Gant
“Shut the door!” Elle screams over the blasting hot water as I open the bathroom door. Steam wafts out in a massive plume, and the mirror and clear shower curtain are so damn foggy that I can barely make out her silhouette beneath the shower head.
“You’re letting out all the steam,” she says, spitting out water. “It’s freezing now.”
Girls must have the ability to live beneath the earth’s crust with the way they can withstand pure liquid fire raining down on their scalps and yet still claim to be freezing.
I oblige, shutting and locking the bathroom door before pulling the shower curtain open. When it drifts open, I swear Elle’s soul damn near lifts out of her body.
“Gant.”
“You wouldn’t answer my texts.”
Slowly, she backs up to the opposite side of the shower and gets blasted by the steaming stream in the process. Of course, she doesn’t flinch. Her skin’s burning red, but I know she barely notices it. I, however, cannot withstand third-degree burns. I stop short of the boiling water so that there’s a barrier between us that gives her a second of relief. But then I easily lean over and turn off the tap behind her back. My baby’s already shivering as I run my fingers down her spine, stopping just above her ass.
“For seventy-nine hours.”
I pull her toward me easily, her toes squeaking against the porcelain tub as she tries to stop short. Still, her nipples tickle my stomach, and my cock that’s already hard jumps at the contact. I know something inside her jumps too, before settling and sliding right between her thighs that she’s desperately trying to keep clenched. But her eyes never lie. Despite the shock, and fear floating in them, they’re roving down my torso, drinking me in.
“Why have you been avoiding me?”
It takes her forever to breathe, to sigh in an attempt to steady her galloping heart and collect her words.
“I told you in the greenhouse that I’m tired.”
“Aren’t we supposed to rest together?”
Her still wide eyes slip from my face to a spot on the tiles beside me.
“No. Let’s not do this anymore.”
“Do what exactly?” But I already know because she can’t look me in the eye. My dove’s trying to fly away. Away from the brewing emotions between us. From the loss of the leading role in Cinderella.
From me.
It’s all too much for her. But that’s exactly why I’m here to ease the burden. She said no one is ever there to catch her, but I’m right here.
“The interlude.” Her eyes finally snap to mine as she finds enough courage to look at me. “It’s over. I know I never upheld my end of the bargain, but I don’t care. Just go back to hating me, bullying me. It’s easier and I can handle it.”
We both know she can. She’s been handling a lot behind the scenes.
“Easier than what?” I ask, stroking her hip and mentally counting each goosebump that peppers the small expanse. “Than falling in love with me?”
She’s taken aback one second, then she’s shaking her head but still, she can’t look at me when she says, “I’m not falling in love with you.”
Something in me flinches even as I remain still.
Silence drifts between us. I’m suddenly hyper-aware of every water droplet on the tiles and on the shower curtain beside us. I’m aware of the wetness beneath my feet and the little, almost imperceptible twitch of her left breast with each heartbeat.
“I don’t know what love is exactly. I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like. But I think it’s one of those things that you’ve never had to experience before to know. You just do, and I know I’m at the start.”
Again, silence, but something’s in her eyes that are glued to me now.
“Gant...”
She’s resisting, but she’s thawing. I can tell from the slump of her shoulders.“I’m showing signs and symptoms.”
“No, you’re not,” she says tiredly.
“You’re infecting me.” I pull her closer. So close her nipples graze me again. “I want to be infected. All this time, I thought you were an affliction I needed to cure. But that’s impossible because you’re the problem and the solution.”
“I can’t be the solution.”
“Why not?”
“We both know why, Gant.”
“I don’t think we do.”
She sighs and tries to escape my grasp, but I won’t let her. “You said we’d find the driver of the green car together.”
“So?”
“So, what do you expect to happen after that?”
“I’m not a psychic.”
“You don’t need to be to make an educated guess. We’ll graduate and all of this will be behind us. I can’t be your fix after that because we’ll be parting ways. It’s better to part them now. I’ll still help you identify the driver, but then that’s it. We can call it even or not, but I’m not playing anymore. I refuse to. So move all the pieces around me and cause chaos, but this intimate stuff, it’s over.”
