19. I’m evaporating
19
I’m evaporating
Electra
“The Guardians of the Galaxy?” I eye the small computer screen Exton has just set up in front of us on the coffee table with skepticism. “What in the world is that?”
He talked me—or rather forced me—into watching a movie tonight with him because, and I quote, another silent night in this house and he will lose his mind. To which I rolled my eyes and told him to go have fun on his own and that I was just fine here with my book. But, of course, Exton doesn’t take no for an answer, so he simply lifted me from my bed without as much as a warning and brought me to the couch with him.
And I tried really hard to sound all annoyed with him while secretly taming down the hordes of butterflies beating against my frozen insides. The ice on which is thinning by days, or rather hours, with him and I know I should put more space between us, to guard myself from thawing completely, but he makes it so damn hard.
Especially after that kiss.
Yeah…
That was…that was…something.
One second, I’m sure this is it, that my soul-crunching panic attack will finally end it all and the next I feel a bucket of hot, skin-tingling sensation washing over me, washing away the icy chill of the memory that he so unknowingly brought out.
I don’t know what’s happening between us. I’m not sure I want anything to be happening between us. No, I’m sure I don’t—can’t—yet that unseen string that’s been growing stronger and tighter between us, is undeniably there.
It’s probably just friendship and I’m freaking out over nothing because a guy like Axe won’t look at a girl like me. At least, not the current edition of me but the sunrise and that look in his eyes after our kiss…and the way his touch felt different today…yeah…
Friends. This is what friendship with a guy feels like, Electra, and you don’t know that because you’ve never had a guy friend. Or many girlfriends either, for that matter.
“Oh, they are a part of The Avengers , but with all the games and training I didn’t get to watch the newest one yet,” he answers with a breeze, unaware of my drilling eyes into his back and stating it like that A word should make sense to me.
Snapping out of my confusing thoughts, I try to look over his huge back that is partially blocking the view to see if anything looked familiar but nope.
“Huh?” I voice my dumbfoundedness, and Exton’s fingers freeze on the laptop that he’s fixing from the best angle and he slowly, very slowly turns his head to look at me while that already extremely tight T-shirt of his molds to his body even more with the movement.
I sigh. Internally. As I will my eyes to look up. To stop staring at him and my mouth to stop producing saliva I’ve been using to drool all over him since the gym.
No, scratch that, since this morning sunrise. Or was it since the day he came here? But my unnecessary thoughts slip away at the affronted look he’s giving me.
“What is that ‘huh’ supposed to mean?” he asks cautiously all while his whiskey eyes start to narrow ever so slightly.
“Um, just, ‘huh?’” I scrunch my nose.
“Please tell me you know who The Avengers are?”
“Is that some kind of hockey team?” I twist my lips and then nearly burst out laughing at his stunned face expression with parted lips. He’s looking at me like I’m an alien.
Without another word, Exton whips around back to the computer, turning off whatever that guardians thing was and typing extra fast and hard until a new movie pops up.
“Get ready,” he says, settling back into the couch, and I don’t know what I expected, but definitely not him sitting right next to me or lifting my legs and depositing them onto his lap with his strong arm casually slung over them. Not that I can feel it, but at the same time, I do.
My legs, on his lap…
I stare at Exton’s hard profile, blinking and trying to remember what he just said but my mind draws blank because, my legs, on his lap …
Finally, my brain kick-starts and my tone is a touch too throaty for my liking. “Get ready for what?”
“To have your mind blown because we are starting from the top.”
He definitely doesn’t mean what my mind conjured up…starting from the top and mind blown. Get a grip, Electra!
“From the top?” I ask, still feeling off and he turns his head, sending me one of his dazzling grins that doesn’t help to keep all that ice intact.
“Yep, I’ll make a Marvel fan out of you, little star. But please don’t drool over Captain America too much, okay?”
None of what he’s saying makes sense, but the movie starts, and he shushes me to stop talking, motioning to the screen.
I’ve never watched anything like this. Action and fantasy or whatever you call this wasn’t my thing. Romance? Sure. But even those I watched maybe once every few months. Erik wasn’t a fan of anything, preferring to have friends over for his fancy cocktail hours and all that or we were simply training nonstop, yet as minutes pass, the scenes flashing on the screen in front of me, I find myself eating it up.
