Page 29

TWENTY-NINE

BECCA

“You okay?”

Eli’s voice floats through the air, caressing my damaged soul, but the wounds are too deep, and even his balm doesn’t curb the sting.

I nod my head, sinking into the nook of his arm as we lie on his bed.

Eli has this way of knowing what I need before I can verbalize it. Took one look at me when I showed up and walked me to his room, pushed me on the bed, and fucked me so hard he left bruises.

His fingers ghost up and down my arms, goose bumps sprouting to mark the places he’s touched.

“Have your folks always been such assholes?”

“Not always,” I murmur. “When I was little, they used to be like any other folk, I guess. Or maybe I was just blind to what was really goin’ on.”

Looking back, it seems more likely I was an unknowing participant of a carefully crafted show. Probably would have played my part forever if I hadn’t stumbled behind the scenes and ruined the whole damn storyline.

“It doesn’t matter anyway.” I sigh. “I’m used to them bein’ who they are. I just don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

I taste salt on my lips and realize tears have been trickling down my face, soaking into Eli’s skin. He doesn’t acknowledge the proof of my pain, and a gooey warmth spreads through my chest—I’m so damn thankful he knows not to bring it up.

“What do you want to do?” Eli’s palm grazes against my jaw as he angles my head toward him.

“I wanna stay here, in Florida. Figure out what the hell I’m gonna do with my life. But I don’t know how to make that happen when I’ve got nothin’.” My eyes close and I lean into his touch, reveling in the comfort.

“You’ve got me,” he whispers.

My eyes snap open, latching on to his. A tsunami of this… feeling rises up and crashes against the edges of my soul, sweeping me away in its wake. Desperation claws at my insides, and I dive into him, molding our lips, needing him to steal away the sensation before it drowns me with its power.

My hands cup his face, melding us together.

I need him closer.

His arms tighten around my waist and he rolls us, his large frame settling over me. I moan into his mouth, his thickness pressing into the junction between my thighs. We’re still naked from earlier, and I thank God there’s nothing to slow this down. Not when my need is so all-consuming.

He breaks our kiss, his head leaning back, thumbs sweeping across my cheeks as he cradles my face. The intensity of his gaze sizzles in my stomach, and my breath snags on the feeling.

He swallows, his grip tightening along my jaw. “Becca, I lo?—”

My heart crashes against my sternum. My finger trembles as I push it against his lips. “Don’t.”

The lines between his brows crease.

Reaching down, I wrap my fingers around his thick cock, feeling it jump against the palm of my hand. I push my upper body off the bed, stroking him, our breath mixing in the space between us. My hips start a slow grind, his tip dragging through my folds as my hand works his length. He pants, his teeth grazing my bottom lip.

I move him to my entrance. “I don’t want your words. I need you to show me.”

I’m not lying, although deep down, I can recognize I’m stopping him from saying things that will monumentally change everything forever.

His eyes darken. I pull him in at the same time he drops down, and I cry out from being so full, relief pouring through my veins that he isn’t pushing the subject. Why ruin a good thing?

He’s seated deep inside me, hip to hip. There isn’t an inch of our bodies not connected, but I don’t feel confined from his touch. I feel free.

Eli grasps my arms, pushing them above my head. His fingertips skim along my skin, prickles of electricity sinking into my pores. My blood is a conductor, spreading the current, striking my heart into a faster cadence.

Our fingers link, and his palms push my hands deeper into the mattress as he finally, finally, moves.

I moan as he pulls out and drives back in.

And then he does what I asked: he shows me.

Heat lances into my core, my pussy walls pulsing around him. He keeps a steady rhythm, his eyes never leaving mine, our lips brushing with each thrust, his touch showing me what I won’t let him say. There’s an intensity in his gaze, and somehow I just know that he sees through me, that he knows this is all I’ll allow him to give—all I’m able to take right now.

This isn’t a power play. It’s not about control.

This is a confession.

Sweat beads along his brow and glistens on his neck. I lean in, licking his salty skin. His Adam’s apple bobs under my tongue, and his hips jerk, the rhythm faltering.

“Christ, Becca,” he breathes, his forehead resting on mine. “I can’t…”

I squeeze our hands, still locked above my head, and I place my mouth on his, unable to resist the call of his lips. His body. His soul.

His taste is heady. My muscles cinch and release, tension looping and tangling until I’m twisted so tight, I can barely breathe.

I break away, gasping in air, careening over the cliff of my pleasure.

My vision goes white.

My ears go numb.

My stomach soars, then sinks, and I cling to Eli’s frame to keep from disintegrating to dust.

I surrender to the fall.

I’m vaguely aware of Eli’s body shaking as he comes deep inside me. He collapses, breathing hard. After a few moments, he rolls to the side.

“Damn.” He chuckles. Facing me, he props his head in his hand, a carefree smile lighting up his face. “Move in with me.”

“Wh…what?” I stutter.

“Yeah.” He grabs my hand, bringing it to his chest. Moving closer, he palms my jaw. “I want to be with you, baby girl.” He pecks my lips. “See you every morning.” Another peck. “Kiss you every night.”

Imagining him by my side each night has my heart floundering in my chest.

“Besides, you need a place to stay anyway, yeah?” He lifts a brow.

I giggle. “You tryin’ to be my white knight, Eli?”

He smirks. “Of course. Don’t you know by now I would move mountains for you?”

My grin stays plastered on my face, but my blood turns glacial, freezing in my veins.

His smile drops. “What just happened? What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, touching my lips to his, trying to kiss away the acrid taste creeping onto the back of my tongue. “Nothin’s wrong. I’ll think about it, okay?”

His grip on my jaw tightens. “Becca…I love you.”

No.

My eyes squeeze tight, my head turning to the side.

His hand pulls me back. “You know that, right? I’m so damn lost in my love for you.”

I nod sharply at his words, my fingers tugging on my curls.

“Becca?” His voice is soft, pleading.

I don’t open my eyes.

With a deep sigh, he kisses my forehead and leaves the bed.

My eyes snap open, my gut burning with the need to call him back, but the screams in my head stop the words on my tongue.

It’s late when Eli finally comes back and falls asleep.

Silence blankets the ground, but the quiet is a fraud. Momma’s voice drains from my mind to my heart, piercing holes through the tissue, leaching away the serenity I’ve worked so hard to find. My body fights the intrusion, desperate to stay whole. Anguished in its plea to forget that Eli spoke pretty words I begged him not to say.

But I can’t forget.

I don’t want to be Eli’s disease.

Sliding out of the bed, I’m careful not to wake him as I pick up my clothes. Halfway through putting on my jeans, realization of what I’m doing hits and my heart splinters, the shards prodding against my lungs. My hand covers my mouth to muffle the cry.

I pause at the bedroom door. My hand shakes against the metal knob, causing a sharp rattle to puncture the calm air. My blurry eyes close, and I focus on the noise. Anything to keep me from turning around.

It doesn’t work and I look anyway.

Eli’s sleeping peacefully. Beautifully. Perfectly. My heart sputters and falls, diving into my stomach and laying there to bleed.

“There was a time I thought that man would move mountains for me.”

I will not become my momma.

With a deep breath, I turn the handle and slip out the door.