Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“Says you,” he shot back. “Your Instagram is very low key. There’s like two shots of London at sunset then approximately twelve thousand pictures of coffee? Don’t you have any friends?” My laugh faltered and Elliot winced. “That wasn’t meant to be a rhetorical question.”
“I’m light on friends.” Bex and Dan formed the bulk of my social life nowadays, thanks to work.
“I get that,” he said. “It’s not easy, is it?”
“Hang on.” Something occurred to me. “Did you Google me?”
His cheeks pinked adorably. “Due diligence.”
“What can I say, my name is Lucie and I like sunsets and hot coffee,” I said with a shrug.
The carousel gave another heave, jolting me into his broad, hard chest. “Sorry.” I pulled away reluctantly, cringing as I realized I’d left a smear of saliva on his shirt.
Great, I was actually drooling on him. “Sorry,” I said again.
“It’s an improvement on partially digested pastry,” he said with a dry laugh.
I closed my eyes in humiliation. “My name is Lucie, and I am also a hot mess.”
“One of those descriptions might be true.” Elliot’s tone was teasing, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made the loop-the-loops in my stomach return with a vengeance.
He was flirting, I wasn’t imagining this.
So why wasn’t I saying anything? Why was it so impossible for me in that moment to shoot back a witty retort or a suggestive comment?
London Lucie usually had no problem with efficiently moving things along in these sorts of scenarios.
But I couldn’t do it. It was as if the sensation in my stomach had crawled up my throat to paralyze my vocal cords.
Elliot coughed awkwardly. “Anyway, social media, all that. I don’t see the point.”
The topic had returned to safer ground, and I could speak again. “You’re missing it,” I said. “When you’re a big-name director, you might want some kind of online presence.”
Elliot smiled softly. “It’s cute you think I will be a big name one day.
” He swayed along with the motion of the carousel, and I pretended I didn’t clock the way his bicep swelled against the confines of his shirt when he gripped the pole and shifted into a steadier position looming directly over me.
“Anyway, what about you? Gunning for Sadie’s job? ”
“Her job is the ultimate dream,” I said. “Ooh, she said something really nice to me this morning.”
“Oh, she showed you basic human respect?” he said. “You must have done something right.”
“She said you and I created magic,” I told him. “That I have a bright future.”
“Strong praise,” Elliot said with a whistle. “But she’s right.”
“About what? My future or our magic?”
“That would be telling,” he said.
“No no no.” I sat up straight. “I want to hear all about how great I am. Proceed.”
Elliot took a deep breath, then looked deep into my eyes. “Lucie Clifton. You rocked this script. You have more talent, more fire, more … drive than most people I’ve met and …” His voice faltered.
“And what?” Professionalism be damned; I leaned towards him, reveling in the heat that flared in his eyes.
“And … you’re so damn sure of yourself.” He brushed the errant curl off my face again and every cell of my body blazed with desire.
I wanted him so much I didn’t care if the distraction ruined my career, if RJ sacked me and sent me home.
It would be worth it just to know what it felt like to have Elliot’s weight upon me, to kiss that full mouth of his and to have him kiss me back.
I was dizzy with the wanting and it was utterly terrifying.
Never in my whole adult life had a man ever derailed my ambition like this.
My inner tumult was clearly showing all over my face, because Elliot dropped his hand. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“No, don’t be.” God, what to say, what to do? “I am, I mean, I have been. Sure of myself, that is. Until now.”
“What changed?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
He was the change, this brilliant man with bruised knuckles and a tender heart.
He potentially posed the biggest threat to my career, and yet I didn’t care, which was the biggest change of all.
His eyes burned into mine and in them I could see uncertainty waging a losing war with desire.
It was hopeless and he knew it too. Why were we denying this force between us?
My heart thudded as he pushed closer and snaked his hand up my jaw to thread his fingers through my hair.
“Tell me what changed.” His demand was so softly spoken I could barely hear him over the discordant harmonies of the carousel.
“Everything,” I breathed.
