Loveless (11 page)

“Yes, smart girl, I know, but we have more than enough. Right Paige?”

Smiling, I nod. “Yes. I’m so impressed. You really,
really
know your colors.”

Joyce gives me that wide, proud smile.

Too cute.

Gilliane lifts her phone off the desk and hands it to Joyce.”Here you go. Go play and let us discuss your color choices.”

Joyce is off like a rocket, practically flying onto the couch to play.

“So. Two things. First, we need to find a young boy and ask his opinion—”

Elijah interrupts Gilliane. “Paige’s nephew can help.”

Gilliane turns to me. “How old is he?”

“Um . . . Cole is six. Almost seven.”

“Really? Elijah’s question catches me off guard. “He looks older. I thought he was at least eight.”

Gilliane’s eyes bounce between us, curious.

At a lost for words, I can only nod at him. He’s acting so different compared to yesterday.

And the way he’s looking at me . . .

Gilliane’s voice snaps me out of it. “Do you think we can get his opinion today?”

The question is a relief. What I need to break my stare with Elijah. “I’ll call him as soon as he’s home from school.”

“Great. And once we have a list compiled, we’ll have marketing hold a poll on our social media to see which colors people want the most. That’s enough for now. Thank you, Paige.”

I stand to leave.

Elijah tilts his head back to stare at me. “Tell Cole I said what’s up when you speak to him.”

Okay. He’s definitely acting way too different. Almost strange. Is he bipolar? “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You don’t want to encourage him. Trust me. He’s like fungus. You’ll end up stuck with him.”

He smiles, but this smile is different than his usual ones. Warm. Almost caring. Something else I can’t name. “Bring it on. I like fungus.” He winks at me.

My knees tremble with renewed weakness.

“Ew! Uncle Eli likes fungus!”

I can’t even laugh. That spark in his eyes . . . Confused, I can only turn and exit the office. My pulse is a mad roar in my ears—my legs are nothing but useless mass at this point.

Now, more than ever, I regret ruining my chance to sleep with him. Something about him awakens raw lust in my system. I can’t picture losing my virginity for love. Not at this point in my life.

I also can’t imagine my first time lacking that earth-shattering hunger Elijah induces.

Which means I have to find someone that turns me on just as much, and I have to find that man soon.

Before
I revert back to old behavior and shamelessly beg Elijah to do me.

thirteen

Paige

What did that stare mean?
Eight hours later and I still can’t get the curiosity out of my head.

Because . . . while I can’t figure out what that odd warmth I saw in his eyes means, the hunger I recognized.

Surely, it means that our arrangement can continue? That I won’t have to go out there and find someone else to confess to.

Gilliane leaves earlier than usual. Joyce barrels into my office to hug me goodbye before heading to Elijah’s.

It takes her a mother a good ten minutes to drag her out of there.

That little girl adores him.

An adoration that is very much reciprocated, if the smile on his face is any indication.

I’m unable to tear my eyes away from him.

As if sensing my stare, his eyes jump to me. His smile disappears. Those dark brows draw together. Desire sparks in his eyes. Even from across the distance, I see them darkening.

An answering need coils low in my belly.
Trapped
. Unable to move. Break away. Deny the plea that keeps building inside me.
I want you inside me again.
His fingers. His tongue. Any part of him.

Nick comes out of nowhere, walking across and blocking Elijah from my line of sight.

A relief. I have to learn to control my reactions. No matter what happens—what that unguarded, hungry stare of his means—I can never let myself go wild with him again.

I’ll die before I ever allow myself to come across as desperate for him. Like I did before.

He’s probably left so many broken hearts in his wake. Stupid girls. Thinking they could change a man like him. Feeding his already overgrown confidence. I won’t be one of those girls. Ever.

Nick steps inside Elijah’s office. They speak for a few minutes, then Nick heads my way. He stops right at the door.

Concern floods me. His orange-red hair is longer than usual and his bright blue eyes are rimmed with bags.

Something’s up with him, but he smiles, trying to pretend everything is alright. “Hey. Just wanted to ask you if you’re free the weekend of the twenty-third.” His expression tenses, as if his smile never existed. “It’s my engagement party and I would really like it if you could attend.”

