Page 63

I watched the corded lines of his throat work in laughter, the sound prickling my skin in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
No, nothing about it was unpleasant.
Everything about watching Elliot laugh, with the backdrop of the ocean and the buzz from the wine I’d consumed earlier, was perfect.
He stopped laughing, yet he didn’t stop smiling, that easy, contagious and impossibly warm smile.
“I’m glad that at least one part of me has your esteem,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll keep working to ensure you miss what’s attached to my cock in due time.” His voice was thick with teasing. “But as it stands, you’ll be reunited with my cock soon.” He paused, the smile morphing into something that wasn’t as laidback or warm. This smile burned through my clothes, my skin, scalding my very insides.
“If you’re a good girl,” he added, his voice a raspy drawl.
I jolted before I could think to steal myself and hold on to my mask.
Years. I had years of training to not let men affect me. Not once had I slipped. Not even with Jasper.
I straightened my spine, rendering my expression neutral. Cold. But the damage had been done. Elliot had picked up on my reaction. It was impossible not to, considering the way he watched me like I was the only thing worth watching on that beach.
“Well, I suppose we’ve given my family and friends enough of a show.” I was done with the conversation. “And I assume I won’t be able to convince you to leave.”
He tilted his head with a smile. “Unfortunately not. I was invited. Leaving would be rude. And I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”
I clenched my fists at my sides, swallowing my need to argue. It seemed to serve as foreplay between us. And my body was already eager for him.
Instead of replying to him, I turned back to the house. Although my steps were shorter, slower, knowing that I’d be the victim of teasing, jokes, and worse, hope. My family and friends were prone to that. Hoping for happy endings.
Which I was far too cynical about, but even I could’ve deny that there was something in the water around Jupiter since the place seemed to be happily ever after central.
Still, I was a realist, and I understood these people, whom I loved and was immensely happy for. But they were the exception, not the rule.
They wouldn’t listen to reason when I told them Elliot and I were just sex. They would nod condescendingly with light in their eyes, planning a fucking wedding.
So I dragged my feet in the sand. Not just because I wasn’t wearing the shoes for it.
And maybe because I also was greedy to remain near Elliot.
When Elliot threaded his fingers into mine as we made our way back up the path to Nora and Rowan’s backyard, I ripped my hand away.
“Absolutely fucking not,” I snapped. “I do not hold hands. Especially not in front of a bunch of romantic assholes who are already too involved in this.” I gestured between us angrily. “Holding hands is for teenagers and idiots, of which I am neither. And we are not together. We’re fucking.”
Elliot’s smile didn’t dim any as I said all of this, he just watched me like I was a toddler having a tantrum he found adorable. Which made no sense since I’d been around plenty of toddler tantrums as an aunt, and they most certainly were not adorable.
I stomped ahead in front of him, intent on creating distance that didn’t make logical sense since I’d already screwed up by kissing him. I was off-kilter in a way I hadn’t been in my entire adult life. It was my trademark to stay cool, unruffled in any kind of situation. In boardrooms with billionaires yelling, threatening to ruin me, in darkened offices with heads of crime organizations… In all of those scenarios, I had kept my cool. Yet there on the beach with Elliot, I was akin to a chicken running around with its head cut off.
His hand curled around my wrist to haul me back to him. Our lips met again, though this time, it wasn’t a furious crash of need. No, he grasped my chin softly, and his lips moved delicately, slowly. Tenderly.
And I let it happen.
I liked it.
As usual, he was smiling when he pulled back from my lips, and I was greedy for more, breathing rapidly and appalled at my body’s response. No one, no one had kissed me like that before. I hadn’t let them. Wouldn’t let them. Moreover, I hadn’t wanted to let them, hadn’t found anything remotely attractive about kissing like that. It felt belittling, somehow.
Yet with Elliot, it felt empowering. Like I held this man in the palm of my hand. The kind of power I had thought I enjoyed having over men made me feel vaguely sick when I thought of using it on Elliot.
I didn’t want him anywhere near me. I couldn’t trust myself not to ruin him. Yet I couldn’t be the cause of that smile dimming. I hadn’t realized how cold I’d been while living in the shadows, and Elliot’s smile was sunshine. Greedily, selfishly, I wanted to bask in the sunlight for a little while longer. I didn’t say anything, didn’t allow myself to snap at him, just stared into his eyes.
“I know you’re not an idiot, or a teenager, despite what your flawless skin communicates.” He winked, grabbing my hand again. “But you’ll humor me, for now, and you’ll hold my fucking hand.” His voice stayed serene, casual, despite the order punctuated with a curse word.
Again, I had the ability to spit proverbial tacks back at him, to rip my hand from his and properly stomp away.