Elliot’s lips crashed against mine, hot and sweet, as his hand tugged my hair to tilt my head back.
He groaned into my mouth, his tongue languorous against mine, and while one hand remained holding the carousel pole, the other snared my waist to tug me against his body and I cursed the layers of fabric separating me from his skin.
For years, I’d thought the casual encounters with conveniently available men had been enough to sustain me, but Elliot’s kiss was a thunderous wake-up call to the fact that I had been starving my whole adult life.
I’d wanted this man’s touch for so long and now it burned me just as much as it thrilled me.
His hand drifted under the hem of my top to graze my torso and the feeling of his rough fingers against my bare skin sparked a trembling deep in my core, pooling electricity between my legs.
We came up for air, breathing heavily, foreheads pressed together.
“We should stop,” he murmured into my hair.
Dazed, lips swollen, I shook my head. “It was getting so good.”
Elliot gulped. “Too good.” He clasped me tighter and I felt his arousal dig into my thigh.
Jesus Christ. There was a hedonistic part of me, pulsing with blood and fire, that sorely wanted to find a dark corner of this place so he could have his way with me, but we remained in this clinch, our breathing hard and desperate for the remainder of the ride.
The carousel stopped and Elliot helped me off the horse, keeping hold of my hand as we disembarked, observed by the smirking operator. “Hey, man, maybe next time book a hotel room.”
Elliot didn’t even deign to reply, and we emerged from the carousel onto the brightness of the boardwalk. My legs were shaking as around me people just carried on their business of pleasure in the sun and I tried to act as though I wasn’t being driven mad with desire.
“That was …” Elliot gulped.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Can we do that again?”
He smiled slowly, sweetly and grabbed my hand, raising my knuckles to his mouth. “Oh, we’re doing that again.” He glanced around and laughed. “Maybe not in the presence of so many children next time?”
I laughed. Some of the families on the carousel with us were passing, shaking their heads in disapproval. “It got inappropriate.”
Elliot locked eyes with me, his lips drifting over the back of my hand. “I don’t care.”
“Me neither.” His lips were now brushing the tips of my fingers and when his tongue gently brushed the pad of my thumb, I thought I might detonate. “What happens now?” I asked breathlessly.
He grinned wickedly. “What do you think?”
“It’s the middle of the day!” I said, mock-scandalized.
He checked his phone for the time. “It’s almost – ah, shit.”
“RJ?” I guessed, with a sinking feeling.
“RJ,” he said. “We have some feedback. I guess playing hooky is over. Back to work.” He sighed.
“Oh yeah.” I scowled. “Stupid work.”
“We can be professional,” Elliot said hoarsely, gazing hungrily at my mouth. “We can get the work done before we focus on anything else.”
“Right.” I nodded unconvincingly. “We just need to avoid temptation.”
The subway journey back to Manhattan was torture; there were delays on the line, so the train was packed, and we had to stand the whole way, wedged up against each other surrounded by noisy, chattering people.
We finally emerged from underground, sweaty and unbelievably turned on, but as I tapped my phone to pay the fare, I noticed I had several missed calls from Bex. I fired off a quick text:
Can I call you later? BIG news re Boner Rage
As we approached the RJF building I tugged on Elliot’s arm to stop. He paused, raised my hand to his lips. “What’s wrong?”
I had no idea that knuckles could be an erogenous zone, for a start.
I swallowed and forced myself to speak. “How are we handling, this, in there?” I pointed towards our building.
“RJ’s feelings about workplace romance aside, quite frankly I don’t want to be judged by anyone.
Sadie has only just stopped seeing me as a liability. ”
“We can be discreet,” Elliot said. He gave my knuckles one last kiss and then let go of my hand, gesturing to the office entrance. “After you.” We began to walk but then he stopped me and lowered his mouth to my ear. “You should know, the server password is CoppolaLumet65.”
“You’re finally trusting me with it?” I said, shivering as his lips grazed my neck.
He pulled back, eyes on mine. “Oh, I’m going to make you earn it.”