Chapter 23 Regret #2
I rolled my hips once—just a slight shift, barely anything—but El groaned against my mouth, his grip bruising now. His fingers flexed like he was resisting the urge to take more.
“Ellie…” His voice was like a warning.
But I wasn’t looking for warnings.
I smirked, dragging my lips to his jaw, feeling the way his breath hitched as I moved against him again, but this time slower. Deliberate.
The way he tensed beneath me sent a sharp thrill up my spine. His hands slid down my sides, settling at my hips. Something in his expression snapped.
He leaned back, giving me space—but it wasn’t retreating. No, it was an invitation.
So I took it.
I gave him my back and leaned into him. I settled there against his chest, rolling my hips to the rhythm of the music, my hands sliding up his thighs, fingers curling in the fabric of his pants.
I decided to look up at him. His jaw was clenched, eyes dark, his hands still gripping my hips, like he couldn’t decide if he should stop me or encourage me.
I made the decision for him. Well, me and the alcohol.
“You’re allowed to touch, you know.”
El cursed. He let go of my hips and let his hands tangle in my hair, dragging me against him as his mouth found mine again.
This time with none of the restraint from before.
I didn’t even fight for dominance. He took over completely, breathing me in and letting his hands roam wherever they wanted, finally landing on my thighs.
I began rolling my hips again, slowly dragging my hands up to his chest, and that’s when I felt it. The sharp inhale. The slightest tension in his muscles as he pulled away.
“Ellie… are you not wearing panties?” His voice was low and rough in my ear.
I smiled innocently, leaning in just enough that my lips brushed his jaw. “Well, I’m wearing a dress, am I not?”
El swore under his breath, then without another word, he kissed me one last time. And when he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his eyes dark as he murmured, “Let’s go home.”
I swallowed hard, heat pooling low in my stomach.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Let’s.”
?
Every step in El’s driveway was a painful reminder of the cursed heels I’d been in all night. He led the way, fingers laced in mine, tugging just enough to keep me close.
He hadn’t said much on the drive home. Just kept one hand on the wheel, jaw tight, eyes forward like he was thinking. I’ve never seen him so serious or so focused.
Once inside, I slid off my coat, watching him carefully.
“You okay?” I asked, a little hesitant.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” El barely glanced at me as he pointed at my shoes. “You need help?”
“Yes, please.”
He crouched down, and I braced a hand on his back for support as he worked the straps loose. The second they were off, I kicked them aside with a relieved sigh.
El stood, and for a brief moment, he just looked at me.
Then he leaned in. My eyes fluttered shut, waiting for him to kiss me but he didn’t.
I barely even registered the sound of my zipper being undone.
Cool air kissed my skin as my dress pooled at my feet. I stiffened, and my hands flew up to cover my now-exposed body.
I stepped out of the dress, moving instinctively to grab something—anything—to cover myself, but El’s hand on my forearm stopped me. He turned me to face him. Slowly. Then, gently, his hands found mine, easing my arms away and baring me completely to his gaze.
He looked.
Not in a way that felt rushed or fleeting.
He took his time.
His eyes roamed my body, dark and heavy with something I didn’t have a name for. And then, without a word, he dipped his head and buried his face in my neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to my skin.
Heat shot straight through me. My toes curled against the hardwood.
His clean, warm scent wrapped around me, pulling me deeper into the feeling of his lips trailing lower and his hands smoothing down my back.
By the time he reached my lips, his arms wrapped around me, scooping me up like I weighed nothing.
I was already gone. I didn’t even realize we had made it to his bedroom.
El laid me down at the edge of the mattress, his touch careful and deliberate. He stood between my legs, his gaze heavy as he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.
I swallowed hard.
He unfastened his belt next, letting his pants slide to the floor before crawling over me, his warmth settling against my skin. His lips found my neck, trailing lower, leaving a path of heat wherever they landed.
I wanted to let go.