Taken aback by the bleakness in his stare, I reach for my cell and pull up the calendar. “I’ll definitely be there. Just send me all the details.” I smile at him.

He tries to smile back. It comes out as more of a grimace instead. “Thanks.” He walks away, each step heavier than the last.

That’s not a man excited about his impending nuptials. As a matter of fact, he seems more like a man heading to his death.

Another bachelor not ready to let his freedom go?

Somehow, I doubt that. Nick never came across as the player-type. Then again, what the hell do I know? I was fooled by a man that didn’t seem like a player before.

I’m so focused on my thoughts that I don’t see the form getting closer until it’s right outside my door.

Elijah, approaching fast, the intent in his eyes unmistakable.

My ability to breathe shuts down. No countdown. No courtesy. No warning. Just an utter failure.

“Get up, Paige.”

Right. Because I can
so
follow instructions while my brain slowly dies from lack of oxygen.

He must catch onto this, because he keeps coming at me, not stopping until he’s standing before me. Grabbing me around the waist, he lifts me onto my feet and backs me up against the desk.

“Eli—”

Expression harsh, he kisses me.

“
Uh
!” The needy sound leaves me before I can even think of stopping it. Traitorous sound.

Elijah echoes it, slipping his tongue inside me.

My inner walls tighten.

His taste. The pleasure. After almost three days without it, I nearly lose my mind. I’d pushed it down, ignored it as much as I could, even tried to convince myself that I didn’t need it that bad.

But I do. Oh God, I do.

He kneads my ass, groaning deep in his throat, and lifts me onto the desk.

Right onto my notepad.

Not that I care.

Spreading my legs, I make room for him, bringing him closer.

Too late I remember.
Can’t come across as needy.
No matter how much I actually am.

With his tongue still playing with mine, it takes all my willpower to cease my moans. To stop clawing at his shoulders and simply hang on to them.

When he kisses me harder, each swipe of his tongue followed by a rough growl, I force my body to remain tamed, swallowing every sound that tries to leave my throat.

Breaths heaving, he ends our kiss, eyes questioning. “Baby?”

Unable to meet his eyes, I stare at his navy-blue tie, at his matching dress shirt.

His touch gentle, he cups my jaw, his thumb pressing into my bottom lip. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I answer quickly. Too quickly.

“Look at me.”

I take a second to make sure my expression is controlled before doing as he says. “Yes?”

“What’s. Wrong?” His eyes continue to search mine.

What did I read once about lying? Oh, yes. Inject enough honesty into the lie to make it believable. “You just caught me by surprise, that’s all. I . . . thought that this . . .” Blushing, I motion between us. “Was over.”

My heart speeds up once more at the way his expression softens. “I’m sorry.”

Going for nonchalant, I shrug. “For what? It’s nothing.”

“Paige, I’ve been an ass the last two days and I’m sorry.”

Again, I shrug. No need to ask why he was an ass. The answer is obvious and comes with a lifetime’s worth of humiliation.

He straightens, but he doesn’t step away. The sight of my thighs spread on either side of him fixates me.

His hips roll into me, letting me feel his erection. “I still want you.”

Swallowing back another moan, I keep my facial expression neutral.
Can’t show how much I want him.

“Do you still want me?” he asks, leaning into my space, close enough our noses touch.

Small tremors rack my thighs. I bite down on the inside of my cheek and only give him another nod.

He doesn’t seem to believe me. “Say it, then. Out loud.”

“Y-yes. I still want to continue our arrangement.”

Something flashes in his eyes at the mention of our agreement. Clasping my thighs, he drags me to the edge of my desk. “Then why are you so nervous?”

Because I want you to make me come so badly.
And I can’t tell him that. He humiliated me the last two days. With good reason, sure. His warning that he doesn’t want me developing feelings for him was loud and clear.

Never mind that those actual words never left his lips.

“Paige.”

I need time to think. Time to deal with the crushing regret I feel at the fact that I can’t be as free with him as I’d been before. No getting lost in the moment, the pleasure.

“We shouldn’t do this here!” I blurt out.

A pause from him. Another questioning look. “Why not?”

Some more honesty wrapped into my lie. “Moira came to me last week.”

“The cleaning lady?”

“Yup. She returned my stack of papers . . .” There has to be a way to control this constant blushing response I have going on.

