Chapter 22 Madelina
Elliot pins me against the textured brick wall behind a large column, his lips crashing against mine with an urgency that leaves me breathless.
The pulsating rhythm of Billie Eilish reverberates through the space, enveloping us in a haze of sound, while the dim lighting provides privacy in this part of the club.
His fingers creep beneath the skirt of my short dress, lingering on my thigh, and sending shivers down my spine as the heat of his kiss ignites a fire within me. He tastes like perfection, and even though I kissed him this morning, it feels like forever ago.
I pull away slightly, his eyes casting a spell over me as I try to regulate my breathing.
He leans his hand on the wall, creating a barrier so no one can see me, then grazes my thigh again, but this time he doesn’t stop, going straight for the pot of gold.
I draw my lower lip between my teeth, every sense heightened as his finger brushes against my clit.
My stomach tightens, and my legs begin to wobble like jelly.
The only thing holding me up at this point is my back resting against the wall.
In and out, in and out, he thrusts his fingers as the familiar build in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of erupting into a blissful orgasm. I shut my eyes tight, biting down hard to control my body’s convulsing, but I have no control.
“Come for me,” Elliot demands in a raspy voice.
His simple demand sends me over the edge, the stars blinding me as flashing lights stream across the ceiling.
I attempt to catch my breath, but the air inside the club is awfully stale and makes it harder for me to gain my bearings.
Elliot slowly removes his fingers from inside me, then, in a bold move, he brings them to his mouth and sucks on them slowly.
Desire pools his eyes with every stroke of his tongue. Once again, my legs begin to shake, my gaze fixated on the way his tongue rolls around and sucks the juices off his fingers so effortlessly.
I want all of him, again, right here and right now. But as he leans in to kiss me softly, this time a surge of resistance brings me back to reality, almost like someone snapped their fingers and pulled me out of a spell.
“We can’t do this,” I tell him, pushing him away.
“Do what?” Elliot cocks his head with a smug expression. “I think it’s a bit too late. You weren’t complaining a few minutes ago.”
“No, I wasn’t…” I trail off, unsure how to even respond to that. The shots are wearing off because things are becoming clearer. “You can’t stalk me and expect everything to be fine.”
“Then let’s leave so we can talk.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a tall man wearing a suit who just walked through the main entrance. As his silhouette cuts through the pulsating lights of the club, I realize it’s Aston.
I freak out, shoving Elliot aside, and masking my panic with a casual smile on my lips.
How casual can you be? Your best friend’s elder brother just fingered you in the bar, and you had no problem finishing either.
The heat suddenly rises in the confined space, my hands instinctively flapping near my face to create some much-needed air. Aston’s gaze lands on me, and I can almost feel the tension in the air as Elliot instinctively steps back, leaving me to face the storm.
“Let’s get our stories straight,” I shout over the noise to Elliot. “I invited you out since there was nothing to do back home. You were going to meet a friend.”
Aston finally makes his way through the people dancing. “There you are. Everleigh sent me on a mission since you didn’t respond to her text.”
I feign a casual shrug, attempting to brush it off. “Oh, sorry… fireballs. You know how it is. You can’t stop at one, then everything is a big giant blur.”
“Sure,” Aston acknowledges, his eyes momentarily flickering to Elliot. “Everleigh never mentioned you were coming in.”
“Last-minute decision,” he explains, the words tumbling out as I try to play it cool. “Madelina invited me. Said she felt sorry for me being cooped up in Cinnamon Springs.”
“Well, we have more than enough room for both of you to crash tonight,” Aston assures us, his voice infused with a friendly warmth, not at all suspicious of what happened earlier between Elliot and me.
“Yeah, let’s make a swift exit before I get swayed into another round of shots,” I tell them, only to spot Bowie on the dance floor. Bowie glances my way, tilting his head to question what I’m doing, but I simply wave goodbye. He blows an air kiss and then motions that he will call me.
The club is much busier than when we first arrived, and given it’s a weeknight, I suspect many patrons will have a massive hangover tomorrow.
The thumping bass and swirling lights fade into the background as we step outside onto the pavement. Thank God, Manhattan isn’t as humid as Cinnamon Springs. There’s a slight breeze, and I welcome it with open arms. Everything about me feels so sticky right now.
“I’ll catch you later. I rode in, so I need to grab my bike,” Elliot informs us, keeping his distance.
