Delusive (10 page)

“She’s not exclusive to you,” Skylar responded, forestalling my response and making her presence known on the terrace.
 

“If I was addressing you, I would’ve called your name.” Elias never disengaged his locked stare on me when he coldly addressed Skylar.

“Skylar, give us a moment alone,” I pleaded with her, keeping my eyes on Elias.
 

The hard clicking of her heels, slowly fading in the background, told me she did exactly as asked.
 

“We didn’t arrive together,” I began. “And we haven’t spoken in a week. Neither of us were clear on what this is other than a friendship. All those things send a message to me loud and clear that we are not, in fact, dating. Second, I told you I was bringing someone.” The last sentence was a lie I wanted to know if he’d catch. “Third, Skylar was right. We are just getting to know one another. I don’t think boundaries should be set so early, especially when I’m not sure about you yet.”

My words seemed to piss him off more. I couldn’t help myself from showing how much I enjoyed making him react this way; I smirked.
 

He narrowed his eyes at me, his anger tempering. He moved to stand by my side, whispering down into my ear, “Follow me.” He didn’t give me a choice in the matter. Clutching my hand, he forced my reluctant feet to follow him. He pulled me through the grand room to the narrow hall in the back of the building. Silence hung thickly between us as he marched down the corridor. The sterile white space was made a little less clinical by the hodgepodge of black and white artistic photos along the wall.
 

As he pulled me at a quickened speed, the sound of my shoes and his hitting the floor created a chaotic symphony. He stopped at a set of double doors to the right, rendering the hall a dead end. He pushed the doors open and ushered me inside.
 

The room was lit solely by an LCD art installation on the far wall. Square ottomans were pushed together and situated in the center of the room. I stared at the screen showcasing multi-colored swirling light designs in a constant motion, adding an array of colors to the otherwise dark room.

“Sit,” he snapped, pointing to the ottoman directly in front of him.

Without processing his request, my legs gave out and I sat down, obeying his order. “Wow. You’re really, really angry about this.”

He remained standing, furrowing his brow as he looked down at me. “It’s exactly what you wanted me to be. Angry. You wanted to make me jealous, or at the very least, find out if you could. I have no issues with tests, Hanley. I’ve never had to study for a single one. There is a very fine line between testing me and manipulating the situation into an immature game. I don’t enjoy the latter of the two.”

“I didn’t want to come with that guy, honestly,” I explained. “Skylar is hard to say no to. She bribed me into coming with him. I’m not
with
him.” I folded my arms to protect myself from the chill in the room. The air vents seemed to be right over my head and blew arctic cold air over my body. With my shoulders exposed, goose bumps began to appear on my skin. “Maybe I was testing you, Elias. Maybe I don’t think you're dating material because of the way you behaved when you saw me with someone else.”

“Hanley,” he drawled, stepping closer. Bending forward, he pressed his palms down on the cushions on either side of my legs. His face neared mine, increasing the less than breathable heat between us. “You’re playing a very dangerous game with me.”

“Do I look like I’m incapable of handling danger? You don’t scare me.”

He lurched forward, placing his hands on my hips and forced me to lean back on the ottomans. The abrupt action made the skirt portion of my dress slide up my legs and pool around my hips. I tried to push the layers back down and regain my modesty, but he quickly circumvented the action by spreading my legs and placing his body between them. Wrapping his hands around my wrists, he pinned them above my head with a crushing force that made me wince. Brushing his nose across my cheek, he worked his way to my mouth and expelled a stream of cool air that flittered around my lips.
 

My breathing turned ragged. My blinking slowed to a lazy rate.
 

“I know I frighten you,” he began coolly and quietly. “Don’t pretend it’s changed. The interesting fact is, you like the fear, Hanley. If I touched you here”—he pushed his hips forward, pressing his pelvis between my legs—“I know I would be proven right.”

“I—”

Shaking his head, he pressed an index finger down across my lips. “I have a network of people who are loyal to me. It very much ensures I run this town. If I don’t want you seeing anyone else, you will not see anyone else. From this night forward, I am the only man you are allowed to see.”

My sexual arousal was overruled by my anger. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

His fingers dug painfully into my wrist and he rested the full extent of his lower half against me. The slow thumping between us—his erection—pressed against the crux of legs and down the inside of my thigh. “Who I am is someone who wants fuck you very badly right now. And I’m not talking about a sweet, slow session where I tease every inch of your body, making you feel wanted and desired. I want to fuck you hard and pull you so far under my control, you will scream an apology for your behavior over and over again until I’m satisfied—until I think I’ve punished you enough and you deserve my forgiveness.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “The kind of fuck that will make you walk bowlegged for weeks, Hanley.”

My lips continuously moved without words.
 

“I wouldn’t get excited if were I you. With the game you’re playing, I’m going to prolong your wait for as long as I possibly can. I will never be anyone’s puppet, not even yours.” His lips swayed back and forth across my mouth, teasing me. His tongue tickled my lips, turning up the heat rising in the middle of us to an unbearable level. “When we go downstairs, you’re going to get rid of the
boy
who isn’t worthy of you. Then, you’re going to tell Skylar what I told you. If she tries to engage you in a charade again, say only one word to her: Cabo.”

When I tried to speak again, he stopped me. “No questions. This is what we’re going to do from now on. You. Me. If you put anyone else in between us again, I will remove them.” He clenched my wrists tighter, steadying my nervous shakes. “I remember how wet your pussy was the night you came for me. I know you want me. Are you going to give up the game and be honest with me?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

Shifting his hold, he held my wrists in one hand and ran his thumb across my bottom lip. “I need to hear it from your mouth.”
 