“Why are you so scared?”
“I’m not.”
I stroke her hip, then her spine, and she shivers.
“You’re covered in goosebumps.”
“We’re naked in a draughty room,” she deadpans.
“You were covered in them even before the steam cleared.” I stroke the underside of her left breast and feel it jump as her heart speeds up. “Your breast is pounding in tune with your heart.”
She looks down at the mound I’m massaging between my fingers before letting out a little sigh. I can feel that too.
“It’s barely noticeable, but I can see it. Can feel it.”
I pinch her nipple and, just like always, she clutches my wrist. Her grip is so fucking weak. Just like her resolve.
“I’m not afraid of you, Gant. I’ve been through far worse.”
“It’s not me you’re afraid of. It’s the idea of losing me after. After finding the driver. After graduation…” I hold her tighter. “You’re afraid of after.”
She snorts. “You seriously think you’re the world’s axis.”
“Just yours. Join the club because you’ve rotated mine for two years.”
Her brows furrow. “I’m not worried about losing you—”
“You’re worried about losing yourselfwith me. It’s one thing if I’m gone, right? It’s another if you’ve lost a part of yourself with me.”
Her lips snap shut, her throat bobbing.
“That’s what falling in love does. It ruins the degree. It throws you off-kilter, but you enjoy every second of it until things stabilise again.”
“That’s just it. Nothing can ever stabilise between us.”
I knew it.
My heart thuds as if her words have just knocked it back into beating. Because I knew she thought of me from her pins and saves of Gant knockoffs. From the little soft-core GIFS she watches beneath the covers. But the fact that a lack of us has her this despondent, this upset, makes something rush through my veins and not just to my cock. Blood. I suddenly feel warm-blooded.
I’ve felt cold for so long.
“You’re thinking that far ahead?” I ask, a smile pulling at my lips. “About the real world?”
Did losing out on the role of Cinderella trigger all of this?
She squints at me and shakes her head slowly. “You really don’t get it. No one at this school gets it unless they’re on a scholarship. I can’t play these stupid games with you because I don’t have the resources to fuck around like you do. To get distracted like you can. You know what your future’s going to look like as an Auclair. I’m no one. I told you, you have a net. No matter how painful it may be when you fall, something, someone, is there to catch you.
I have nothing, including time. I didn’t get the role in this play, so that’s already one opportunity down. My focus has to shift to the Christmas production. Not how to beat you. I need to strategize my next move and my next move is landing a leading role or working at the fucking deli. So go play intimately with someone else and just go back to having your minions waste resources some of us are dying for. Just because you can. Just because it makes you feel better. For an hour.”
She goes to step out of the tub and I call after her. “Elle?”
To my surprise, she freezes, turning back to me with scrunched brows and a snap in her tone. “What? Seriously fucking what, Gant?”
“I told you you were mine. My doll. Did you think that would stop once we leave Beaulieu?”
She snorts, then chuckles. “You can’t take me with you.”
“I can take my doll wherever I want.”
“Are you forgetting about your father? The man that blamed you for the leak even after you proved it was me? How do you think that’s going to go over when you’re toting your ‘doll’ around in public?”
“My father’s irrelevant when it comes to my dating life.”
Dating. Girlfriends. I’ve never had one.
I’ve never wanted one.
Until now.
“You say that now.”
“I’ve said it since forever.”
“Until you need his business. His company. His money. His last name and I’m not shaming you for it. If I could swap my last name for one like Auclair to ensure my safety, and my future, I’d do it in a heartbeat. So don’t even think about bitching about how you don’t want it because some of us would fucking die to have it.”
Swapping her last name…
Eloisa Auclair…
“I won’t bitch. No one likes the poor little rich boy spiel. Even poor little rich boys. I get why you’re thinking this way. I understand it completely.”
“You do?” She looks genuinely surprised.
“I do.” Even though I’ve completely discarded it. “What I don’t get is why any of that matters. You say you don’t love me. You say there is no future outside of Beaulieu’s little bubble—”
“I don’t want a future with you. I’m just stating logistics.”