It’s well after midnight, but still relatively early to leave a club.
The streets are quiet, with only the occasional person or group walking past. My ears are ringing from standing inside the club and listening to loud music for too long. I don’t want to admit it to Aston because he’ll tease me that I’m getting old.
I brace myself for a lecture but instead, his silence speaks volumes, heavy with unsaid words.
When I left Eva a few hours ago, I told her I was meeting friends and not to wait up.
I also said I was looking to hook up. That is probably why she panicked, since it is slightly out of character for me. Eva knows I dislike one-night stands.
“You seem a bit subdued,” Aston comments, breaking the growing tension on our walk back to his place.
“I’m debating whether I’m hungry or on the brink of puking,” I reply bluntly, clutching at my stomach.
“Charming.” He chuckles softly. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve stepped into a club or been on a bender.”
“I wouldn’t call tonight a bender, just a few drinks to lighten the burden called life.” We stop at the crossing, waiting for a cab to pass the intersection. “Besides, you’re about to be a daddy. Life will never be the same for you.”
“I know,” he replies, his tone a blend of excitement and trepidation. “It’s a huge shift. One day, I’m probably going to have a daughter like you and go ballistic when she doesn’t come home, just like Dad did.”
A small laugh escapes me, but then I realize Aston called him Dad. It’s been a while since I heard him call him that. A big part of me wishes it were true, and that Dad was only harsh on Aston because he wanted the best for him.
“Two times,” I drag, keeping our banter light. “Don’t you forget anything?”
“No, I don’t forget being blamed even though I was studying at home and you were the one sneaking out.”
“You were such a geek,” I tease, releasing a sigh. “Those were the days.”
“Times are a-changing.”
“They sure are, Daddy,” I muse.
“Eva and this baby are everything to me,” Aston says softly, his eyes bright with a fierce determination that both comforts and inspires me. “My life feels complete.”
I instinctively reach for his arm, resting my head against it as we stroll side by side down a tree-lined street. “You really have it all, big brother.”
Suddenly, Aston halts mid-stride, the city’s glow reflecting in his earnest gaze.
“And you’ll have it all one day, too. Just don’t rush it. It’ll come when you least expect it,” he reassures me, but a knot of doubt coils in my stomach. I keep the worry to myself, the weight of it too heavy for this moment. “For now, go live your life.”
“So what you’re saying is, there are more fireball shots in my future?”
Aston’s shoulders move up and down as he chuckles. “Maybe switch to vodka. Less of a hangover.”
Eva is asleep when we reach the apartment. I quickly slip into the shower to wash away tonight’s events, then snuggle beneath the covers inside the guest bedroom.
Elliot hasn’t arrived yet, and as much as I want to call him, I decide it would be best to sleep on things since nothing good will come of conversations held when I’m utterly exhausted.
I soon fall into a deep sleep, but it feels like only minutes later that a blaring wail of a siren wakes me from my slumber.
“Nooo,” I mumble into the pillow.
The soft sunlight filters through the sheer curtains, painting patterns on the walls, as I reach over to my phone to glance at the time.
It’s just after five in the morning, and I’ve had four hours’ sleep.
I groan as my head falls back onto the pillow, but my mind refuses to shut off despite my eyes begging it to shut the hell up.
For the next hour, I toss and turn to no avail, then my cell phone beeps with a text message.
I quickly read it, noting that it’s from my father, who wants to meet for brunch.
I have no idea how he knows I’m in the city, yet I’m too tired to care.
I quickly respond, confirming my attendance.
It would be silly of me to assume he wants to meet up to say sorry for being a goddamn dick.
There’s no point in lying in bed, so I drag my hungover ass to the bathroom to brush my teeth. As my gaze drifts to my reflection in the mirror, it’s accurate to say I look like death. My hair is a bird’s nest.
My feet move slowly toward the kitchen, where I’m surprised to see everyone awake, including Elliot.
“So, this is fun. A little impromptu family reunion,” Eva chirps as she rises from her chair, the light catching the subtle curve of her belly.
I blink in surprise, realization dawning on me. “Oh my God. How did I miss that last night?”
Eva simply shrugs with a grin, a stark difference from when I last saw her in Cinnamon Springs. The change in mood brings a wave of relief because now I hope she’ll focus on all the fun stuff, like a baby shower.
And not focus on the whole watermelon out of a lemon scenario.