Chapter 2
Cruz
I was barely keeping it together and I had no clue how I was managing it.
Because between Elliot’s hot, lithe body practically rubbing against mine, his lust-filled eyes glazing over the more I held him in place against the wall, and the breathy whimpers that were falling from his supple lips as I toyed with how much pressure I applied to his throat, I was ready to turn him around and fuck him right then and there.
It was only the reddened skin of his throat and the slightly darker oval spots just below his jaw that kept my lust in check.
The fucker had held him like this.
But not to bring him pleasure.
Never in a million years would I have guessed that someone like Elliot Wittier was so naturally submissive. I doubted even he knew what his body was craving.
On paper, the man was the epitome of success.
Undergrad and graduate degrees from Ivy League schools, loads of cash in the bank, and a list of personal and professional accomplishments a mile long.
Despite the anxiety I’d gotten a glimpse of tonight, he carried himself with an air of confidence and authority.
But whatever masks he wore in public, they were falling by the wayside the longer I spent in his presence.
And his mask wasn’t the only one that was slipping.
We were as different as night and day, but at this moment, I was more in tune with him then I’d ever been with another living soul.
And that was a serious fucking problem.
Yeah, I’d orchestrated running into him and used our mutual costumes to jump-start a conversation, but somehow, we’d shot right past formalities and were working our way to ending up wrapped around each other in a tangle of hot, sweaty, sexually-sated bodies.
Fuck, I just wanted one taste. I was already leaning in when I managed to catch myself.
I forced enough space between our bodies to keep from rubbing my cock against his.
I let my mouth settle next to Elliot’s ear and couldn’t help but nip at the soft skin just behind it before whispering, “Who hurt you, Elliot?”
For someone lost in a haze of passion, he recovered quickly because he stiffened at my words.
I wasn’t ready for the loss, so I shamelessly pressed my body against his and then licked the shell of his ear.
I still had my hand around his throat, so I could feel his pulse hammering just beneath his skin.
One of the hands he had at my waist slid up my back and threaded through my hair.
He was clearly enjoying my ministrations because he cocked his head to the side in invitation.
I gave him what he wanted and gently played with the skin behind his ear, then beneath it, before trailing my lips over his jawline.
He let out a breathy moan as I lifted my mouth, but when I didn’t kiss him like he so obviously wanted, he opened his eyes.
“Who hurt you, Elliot?” I asked again.
This time when he tensed up, I was prepared and I tightened my hold on his throat. Not enough to hurt him, but to show him I was in control.
And that for once, he didn’t need to be.
But even though I owned his body in that moment, his mind was still fighting me and he finally shook his head. “No one. I’m fine, really.”
The tremor in his voice said otherwise, but I knew I’d lose him if I pressed him too hard. I had to get back to the original objective.
“Do you want to get out of here?” I asked suggestively.
I knew what his answer would be, but I’d planted the question for a reason. I wasn’t exactly proud of what I was doing, but I wasn’t exactly lying about it, either.
I really did want to get out of there with him.
“I… I can’t. I have to mingle. I have this speech…”
“After,” I suggested as I began rubbing my thumb over his pulse, which had slowed only slightly.
“I shouldn’t,” he murmured half-heartedly.
I knew it would be easy to convince him with something as simple as a kiss.
But nothing about kissing Elliot would be simple.
I knew it in my bones.
And I knew the first time that I kissed him, it wouldn’t be like this…
here. It wouldn’t be about rushing through the inherent perfection of tasting him just to get him to agree to something.
It would happen when there was no risk of losing him to his obligations and when I wouldn’t have to be aware of our surroundings.
I would only have to be aware of him and what he needed from me.
And what he could and would give me in return.
“After,” I repeated, my voice firm.
Elliot finally managed a nod and I once again put some space between us.
I heard a woman’s voice come over the PA system, but I doubted Elliot even noticed because his fingers were playing with the hair at the nape of my neck.
It felt so good that I was once again tempted to just drag him out of there, fundraiser be damned.
And I knew he’d follow.