“Unserious relationships don’t need to consider logistics. But you are, and it all goes back to that little word you deny so much.”
“Gant—”
“You’re trying to stop things from growing between us now because you can’t see past Beaulieu’s gates. You can’t see a future. But your heart does, even though your mind’s trying to steer it away and save it from a world of pain you see heading your way. That’s what you’re so worried about, your heart.”
She just stares at me until a blink brings her back to reality. “Maybe you’d have a point if I actually love—”
I grab her chin and press a kiss to her lips to stop her from talking. To stop the jerking in my chest and the twisting in my intestines every time she says those horrible words. “I don’t want to hear how you don’t love me ever again.”
“Why? Because it hurts?” she mocks.
“It hurts you too. Telling the truth. I saw the pain in your eyes when you told me the truth about everything weeks ago. About the leak. About my mother. I knew it then, but I refused to accept it.”
“So you see how selfish you are?” I shake my head slowly. “I’ve always seen it. It’s the main reason I refuse to let you go.” I reach for her and pull her wet, warm body against mine, squeezing her tight. I want to feel her heartbeat through her tits. I want to feel all of her. “I can teach you. How to be selfish. How not to worry about the real world, at least while we’re in our so-called bubble.”
“I don’t have the privilege even in our bubble. The play just reminded me of that. Reminded me that I’m wasting time playing this stupid game with you. I need to concentrate.”
“Didn’t I help you concentrate during our private lessons?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“You, us, this, it’s distracting.”
I take her hand and she lets me, though she doesn’t hold mine back. “There are other plays. I’ll make sure you get that leading role in the Christmas production.”
She’s about to protest, but I cut her off.
“Not through schemes. Through your own talents. Mistress Errard has already seen your potential after just two months of private lessons with me. What do you think will happen when there are two more months left until the Christmas play? When there’s four more until the spring play? When there’s nine more months until the midsummer’s eve play?”
I can tell she’s thinking it over in her mind.
“What do you want in return? Because I know you want something, and I already told you I’m not fucking you.”
She’s still protecting herself.
“That’s fine. You have something else that I want.”
“Just as badly?”
She wants me to want it badly. Just as badly as she does.
“I wish I could answer that,” I say. “It should be clear, but it isn’t.”
She swallows.
“You said you’d help me find the driver. My mother’s killer. No one’s seen his face but you, so you’ll identify him for me. We find the car, him, and I’ll ensure those scouts see you front and centre.”
I can see the gears in her mind turning.
“But I said I’d help you anyway.”
“This way you won’t change your mind and back out.”
“I wouldn’t—”
“Just like how you didn’t back out of our first interlude?”
She bites her lip. “So, a new contract?”
“A new contract.”
I can’t help it. I lean in and kiss her soft lips. She’s so fucking soft, from her tits to her belly to her ass, I can see in the vanity mirror. “I’ve missed you, Dovey.”
“Awww. You don’t have anyone else to bully?”
She tries so hard to stay guarded. To remain indifferent, but her voice is already breathier.
“No. No one else to kiss,” I say, sucking on her bottom lip. “To touch.”
I cup the back of her head, pulling her up onto her tiptoes to kiss me. Then I slide my arms down her back and over her ass, forcing her legs open and swiping her pussy in the process as I scoop her up into my arms. Heat sears my stomach, right above my cock that’s kissing her hot opening. She’s so damn slippery and I know it has nothing to do with the water.
Surprisingly, she does exactly what I want by wrapping her legs around me.
“What are you doing?” she gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulder as I climb out of the tub and head for her bed.
“I already told you I wouldn’t take your pussy, your blood until I became someone to you. Now, I’ve changed my mind. I won’t fuck you until you tell me the truth.”
“I don’t fucking love—” she begins to protest, but then her lips fall open and a breathy moan escapes them. “Gant!”
I reach around her ass and slide two fingers into her entrance. Immediately she grips me so fucking tight my cock jumps, begging to be the one that’s stroking her instead.
