Chapter 24 Consequence
Consequence.
A shrill alarm clock jolted me from the depths of sleep, dragging me back to reality.
The only thing keeping me from groaning in frustration was the warmth beneath me—the stubborn fool who had his arm wrapped snugly around my waist, my frame draped over his chest. I mumbled incoherently, still half-asleep, my head pounding in protest.
I really needed to take a break from drinking.
“Elliot,” I muttered, my voice raspy from sleep. “What part of ‘I want to be alone’ did you not understand?”
A deep, sleepy hum vibrated against my ear.
“What?” he mumbled with exhaustion.
I cracked one eye open, barely lifting my head. “Why are you in my bed?”
Silence.
I blinked blearily up at him. His eyes were still shut, his breathing steady.
“Take a look around before you come at me,” he murmured.
I frowned, taking in the familiar room, the dark walls, the faint scent of cedar, and fresh linen.
Oh. I wasn’t in the guest room bed.
I was in his.
Shit.
I groaned, letting my head fall back onto his chest. “What the hell? Did you carry me down here?”
Elliot exhaled a small laugh. “Thought about it. But you showed up all on your own. Half-asleep, whining about needing to cuddle. So, I let you in.”
I closed my eyes. Shit, shit, shit.
I whispered, “You shouldn’t have let me stay.”
He shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable beneath me, his arms still securely around my waist.
“Would you have preferred I let you out at two in the morning without underwear?”
My eyes snapped open.
“Not that!” I hissed, my face burning. “I meant you shouldn’t have let me in here. Not after last night.”
Silence again. Then softly, he confessed. “I’ll never turn my back on you if you need me, Elliot.”
I froze at his words, resting my head against his chest again, cursing myself for finding comfort in something as simple as this. “Thank you.”
“But I do think you should stop drinking so much,” he said quietly.
I pulled back slightly to look up at him. “What makes you say that?”
“Last night.”
“I’m grown, Elliot. I can make my own choices.”
“That’s just it, though. When you’re drunk, you don’t act like yourself.”
I searched his face. “What do you mean?”
“Peanut, you were out of control last night. One minute you were fine, and the next you freaked out, then five seconds later, you’re yelling at me because I didn’t want to have sex.”
Shame curled in my chest. “I—I didn’t realize. I’m sorry. But that was one time. You’re acting like I have a problem.”
He lifted a brow. “Ellie, I’ve seen you pour liquor in your coffee before.”
Heat flushed my face. I didn’t think he’d notice that. I’ve thought I’d always been discreet about it. Embarrassment gripped me—not just for the drinking but for the way he looked at me now.
“I’ll slow down,” I offered.
“I know you will,” he said casually. “Because I took your flask.”
My head shot up. “What? When?”
“Last night. While you were sleeping.”
I stared at him. “So what, I act a little crazy, and you decide to punish me?”
“You think that’s a punishment?”
“I think it’s an attempt at one.”
He gave a soft, dry laugh. “Do you think monitoring my blood sugar is a punishment for me?”
I pressed my lips together. “That’s different.”
“No, it’s not. I care about your health like you care about mine.”
“No,” I said, the sting sharper than I meant. “You just don’t trust me.”
He didn’t flinch. “No, Peanut. I trust you to be wrapped in grief for years to come. I trust you to hide it and bury yourself in the nearest bottle. I trust you to tell me you’re fine when you’re not. I trust you to go too far, to overdo it.”
“Then you don’t know me.”
He gave a slow shake of his head. “Oh, I know you. I was you. And I know this isn’t ideal, and there are better ways we can handle it, but this is at least a step in the right direction.”
I dropped my gaze to his chest again, silent.
“Are you disappointed in me?” I whispered.
El didn’t hesitate. “No, Peanut. You’re young, and you’re going through a lot.
I don’t expect you to have all the answers or make the right decisions all the time.
Hell, I don’t even have the right answers most of the time.
But this?” He paused. “This is manageable. We can fix it before it gets out of control.”
“How?” I asked quietly.
“Let’s start small,” he said. “A month dry. Just one month. If that’s too hard, we can talk about some other options like counseling.”
I sank against his chest again, my cheek pressed to his warm skin as I stared at the lamp on his nightstand. I let out a slow, tired sigh.
“Okay,” I said.
His fingers drifted gently up and down my spine in a soothing rhythm. “You ready to talk about last night?”
“Not yet.”
El exhaled through his nose, not frustrated—just careful. “Why not?”