“Your stack of papers?”

“And the buttons of my shirt.”

Realization dawns in his eyes. “Oh. Shit.”

“Mm-hm.”

“How did she know they were yours?”

“The stack of papers had my name on them.”

He steps back and helps me off the desk. “Did she mention anything?”

“No. Didn’t ask questions, either. Just gave it all back to me. But I still think we need to be more careful.” We definitely have to. Our little agreement becoming the latest office gossip will ruin my professional reputation.

“You’re right.” Stepping up to me, he . . . lays a kiss on my forehead? “Come on. Get your stuff. I’m driving you home.”

“Okay.” This man confuses me more than anyone else I’ve ever encountered. I watch him head into his office for his suit coat and briefcase.

I’m still watching him as he stops at my door and gives me that playful grin.

“You coming, babe?”

. . .

Elijah stops me before I open the passenger side door. Turning me, he pushes me gently against the car. No. No. I still haven’t regained any control. My thoughts are a jumbled mess.

He slants his mouth over mine.

My briefcase falls onto the concrete floor of the parking lot.

Wrapping a hand around my ponytail, he tugs my head to the side. His tongue flicks sensually into my mouth, teasing me.

Even as he uses his entire body to pin me. Dominate me.

I want to beg him to pull my hair harder. To thrust his erection into me.

Yet, I can’t. Years of pent-up need rage within me, a war against my control, and if I relax my guard for even a moment, there’ll be no pulling back.

I break away. “There’s camera’s here.”

With a vicious curse, Elijah drops his forehead onto my shoulder. His body vibrates with tension.

If I lose control with him, it feels like I
’
ve somehow failed. If I fight to keep that control, more of the same.

Maybe I just don’t know enough about any of this to do it right?

“Paige.”

“Can we please go?”

Sighing, he unlocks the door and opens it to let me in. He bends and grabs my briefcase, handing it to me.

Unable to meet his eyes, I take it and put all my attention into clipping in the seatbelt. Real slow. Taking my time. As if the task is airplane engineering at its finest.

Naturally, Elijah sits in the driver’s side and just stares at me, probably wondering where all my motor skills went off to. He does it more than once, stopping at each light on the way to my house and turning toward me.

He doesn’t speak at first and I’m so grateful for that.

“Alright. We’re going to talk about this.”

Or not.

“I was an idiot, Paige—”

“No.” Eyes glued to the world outside the window, I wonder how much of my dignity will be swallowed up by this conversation. “I’m the one that behaved like an idiot the night we went out.”

“
What
? You’re the most adorable drunk I know, and it’s not like you were throwing up all over the place.”

No. I was just throwing myself all over you.
Some more dignity is destroyed. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“No, Paige. I actually don’t know what you mean.” The words are pronounced slowly, the undercurrent beneath them making my hairs stand on end. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

Why is he mad?

He turns onto my street. Instead of double-parking to let me out, he backs into an open spot in front of my brownstone.

Like the coward I am, I unclip my seatbelt, gather up my things, and grab the handle of the door before answering. “I acted desperate for it. For you—”

“
And
?”

“Listen, I don’t have feelings for you. I know you’re worried about that because I was so out of control with you, but I’ve known from day one that this is only about the sex. And that hasn’t changed for me.”

“Fucking . . . hell . . .”

My face burns. “I’m really sorry about being all over you the way I was—”

“Now wait a minute—”

“I know I came across as needy. I’ll learn to control it in the future. But I can one-hundred percent guarantee that I’m not developing feelings for you, nor am I ever going to expect you to date me.”

Wide-eyed, mouth agape, he stares at me.

Like I’ve lost my mind.

Jesus. I
have
.

Somehow, I squeal out, “Thanks for the ride home,” and scramble out of the car, rushing to my front door.

The slamming of a car door makes me look over my shoulder.

Elijah is right behind me, gaining fast.

I almost trip.

He stops next to me, seething. Expression thunderous. “Open the door.”

My useless fingers almost drop my keys. Why does his anger resemble his arousal so much?

Why can’t I function in the face of both?

He reaches out and takes the keys from me. Selecting the blue key, he unlocks the door and holds it open for me.

I must have told him on Saturday which key was for what door—he already selected the green one and is holding it in his hand.