“I want you, Elias.”

He slowly grinned, brushing his lips against mine. “Show me how badly you want me.”
 

He released one of my wrists from his hold. The fingers of his right hand crawled down my body, stopping at the hem of my panties. He clutched the material, grabbing and yanking, tearing them from my body with a ferocious force. His eyes flickered as he leveled his stare, pushing me to follow his orders.

I slowly slipped my hand down my irregularly moving stomach and over the layers of the skirt portion of my dress until I touched my warm, wet slit. He watched the movement of my hand while I slid one finger inside. He immediately removed my hand and slammed it above my head, joining it with the other he kept pinned down.

His hand slowly crawled down my body, heading for an area he shouldn’t have been permitted to touch—at least not yet.

“No,” I stated firmly, but my voice barely carried.

His stare burned right through me, threatening me not to speak any further. “No is a very negative word that I don’t too much care for.” He slid his hand farther down, stopping short at my hip, circling the skin over my hipbone with the light touch of his fingertips.

I bit my lip to stifle a whimper. His touch, both wanted and unwanted, moved my body in involuntary ways. It was better than I imagined when I pretended my hands were his. I felt guilty for enjoying it and inviting him to touch the part of me that would’ve revealed one of my secrets. “Stop. I don’t want you to touch me there.”

Ceasing the movement of his hand, he examined me with a smirk. “Really?” he asked, the incredulity cutting into the simple word. “Are you scared I’ll find out that you’re a bullshit artist? It’s too late. I already know that you are.” His mouth slid down my jawline to kiss a sensitive area of my neck, igniting my skin with a pleasurable sizzle. “Tell me the truth.”

“I want your fingers inside of me,” I conceded, the tonality of my voice scratchy and thin.

He was painstakingly slow with the way his hand moved from my hip to my pussy. His thumb stroked my slit up and down and circled over my clit. He touched me just enough to make me burn for him, but not enough to give me any semblance of a release through pleasure.
 

His kissed me softly, whispering against my mouth, “You’re dripping wet.” Sinking his teeth into the swell of my lip, he pulled it apart from my teeth. He scraped his teeth against my bottom lip as he released the sore, plump flesh from his torture. “Provoking the jealous man I’m capable of becoming might turn you on, but keep pissing me off and you’ll bring out a man who will scare you senseless.” He lifted up, taking my hand with him to stand. He readjusted my dress and my hair, ensuring I looked as close to the way I appeared when I arrived as possible.

I tried to adjust to the swift motion and focus on something in particular. Searching the floor, I saw my La Dentelle panties, shredded.
 

Elias lifted my chin, enforcing eye contact. “Tomorrow, you will come to watch me race. I’ll text the address to you one hour before. Listen to my warnings and stop the mind games. They won’t work on me,
querida
. They never have.”

“La Dentelle closes early on Sunday,” I croaked, “but I have to check on my father, he gets really lonely…” I paused to take in the look on his face. No matter how much I tried to decorate the word no, it was still a word he had issues with. “I can work something out.”

“The race starts at five. No excuses. Does Jaco need to take you there tomorrow?”

“I think I can get my coworker to take me.”

He cut his eyes at me.

“It won’t be Skylar.”

“If she can’t, you have my number.” With his hands at either side of my hips, he pulled me in close. “You look incredible tonight, Hanley.” He gave me a sweet brief kiss before he tugged me back to the grand hall. The moment we hit the main area, he walked off, acting as though we didn’t have an intense interaction only minutes earlier.

Skylar approached me and fingered a stray lock of hair to fall behind my ear. “Did he screw you that fast? Wow. I guess the girls I knew were wrong about him being the energizer bunny.”

I linked arms with her, dragging her with me. “We are leaving now, and those guys we came with can find their own way home.”

SEVEN

THREE HOURS INTO MY shift at La Dentelle, I asked Claudia if I could take a coffee break. After she granted me permission to leave, I wrestled the garment bag from the backroom, intending to return it to the boutique I had purchased it from. Opening the bag, I checked it over, making sure it was in good condition and used the tagging gun on the desk to replace the tag.
 

At the boutique, the return sale went off without hitch. Although the sales associate was none too pleased with me—her negative attitude was palpable—I kept up my pleasant demeanor, because I couldn’t blame her. Many customers had tried to return items from La Dentelle that were previously worn. The store’s policy was to take everything, and if we suspected they were worn, they were thrown out.

I thought I had gotten away with my wear and return trick. But, just after Claudia locked up the double doors, closing La Dentelle, the same associate who helped me before raced up to Claudia and me. On her arm, she carried the all too familiar branded garment bag, but it appeared a little thicker in width than it was when I returned it.

“I’m sorry,” the associate said through pants. “I almost forgot to bring this to you. So glad I caught you.” She placed her hand on her chest and smiled at me. “I’m Anne, and anytime you want to shop at Carista, I’ll be more than happy to be your personal stylist.” With a friendly grin, she presented the garment bag to me.

Confused, I skeptically took the bag from her arms. Curious to what was inside, I unzipped it. Not only was I faced with the dress I’d returned earlier in the day, but three other dresses—that aligned with my personal style—were also provided.

With a parting nod, Anne handed me an envelope and went on her way. I fingered the note, sliding it from the Carista brand stamped envelope to read the handwritten message:

This dress was made for you.
 

It should be in your closet and remain there.
 

So you won’t have to return a dress in the near future again,

 
I’ve included a few more.
 

Elias

Claudia was standing over my shoulder, but I quickly closed the card before she could read it.

She threw her hands on her hips and proclaimed, “Okay, I really have to meet this mystery guy of yours.”