I loved the way he felt against me. But reactively, my hands came up between us, pressing against his shoulders for the briefest second before falling away.
El stilled.
His forehead rested against mine, breath warm. Then he pulled back just enough to look at me.
“What’s wrong?” he breathed out.
“Nothing.”
His eyes searched mine. “Nothing?”
I shook my head in response.
“Do you need a break?”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
He kept on observing me, trying to come to his own conclusion. Then, once he completed his study, he exhaled through his nose. “Elliot, are you okay with this?”
“Yes.” I insisted, but my voice wavered.
His lips parted like he wanted to believe me but decided he knew better.
“No, you’re not,” he murmured. His fingers traced the bare skin of my arm. “You’re shaking.”
I swallowed. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Just… keep going.”
But he was already moving. Already climbing off me, stalking across the room, and reaching for something in his dresser.
I sat up in confusion. “El?”
He didn’t answer right away. He just turned back to me and handed me a T-shirt. Still confused, I took it and rested it next to me. Quietly, I watched as he stepped into sweats he had pulled from the same drawer.
“What’s wrong?”
He kept his back turned to me for a long moment before he finally spoke. “I’m not doing it like this.”
My eyebrows furrowed together.
“Like what?” I asked, my voice tight.
He faced me. “You’re drunk and scared.”
My mouth parted slightly. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. It’s written all over you, Elliot. I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re trembling.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling suddenly exposed. “It’s just cold in here.”
“Liar.”
“I want to do this.”
He nodded. “I’m sure you do. And we will, when you can handle it.”
I exhaled sharply. “I can handle it.”
“No, Elliot,” he said, voice softer now. “You’re buzzed and looking to blow off steam. That might be enough for you at this moment, but it’s not enough for me.”
I couldn’t be more offended if he had slapped me across the face.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
El let out a shaky breath. “It means I’m not gonna have you like this. You’ll regret it in the morning, and it’ll be awkward. I don’t want that. When I have you for the first time, Elliot—” He looked at me then, something dark and certain in his gaze. “It’ll be when you’re ready.”
I rolled my eyes at his sudden chivalry, shoving past him as I yanked the T-shirt over my head.
“You’re so full of it, El. Where was this concern at the club? First, you want me, then you don’t—”
He caught my wrist gently, just enough to make me look at him. “I never said I didn’t want you, Elliot. I said not like this.”
I met his gaze then, searching it for something—anything—that wasn’t pity. But that’s all I found.
I yanked my arm free. “Whatever.”
Humiliation burned through me, I needed to get out.
“Elliot.”
“I’m going home.”
I reached the front door, grabbed my coat, and wrapped my fingers around the doorknob.
But before I could pull it open, El’s hand slammed it shut.
I spun around. “What the hell are you doing?”
“You’re not going out there at two in the morning.”
“I want to go home!”
He sighed, voice low. “Peanut… you don’t even have on underwear. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I’m leaving, Elliot. You can’t stop me.” I could barely stand straight.
His jaw clenched. He studied me, shoulders tight, eyes burning.
Then, before I could react, his hands were on my waist, and my feet left the ground.
“El, what the—put me down!” I kicked against him as he threw me over his shoulder, carrying me up the stairs like I weighed nothing.
“You need to sleep this off,” he said, calm as ever. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
I shoved at his back, rage bubbling up. “I wanna get away from you! Put me down!”
He exhaled sharply. “I’ll put you down. And I’ll give you your space, okay?”
He pushed open a door and stepped inside. Then, carefully, he set me down.
“The guest room?” I scoffed.
“You can stay here tonight,” he said, voice steady. “Then tomorrow, you can leave.”
“Fine!” I snapped, turning away. “Just get out! I don’t want to see you.”
His voice was softer now. “Goodnight, Peanut.”
The door shut behind him.
And the second it did, I climbed into bed, pulling the covers over my head—and sobbed.