I put my mouth next to his ear again and said, “They’re calling you.” It took him a good ten seconds to make sense of my words.
“Shit,” he said as he scrambled to move away from me. The anxiety slid over him like a familiar cloak and I hated it. So I didn’t hesitate to tighten my hold on his throat and pin him against the wall until he stilled.
Fortunately, there was no fear in his eyes as he focused them on me.
“Talk to me,” I said firmly. At his questioning look, I glanced over my shoulder at the ballroom and explained, “When you’re up there, you find me and you talk only to me. Do you understand me? No one else.”
I wasn’t sure if he was reacting to the possessiveness in my voice or the permission I was giving him to escape the pressure of having to deal with the sea of faces that would all be focused on him, but it didn’t really matter.
I’d accomplished what I’d set out to do because he relaxed, then nodded.
“Good,” I said. “When you’re finished, you and I are leaving. You can tell people you aren’t feeling well. I don’t care where we go, just as long as it’s you and me. Just you and me.”
I knew I was being high-handed, but I’d seen enough to suspect that was exactly what Elliot needed tonight.
I doubted it was something he was looking for twenty-four-seven and I had absolutely no desire for a relationship built on that particular dynamic, but I’d give him whatever he needed to get him through tonight.
So I could meet the real Elliot.
The one I’d only gotten glimpses of so far.
I stepped away from him and immediately hated the loss of contact as I dropped my hand from his throat.
So instead, I wrapped my fingers around his and, not caring who was watching, led him past the crowd toward the front of the ballroom where there was a small stage and a single microphone.
Once we reached it, a young woman dressed as a strawberry darted onto the stage and announced him.
I gave Elliot’s fingers a gentle squeeze before I let him go.
His eyes held mine for a moment and I felt a measure of satisfaction at how clear and calm they looked.
During my research earlier in the afternoon, I’d found a couple of YouTube videos for speeches he’d done at local events and while to most he’d likely seemed composed, I’d been able to see the uncertainty in his stance and I’d heard the unevenness in his voice.
As he stepped onto the stage, I saw a confident young man and when he began speaking, there was only the slightest hint of self-doubt.
But as soon as his eyes searched me out and stayed on me, his voice evened out.
He was poised enough to subconsciously keep looking back at the rest of the crowd, but I could tell he wasn’t seeing them and he was quick to return his eyes to me.
Yeah, he was definitely only seeing me.
I was arrogantly pleased by that, even though I knew I probably shouldn’t be. I hadn’t ever been in an actual relationship before, so I’d never felt any kind of moment where it seemed like you were the sole focus of someone else’s world.
Elliot was giving that to me.
I knew it wasn’t real, but I didn’t care.
I’d take what I could get.
Because even if I’d wanted it to be real, it couldn’t be.
And wasn’t that just a fucking shame?
Elliot’s anxiety had returned the moment he’d stepped off the stage and approached me and it was growing worse and worse with every moment he spent in my presence.
He’d hidden it well as we’d matriculated through the crowd so he could mingle for a bit and give his excuses for needing to leave early, but the second I’d taken his hand to lead him from the building, he’d gone rigid with tension.
If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought he was afraid of me, and if his eyes had been darting around us as we walked, I would have attributed his nerves to the attack he’d endured the night before.
But his gaze was practically glued to the ground as we walked.
“You okay?” I asked as I gave his hand a little tug to get his attention.
“What? Oh, um, yeah,” he said. His eyes met mine only briefly before falling again.
We’d left the hotel where the party had been held a few minutes earlier and were making our way down to the waterfront to check out the marketplace and pier.
Although it was dark out, the weather was mild and dry, so we’d decided to walk.
The streets around us were busy with foot and car traffic.
Since it was the night before Halloween, a large number of people were dressed in costumes like us.
Not satisfied with Elliot’s response, I tugged him into the doorway of a small shop.
The shop itself was closed, but there was enough light from the street lamp and the single row of lights the shop owner had left on to see Elliot’s expression as I forced him back against the wall.
Thankfully, the spot afforded us a little bit of privacy.