“Is this what pussies that aren’t in love do?” I ask against her neck that I pepper with kisses. Her walls are damn near convulsing, greedily milking each digit.
“It’s called a natural reaction-ohhh.”
“But it doesn’t connect to your eyes if there’s no emotion involved. Look at me.”
I pull her hair and force her head back so I can stare into her eyes, and when I do, she can’t hide what’s swirling inside of them. “They don’t shine so bright if it’s not love. Your lips, they wouldn’t stay parted, hoping I’ll lean down and kiss them again until they’re swollen.”
“I don’t want to kiss you,” she whispers.
“Then why do you subconsciously keep leaning forward every time I pull away? Because you’re waiting, hoping, aching for another.”
To prove my point, I lick her lower lip and almost instantly she latches onto my tongue, sucking me closer until our lips meet and she’s moaning into my mouth. Minutes later, when I try to break the kiss, she lets out a whimper of disapproval and I slip my soaked fingers from her cunt to pinch her clit. Immediately she gasps, releasing my tongue, and I peer down into her hazy, half-closed eyes in victory.
“See. That’s the difference between love and lust. The first time I touched you in the ballet studio was lust. It’s different now. You want to hold me tight. You want every part of our bodies to connect, not just our sexes.”
I give her another little kiss and swirl her clit faster.
“Mmm.”
“Tell me it’s different now.”
She just tries to kiss me and I pull her hair so hard she arches her back and damn near falls from my arms, but I have a solid grip around her waist and in her sweet pulsing pussy.
“Tell me.”
I allow her to slip backwards onto the bed and settle between her thighs.
“It’s different now,” she whispers, a hand fisting in my hair.
Good.
“I never got my kiss,” I say, peppering kisses up her thigh until I reach her pussy. “Let me kiss you.”
She looks so sexy, staring down at me between her opened legs, her low lip wedged between her teeth, the undersides of her tits so full, her nipples so hard and pointed.
I kiss her wetness softly, gently at first. “It’s just a kiss, Elle.”
It’s not just a kiss.
My nose bumps her clit and my tongue splits her folds. Fuck, she tastes good. Better than any other time, I’ve tasted her simply because I’m tasting her straight from the source.
I don’t know what’s better, tongue fucking her tight channel or sucking, licking, nibbling on her clit that’s now twice the size it was a second ago. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so erotic. Watching it grow, swell, and peek out from her folds, shiny and pink and hard and soft all at the same time. I swirl the bundle of nerves beneath my tongue and grip her thighs that are fighting to stay open while her fingers, nestled in my hair, try to pry me off.
“Gant, please. I-I can’t—”
“You can.”
She pushes harder, shaking her head. “It’s too much… please.”
There’s no chance in hell I’m letting her get off the summit. The only way off is to come crashing down and I can feel she’s about to free fall.
I sink my fingers into her fleshy ass and roll her over, ignoring the squeal she lets out.
From this angle, I can see the creases of those glorious heavy tits again. Of her gorgeous face that contorts in pleasure as I suck her clit harder.
“Please.”
I slap her ass. Once, twice, then three times until she collapses, letting go of the headboard and crumbling onto the pillows. It sinks her pussy tighter against my lips.
“Ride,” I mutter through the wetness, coaxing her to roll her hips faster and she does, until involuntary trembles wrack her and she can’t do anything but pulse around my tongue as I slip it back into her dripping pussy.
It’s only when the last aftershock passes do I let her get off me and the second she does I’m up on the pillows, forcing her to look up at me. Forcing her swollen lips to open, to take a mouthful of her own wetness I’d saved for just this moment.
She looks so sexy as she obediently swallows it. As she inevitably leans forward, desperate to be rewarded with more kisses that I give her.
She loves my kisses.
Such a good girl.
I pull her onto me, and lavish in the feel of her tits crushed between us. The feel of her wet pussy spreading and kissing my lower belly. Kissing the tip of my cock that I won’t put in because we’re on the same page. I won’t fuck her until I feel she’s accepted this.
It.
Me.