And I didn’t even flinch at the memory of my ex’s name…
Exton makes little comments here and there, helping me understand what’s going on since he apparently watched the first Captain America a few times already and every time there is an intense moment on the screen, his hand that is still on my legs squeezes them.
I can’t feel the action itself, but I’m very much aware of it. My whole body is.
I keep expecting him to pull away, to move into a more comfortable position, but the longer the movie is going the more familiar he gets, gliding the palm of his hand over my thighs, massaging my weak muscles like he did in the gym this morning. And the gesture sends a ripple of tinges over my skin.
“So, you like it? The best parts are coming soon,” he says halfway through the movie, pulling my thoughts back into the right gear.
“I think I can get behind this movie.”
“Yeah? The plot is really good, right? And all the effects! It gets better and better with each movie,” he asks with excitement, and I almost feel bad when I add, “Mm-hmm, Captain America is hot! I can watch that bare chest all day and night long.” And the smile on his face falls so fast it’s almost comical. I’m downright holding in my laugh when he pinches me, sending a glare my way.
“Maybe I shouldn’t show you Thor then, you are already drooling all over your shirt,” he grumbles, and I roll my lips to hide my smile at his petty tone. “Didn’t get that reaction when I was shirtless,” he adds in a hushed voice, but I catch it anyway and my breath hitches.
Is he…jealous? But no, he’s just joking because Exton Quinn couldn’t care any less if I look at him like that.
“I am not,” I protest, going back to where I’m comfortable but before I can say another word, Exton leans into me, eyeing me like a predator in a wild jungle. I feel his hand inching toward my mouth as the slightly rough pads of his fingers drag down my bottom lip in agonizingly slow motion, as if he is feeling every crack and groove on it.
My mouth parts in shock, or at least I hope it’s shock and not something entirely different but still, Exton’s eyes are now glued to my mouth, his breathing slightly faster than it was a second ago.
“See? Drooling.” His voice is gruff like gravel as he pulls his fingers off my lips and my gaze falls on his thumb where sure enough and to my utter embarrassment, there is a drop of saliva on it.
Only, I’m not so sure it’s for Chris Evans. Without thinking, I sink my teeth into the lip he just touched and my mouth floods with his taste. A shudder runs through me. As something shakes him as well.
What the hell is going on with me? Why do I have such a reaction to this lunatic all of a sudden? I close my eyes for a second, trying to get my bearing when I hear Exton growling.
“Electra.”
I don’t know what that means. Why he’s saying my name like that, as if he’s the one in pain and I don’t want to know. I don’t need another disappointment in my life when I’m just somewhat climbing out of the last one.
“I promise to keep my drool to a minimum, but now you must show me this Thor guy, I need some new material for my lonely nights.” I go back to what’s familiar. To jokes and taunts.
Exton doesn’t respond though and we both turn our attention back to the movie as I will my body to calm down which is hard, because Exton never took his hand off me. In fact, he moved it up, to my upper thigh and holds it as one would hold his woman’s with his hand sneaking in between both legs and holding me protectively.
That same hand that has bandages over it.
By the time the credits are rolling, I’m begging Exton to turn on whatever movie is up next, and he grumbles some more about creating a monster, but indulges me anyway.
It’s almost three AM when my attention is pulled away from the movie when I see his hand twitching on my leg, followed by a soft snore. I look over and find my burly hockey player asleep, his mouth parted and his face peaceful.
A smile tugs on my lips at the sight. Such a conundrum, this guy is. Every time I think I’ve got him figured out, he proves me wrong and that would be okay, if all those sides wouldn’t be pulling me into him like a moth to a flame.
A stupid moth that will burn in his fire, or rather, an ice cube that will become a puff of air after he leaves, yet my hands reach out to him nonetheless as my own fingers lightly brush away that stray curl that keeps falling over his face.
It’s soft and warm and comforting.
Exton doesn’t stir at my light touch, making me feel bolder and infinitely more stupid. I lace my fingers deeper into his strands, running them through the dark, curly mess until I hear a soft purr come from his throat.
I startle, pulling my hand away but he seems to be chasing it because he is slipping down, his body falling past my legs, following the retreating fingers while he’s sound asleep and before I realize what’s happening, Exton is sprawled over my body, his face just above my waistline and I’m not breathing.