I hesitated. “It’s scary to think about.”
“What’s scaring you?”
“How quickly I was to give in,” I said, barely able to admit it aloud. “If you hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve gone through with it. But you’re wrong about one thing, I wouldn’t have regretted it. And that’s what scares me.”
He stilled beneath me.
“Do you think about it?” he asked, voice low. “You and me… together?”
I swallowed. “I have before. Yeah.”
I waited for him to make a joke, to tease me for blurring the lines between our friendship after I made such a big deal about maintaining it, but he didn’t.
“Do you want to?” he asked.
My heart gave a traitorous kick in my chest.
“I—I…” The words lodged in my throat.
“Because we could,” he said, softer now, coaxing me.
My mouth went dry, and I already wished I had a drink to help with my courage.
“The idea of going further is… attractive,” I said carefully. “But what happens when the excitement fades and reality sets in?”
Elliot’s eyes pierced right through me.
“Why are you acting like I’ve never shown you how much I need you?” His voice was quiet but firm. “You think us sleeping together changes that? My feelings for you aren’t just lust-fueled, Ellie.”
I hovered over him, pressing my hands into the mattress, meeting his gaze head-on.
“Then tell me,” I challenged. “What exactly are your feelings for me?”
His hands slid down to my hips, gripping me with intention. Then, ever so slowly, he adjusted, lowering me until my thighs were parted over his waist, my body flush against the very obvious hardness between us, all while maintaining eye contact.
His voice was steady, each word laced with certainty as he punctuated them with a deep thrust.
“Affection. Infatuation. Protectiveness. Comfort. Desire. Adoration. Trust. Gratitude. Attachment. Respect.” His fingers flexed against my skin. “Do I need to go on?”
I swallowed hard.
“No.”
Then, without another word, I leaned down and kissed him.
Elliot met me halfway, his lips capturing mine with a slow, deliberate hunger.
His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me down against him as he deepened the kiss. The heat between us was instant. My fingers dug into his bare shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as his mouth moved over mine, his tongue sweeping past my lips in a way that made my breath hitch.
I shouldn’t be doing this. But God, I wanted to.
His hands slipped beneath the shirt he gave me, palms warm against my skin as he dragged them up my back. My hips rolled against his, chasing the friction that made my head spin.
His grip tightened, a low growl vibrating against my lips.
“Elliot.” His voice wrecked with restraint. “You keep doing that, and I won’t stop this time.”
But I didn’t want him to stop.
I did it again. This time, slower, wanting to feel every inch of him against me, even through the fabric that separated us. He moaned deeply before grabbing my jaw and forcing his lips on mine. My arms tightened around his neck as he wrapped me up, keeping me in place as I worked against him.
The pace picked up quickly, more heated than the lap dance I gave last night.
More intimate too. He let me lead, matching my rhythm in both the kiss and the grinding.
Heat pooled in my stomach as I worked him.
I should’ve stopped. I know I should. But he just felt so good where I needed him to.
His mouth was so inviting, greeting my tongue with a welcomed ease.
His scent was intoxicating. His touch held electricity.
I felt comfortable in his arms. Maybe a little too comfortable because before I knew it, the heat that pool leaked out.
My back arched in pleasure, and I cried out slowly against his lips.
Fuck.
He paused, taking in everything that happened. “Ellie.”
“I’m sorry, I got carried away.”
I tried to pull away, but he held me in place.
His hands flexed against my skin like he was battling something within himself.
Then, in one swift motion, he rolled us over, pressing me into the mattress beneath him with pure hunger in his eyes.
Unintentionally, I began to shake like I was freezing even though it was impossible with his warm body covering me.
I couldn’t stop it and I didn’t know why.
The last thing I felt was fear, but my body trembled anyway.
“Elliot, I-I…” I winced under him, his body pressing me down with his intoxicating weight. The hunger in his eyes faded instantly, as he looked at me. He let out a low, frustrated exhale, his forehead dropping to my shoulder.
“I don’t like being teased, alright? So don’t start something you aren’t ready for,” he warned with a type of quiet rage that made my back straighten and my nipples hard.
I nodded my head and choked out. “Y-Yes. I’m ready, El.”
He looked at me deeply, eyes studying me so intensely I squirmed. I saw the way his face relaxed like he realized something and with a sigh, he released me before sitting up. “No. You aren’t.”
Awkwardly, I sat up too, quietly scurrying out of the bed and into the bathroom to collect my thoughts.