Us.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say, between wet kisses. She’s so fucking pretty like this. Out of breath, a blush across her lightly freckled cheeks, her lips swollen, both her lips wet.
“That I hate how you look.”
I smile, feeling the corners of my eyes crinkle. “Why?”
“It’s not fair. You’re like a dream. One I don’t want to escape.”
“A dream you’ve had a thousand times before?”
She nods. “You look exactly how you appear in my dreams too. Wet hair, eyelids hooded, those impossibly dark eyes boring into me. Water droplets on your lips.”
“From your lips,” I say, rubbing her slit with feather-light touches.
“From my lips,” she agrees.
“Lick them off.”
She does, and when she pulls away, I don’t miss the look that flits across her features before she ducks her head beneath my chin.
Confusion. Acceptance.
“You say we’re in a bubble. You say I have to let you go.”
“Because you do.”
“You’re scared of intimacy between us because you’re scared of your heart breaking when it’s time to say goodbye.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You want to fuck me, but you won’t. I gave you my reason. Give me yours.”
“I don’t have one other than I don’t want to.”
“I’ll only fuck you if you admit that you love me. You won’t fuck me, because you don’t want to fall in love.”
She says nothing.
“But we’re both already falling, Dovey. It’s going to happen. Next week, next month, next semester. It’s going to happen and if it’s going to happen, why can’t we just enjoy our bubble even if you swear it’ll burst?”
“Because it will.”
“But we’ll do it, anyway. So why can’t we enjoy the ride?”
“It’ll hurt too much when it ends,” she says softly.
Finally, she admits the truth.
“It’ll hurt regardless.”
“It’s not real.”
Of course, it is.
“We can just pretend.” I oblige her.
“Pretend?”
“I’m not letting you go while we’re here, Elle, and you don’t want me to. So if you insist that you already know the future, fine. Just pretend with me.”
She grows silent and we both watch the orangey sunset in silence through the giant window beside her bed. The one I’d climbed through.
“If you stay with me over the midterm break, we can watch a dozen sunsets together.”
She shifts to look up at me, her fingers splayed beneath her head and over my heart. “How do you expect me to do that?” she asks in disbelief. “Your father—”
“Hasn’t stepped foot in the penthouse for two years. I live alone.”
“Right, rich kid things.”
“Stay with me.”
“Beaulieu may be a bubble, but out there isn’t.” She juts her chin toward the window. “I can’t pretend out there. I have to work at the deli with Mum and save up as much as I can before school opens again. I need supplies, and Mum needs help.”
I blink slowly, trying to stave off the rage threatening to boil within me at the mere mention of Jaime. She’s already spent seventy per cent of the scratcher money and none of it on Elle.
“She doesn’t deserve you,” I can’t help but blurt.
She sits up on her elbows. “I’m not having this conversation with you again. You don’t know my mother.”
“You’re right. I only know what you’ve told me.”
She quiets at that as she presses her lips closed and rolls off of me to dig in her drawer for a pair of sad, saggy panties. There are none. I threw them off the balcony once I slipped into the room.
She grunts in annoyance and I pull the tips of her hair, forcing her to fall onto my lap, before wrapping my arms around her and watching bewitched as her breasts squeeze together from the motion. “Just think about it. Stay with me,” I say, kissing her collarbone. “In the penthouse. In my bed. In my arms.”
“I…”
“We’ll search for the car together and once we find it, I can finally be done with this game too. Because I’m tired too. I’m so fucking tired of pretending that I still hate you.”
“You don’t?” It comes out so softly. So hopeful.
“I don’t. I just want to float in our bubble while we can. Stay with me. Not just over the break, but until graduation. You say you have to live in the real world. You say my privilege keeps me covered, sheltered in another. So let me lend you some of that privilege. Just enough for you to pretend with me. Forget the deli. Forget the money. Just concentrate on your dance career, on helping me to find my mother’s killer, on me. Let me be your net. That’s the terms of the new contract. You can’t leave me prematurely, Elle. I won’t let you.”
“Gant—”
“Be good, and it won’t have to be so hard,” I say before kissing her. “Be a good girl for me.”