Oh my God…
It takes a solid minute for me to unfreeze and regain my breath before I try to dislodge from him, but then I remember he carried me here and my chair is back in the room. Great, there is no way for me to get out of here without waking him up.
So, do it. My brain taunts me. Wake him up and get away from Exton.
I lift my hand to shake him, but stop midway, instead stalling, and then my open palm curls into a fist as I pull it away.
It’s not much different than how we sleep in the bed, is it? So, why wake Exton up when he seems so at peace. He must be exhausted from his errant and the gym. At least that’s what I tell myself to make my brain shut up. To make it stop chanting that we are going to get hurt. Again.
But I can’t, I can’t wake him.
No, I can only sit here, in a half lying position with him partially covering my body and watch those puffy lips parted and smashed against my body as tiny drops of drool are already starting to pool around my shirt. Watch his eyes flutter softly, those thick, long lashes lying against his soft skin, his crease-free forehead that I run my fingers over and smile at how cute this hulk looks when he’s asleep.
But it’s not until I go back to playing with his hair that Exton stirs again, and I brace myself for whatever crap he’ll come up with when he realizes where he’s sleeping. However, he doesn’t wake up. Oh, no.
Exton brings both of his arms up and around my waist, sneaking them behind me and then lowers one until it’s cupping my butt cheek. At least, I think that’s where it ends up…and squeezes me to him like he would a pillow.
Oh, God… I yelp softly, bracing my hands on his shoulders and I’m almost positive I’ll wake him up now but while I’m trying to decide what to do, my own eyelids start feeling heavy with sleep, my whole body relaxed and warm. Safe.
And the last thought I have before sleep takes me is I’m evaporating …
“Angry elve, no, two sunriseses in a rouw ith too much,” I hear Exton mumble incoherently though my own haze of sleep and I try to blink it away, but I’m still way too comfortable to wake up.
“I’m not the one waking you up, asshole. Shhh,” I mumble back, slapping my hand on his back, or whatever it is I’m slapping, and it seems that he went back to sleep but I, on the other hand, get assaulted with the memories of last night.
Movie night.
I’m not in my bed.
I’m on the couch.
Exton fell asleep on top of me.
Oh, God, I forgot about that but wait a minute… I drop my hand back down and it smacks against his body again, this time with a groan from him, but it’s not Exton’s back I’m smacking.
Is that…his chest? I run my hand through it again, this time patting all over the place, up and down to figure out what exactly I’m touching, and I gasp when my fingers reach the unmistakable edge of his sweatpants.
“Angry elf, if you’re gonna keep feeling me up like this, we’re gonna have a problem. And I do mean we .” I feel his arm close around me, and I yelp, yanking my hand back up and feel his mouth curl into a smile.
Wait, I feel his mouth? I freeze, realizing one more interesting fact that I somehow missed until now.
Exton is not on top of me.
I am on top of Exton.
Oh, dear Lord…
“Shhh, I was having a very good dream, and I’d like to go back to it,” he murmurs into my hair, his hot breath skittering across my skin like tiny ice pricks at the same time as he presses me harder into his body.
Fuck me…I stop breathing when I feel his erection—that is very prominent in his sweatpants—dig into my lower belly.
“Mm-hmm, that kind of dream,” he says salaciously.
“Jesus Christ! Exton!” I yell out, slapping my hand across my burning face, but since I’m plastered on top of him, I end up slapping him more than myself and he groans again, the sound somehow making his lower body move and rub his very hard cock against me and my heartrate skyrockets.
Because I felt that.
And not in my lower stomach. No, I felt it there. In my core.
A delicious tickle shot right through my pussy for the first time in almost two months and I’m terrified to allow any trickle of hope to slide through my ice. It was just a fluke. A phantom feeling like I sometimes feel my legs moving but they aren’t.
Swallowing those thoughts, I ask, “H-how did I end up on top of you?”
“Hmm, you prefer to be on the bottom? No problem, I’ll remember for the next time,” Exton throws out casually while my cheeks can’t possibly get any more flushed. God, I wish I could get up and away from him right now.
Why does he have to know what he does to me? Can’t I just die in peace? At least he can’t see my embarrassment in this position.
I smack his chest. “Stop that! I’m serious. The last thing I remember was you falling asleep on top of me and I couldn’t possibly move your hulk body, so I fell asleep here too. Thanks for that, by the way,” I add sourly, even though I don’t actually feel any of it. And I didn’t try all that hard to move him. Or wake him up.
