mine. Like she’s made for me.
We break apart, breathless. She falls back onto the stool, her cheeks flushed and lips swollen from my kiss.
She’s never looked more beautiful.
The waiting is over. I can’t resist her any longer. I’ve watched her from afar, my desire for her growing with each passing day. The way she moves, the way she laughs, the way she looks at me. It’s all driving me insane.
“I’ve watched you long enough. Dating other men when I know you want something else,” I say.
“And what is it you think I want?” She tries so hard, feigning indifference and trying to sound defiant, but the tremor in her voice betrays her.
Towering over her, I grip the side of the stool with one hand while my other hand drifts up her bare leg through the tantalizing slit of her dress. Her breathing gets uneven as I lean down to kiss her neck.
“Elijah.” She whimpers when I bite down gently.
Fuck, I’m hard.
I release her skin from my teeth, breathing in her scent. “Yes, my precious gem?”
Her eyes are glazed with want as my fingers trace circles over her skin. I can see the struggle, her desperation to beg me for more, warring with her pride. My grip on the stool tightens as I fight for control over my own raging need.
“Do you want me?” I brush my lips against her ear.
It’s the same question she asked me the night I met her, and I hope her answer will be the same as mine.
I wait with bated breath, my heart pounding in my ears and the seconds tick by agonizingly slow as Gemma stays silent, searching my eyes.
“I asked you a question.” I grip her thigh harder, feeling the smooth skin underneath the silky fabric.
Still, she says nothing, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Fuck it.
I crush my lips against hers, tasting the whiskey she drank earlier. Gemma gasps into my mouth but doesn’t pull away, instead bringing her hands up to grip my shirt. I deepen the kiss, my tongue tangling with hers.
The sweet little moans she makes have me straining against my pants.
I break the kiss, both of us breathing hard.
Locking eyes with her, I repeat myself. “Do you want me, Gemma?”
I can see the conflict in her eyes as she bites her lower lip, and I take the opportunity to move my hand up her leg.
“Yes or no. I need to hear you say it.”
Submitting at last, she nods.
But it’s not enough.
I stop my caresses. “Beg me.”
She closes her eyes, clenching her thighs. I dart my tongue out, soothing the spot I bit down on earlier. She tries so hard, but her body doesn’t lie.
“Please.”
The word is barely out of her mouth when I crush my lips back to hers. Our tongues meet hungrily as we cling together. Nothing else matters except for her and how bad I need her right now.
Mine. She’s fucking mine.
“Finally.” My hand wanders between her thighs as I keep kissing her neck.
Her body betrays her. Every inch of her skin begs for me to take her, to ravish her in ways that make her scream with pleasure. And I will gladly do so, giving her exactly what she craves until she’s left gasping and spent before me.
My fingers tease the sensitive area dangerously close to her core. Drawing closer and closer to where she craves my touch most.
She gasps as I slip past the fabric, caressing her bare, slick pussy.
“Dripping wet for me.” I ravish her neck with my lips.
She moans and lets her head fall against me as I push two fingers inside her. She wants me, and I sure as fuck want her.
My movements are gentle yet demanding, pushing her closer and closer to the edge with each stroke.
With the need to see her, I close my free hand around her throat, my fingers digging into her flesh. I force her to look at me, taking in the blissful torment written across her face. Perfect.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Even work couldn’t distract me. You irritate me, blocked me, and go on dates with other men. Although you’re mine.”
I sink another finger inside her, evoking a louder moan as her nails sink into my sleeve. My thumb finds its mark on her clit, pressing lightly but firm enough to draw another gasp from her.
She’s close now, her breath coming faster, her cheeks flushed pink.
I whisper against her ear in a sultry voice. “Come for me.”
Her hips begin thrusting against my hand as I increase the pressure on her clit and curl my fingers inside her.
Before she erupts, a knock interrupts us, and I catch sight of one of her friends looking through the door slit, her grin widening as her eyes land on us, only slightly hidden by the bar.
Good job, cuz. You’re supposed to make sure no one comes in.
“Here you are. Be right back,” her friend says.
Luckily, she disappears and closes the door behind her.
Gemma’s hand closes around my wrist, holding it in place. “Stop.”
“The fuck I will.”
I continue fucking her with my fingers and circling her nub, forcing her back to the edge of surrender she was hovering over a few seconds ago.
Until she’s mine again.
Our eyes stay locked.
Until she can’t think of anyone but me.
It only takes a few more thrusts of my fingers for her to cry out and arch her back. To muffle her screams, I crush my lips to hers and move one arm around her waist, keeping her from falling off the stool.
Once the last wave has passed, I slowly withdraw my fingers, and she collapses against me, spent and exhausted. I stroke her hair, pressing soft kisses to her forehead.
She’s so beautiful, with that hazy, soft, and vulnerable look in her eyes and her lips still swollen. Leaning in, I capture them in a gentle kiss.
“What a shame. I wasn’t even nearly done with you.”
She clenches her thighs.
Without breaking eye contact, I lift my glistening fingers to my mouth and suck her juices from them. A groan rumbles through my chest. I want nothing more than to bend her over the bar and pound into her with my throbbing cock.
Next time.
Gemma averts her eyes and moves to get off the stool, stumbling forward. I catch her with my arm. Can she stop running for one second?
“Are you okay?”
She nods against my chest, and I tighten my grip on her, not ready to let her go.
“Elijah?”
“Yes?” I inhale the scent of her hair.
“Lil will be back any second.”
I press a soft kiss to her hair before letting go.
She straightens her dress while I text Connor that we’re in the clear.
As the phone slips back into my pocket, her friend returns with company, smirks on both their faces.
Cuz… you have some explaining to do.