I liked it too much to complain. I slept too well to be angry. But I should be.
“My, angry elf, I do like to start my mornings with compliments. Please keep going. Hint, hint: my cock is begging for some attention, in case you couldn’t tell.”
I choke on my own saliva at his crass words, the action making my body stir and rub along his length and Exton slaps his hand on my ass, stilling me.
“Electra.” His voice carries a hint of danger in it. “That was a rhetorical comment. Do not give him extra incentive.”
“Y-you…you…”
“Me what?”
Damn it, I can’t come up with anything good enough, or something that won’t sound as desperate as I suddenly feel. Desperate to give him just about anything he wants, and there’s no way I can do that.
Not with Exton. Or anyone else. So, I just throw out, “You are crazy.”
Exton exhales loudly. “Yes, that seems to be the case.” He sighs in resignation that makes no sense to me but before I can say anything else or demand to be taken back to my chair, he slides his fingers into my hair, eliciting a rush of goosebumps through each hair follicle and grips it hard pulling my head up until my eyes meet his hooded ones.
I should scream, slap his hand away or at least be angry with him for treating me so roughly, but instead…I like it.
I’ve never been handled like that. In a way that is not demeaning but possessive. Hot. And it makes my skin heat up.
“Go back to sleep, Electra. Don’t say another word and go to sleep. Please,” he begs with a touch of demand laced in between the words. His eyes beg. The bobbing of his Adam’s apple begs, but his hand on my hair demands and my throat feels dry. Too dry to talk or answer his silent plea.
It’s that look in his eye that I answer to, though. The one that tells me he’s fighting himself right now and I really don’t want to interfere.
Not now. Not yet.
So, I nod, bobbing my head up and down like a doll and lay my head back on his chest. But I still want to know. “How did I end up on top of you?”
Exton takes a deep breath. “I moved us around. I’m not a small guy as you like to say, and I was squishing your legs.”
“It’s not like it matters. I can’t feel them anyway.”
“Yet. You can’t feel them yet.” The conviction in his voice breaks yet another piece inside of me. But I don’t want to break anymore. I have enough cracks in my ice and if he wants to be the one gluing it back maybe I should let him.
Exton
Her breathing evens out after a while as her body relaxes on top of mine, but I’m far away from doing the same. Me and my throbbing cock who is begging to have more, to feel more of her. To sink into her sweet pussy, warm mouth, and tight ass.
He wants it all and he’s not willing to compromise. The fucker has zero cool or an ounce of patience, but my little star is not there yet.
She’s healing, but she’s still holding onto one too many secrets and hurts that keep eating away at her. And as someone who is constantly battling those hungry motherfuckers, I know she won’t move on until they are buried under that thick ice out there.
Alongside mine.
Because it’s time. It’s time for me to fight too and for her…I will.
I still don’t understand how this happened. How she crawled under my skin. Logically, nothing about this makes any fucking sense. I am not normally attracted to girls like Electra and I’m not talking about her wheelchair situation. In fact, I don’t seem to notice it at all, or rather, I don’t see her as disabled or a cripple, despite me calling her that. That’s not why I do it.
No, all I see when I look at Electra Monroe, all I feel, is this insane pull. The need to be next to her, with her, near her—in her. Yeah, I know I’m fucking losing it, tell me something I don’t know, but I can’t stop.
She was drooling over a fictional character last night and I just about put my fist through that screen.
Normal? I don’t think so. My new reality? Seems like it.
Was I aware of falling asleep on top of Electra?
Maybe.
Will I admit to it?
Do I look like a masochist to you?
I waited until she was deeply asleep before twisting us, so she’d be the one top of me. Electra might not believe in her ability to walk again, but I simply know it’ll happen. Soon. She’s too stubborn to let the injury hold her much longer, I just need to keep pushing, keep working, keep dragging her will out of her.
I might’ve fallen for Electra the way she is, bound to that wheelchair and her spirit broken, but I think I love her too much to let her stay in it.
Fuck… I didn't think love was possible. I didn't think it was real and not bullshit, they used to sell romance movies. And I damn sure didn't expect to find it in this five-foot-three angry elf. But I'm not sure what else to call this all-consuming feeling.