Loveless (13 page)

Eli reaches beneath me, his fingers finding my sopping clit at the same time he slides the tip of tongue back into my ass.

A scream is ripped out of me as the most explosive pleasure I’ve ever felt tears through me. He licks my tight opening in circles and rubs my clit as I fall apart beneath him.

He leans away from me, but I can’t turn. Shit, I can’t even lift my upper body off this couch.

And I’m still so fucking horny. My pussy vibrates with the need to be filled.

Eli lifts me like I weigh nothing and deposits me back on the couch, this time on my back facing him. The arrogant, satisfied smirk on his face is so damn sexy, it makes me want to kick him.

“Fuck me, Eli.”

He shakes his head once.
No.

“Damn you,” I groan, hating him passionately. “I need you inside me.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, the corner of his lips curling into a cocky smirk.

Swear to God, I’m going to hit him.

He leans down to give my clit one more lick and slips a finger inside me.

My body goes electric, my walls sucking him in deeper.
No, Paige. Fight this. Fight—this.

Thrusting his finger into me softly, he circles my clit with his tongue.

My toes curl in my heels. “Eli!”

“Yeah. Like that baby?” His lips graze me as he speaks. “Your pussy’s so tight. So hungry for me.”

Utterly out of breath, all I can do is nod at him, hips moving in time with his thrusts.

He swirls his finger inside me, licking faster.

Nails digging into the couch beneath me, I sob, “
Oh my God.
”

“I need to feel this soft pussy on me.” When he removes both his finger and his mouth from me, I almost scream out in frustration. Then he rears up over me, his cock straining, and excitement steals my breath.

His dick is red, swollen—
in pain.
I can tell. Did his control finally snap?

I spread my legs wider in preparation for him.

Silent, he reaches for me, undoing the buttons on my shirt and lifting my breasts out of my bra.

The whole time, I stare at his throbbing erection, my hands itching to grab it. Feel it. It’s just as wide and thick as I imagined, perfectly veined.
Mouthwatering.
Hotter than any I’ve ever seen online. His tip glistens, calling for me.

I reach for it.

He catches both my wrists in one of his large hands, pinning them over my head.

“What the hell Elijah?”

His answering chuckle is deep. Sexy. For a split second, I almost forget that I’m supposed to be mad at him.

Wrapping his other hand around his erection, he lowers himself between my legs.

I curl them around his hips, urging him closer.

His tip kisses my clit.

Another orgasm tears through me instantly—

“Don’t come again, Paige. Not yet baby.”

“I can’t hold it!” The pleasure overwhelms me. I can do nothing but ride out each mindless wave, my inner walls spasming, empty without him.

He loses control, rocking his hips back and forth, forcing more and more pleasure on me. “Wet. Soaking. Oh, fuck. Yes. That’s it baby. Get your honey all over my cock.”

His gravely voice. Oh God. 

He covers my body with his, rotating his hips, his mouth finding one of my aching nipples.

“No. Eli. Baby, I can’t!”

Snarling around my nipple, he looks up at me long enough to demand, “Call me that again,” then sets back in, tonguing my nipple.

“Baby, I can’t. It’s too much.”

“Take it,” he groans feverishly, switching to my other nipple and tugging on it lightly with his teeth. “Take all of it, Paige. Everything I have to give.”

The intensity frightens me; even so, I wrap my arms around him and tighten my legs, refusing to let him go.

He releases my nipple. His mouth meets mine, tongues intertwining, the breathless sounds he makes mixing with my soft mewls.

“You’re mine, Paige. All mine.” His tongue slides back into my mouth before I can respond.

Hearing him say that . . . why would he say it?

My body doesn’t care. Tears leak out of the corners of my eyes, the pleasure morphing into a sweet, unbearable sort of agony.

Elijah doesn’t stop kissing me, his body losing all coordination, come spurting hot between us. I feel it land on my lower belly and mound.

He collapses on me, chest heaving, almost crushing me.

I’m too dazed to move.

What the hell just happened?

What the hell was
that
?

He rocked my fucking world. He
owned
me.

I didn’t even have a chance to touch his cock.

Elijah kisses my cheek, heart pounding against my chest. “Fuck girl.”

Staring up at the ceiling, I try to breathe, surrounded by him—his scent, his heat, his sheer size. He doesn’t seem in a hurry to let me go.

I’m not in a hurry to get him off me.

My mind replays his words.
Want more. You’re mine.

I know that due to my deprivation when it comes to sex and physical affection, I’m in a vulnerable place. A dangerous one. It would be so damn easy to become addicted to him. So damn easy.

After that, it’ll be only a matter of time before I start believing the lies. Before my dependence on his touch morphs into an attachment on my end.

Eli has probably run through thousands of women in his lifetime. What on Earth could a man like him ever truly know about dating a woman?

And I’m not even ready to date anyone yet!

He must sense me tensing up on him, because he lifts himself up enough to look down at me. “Paige?”

“You’re too heavy,” I lie, refusing to look at him. “Please get off.”

“Sorry.” He does as I asked, eyeing me the whole time.

When I refuse to meet his stare, even after he allows me to sit up, he grabs my chin and turns my head toward him. “What’s going on with you?”

Lie. That’s my best and sanest option. But thinking that he might be lying to me makes me ache. No, I never expected more from Elijah—still don’t—but I’d at least begun to think of us as friends. Friends aren’t supposed to lie to each other.

So I will set that precedent by forcing myself to be honest with him. As scary as that thought is. “You do know that I’m a sure thing right? Like, I willingly agreed to fuck you.”

Tucking himself back into his pants, he stares at me as one would a dangerous snake about to strike. “Yes.”

“Then you don’t need to lie to me.”

“Lie to . . . you.”

I inhale sharply as he regards me, something about his stare scaring me. “Yes. Lie to me. We both know you’re not the type of man to want a relationship.”

“Oh, no?” His soft tone sets me even more on edge. “Then what type of man am I, Paige? Enlighten me.”

Doing up the buttons of my shirt, I take a moment to compose myself. “We both know what type of man you are, Elijah. All you do is sex.”

“A manwhore then.”

“Yes,” I snap, not understanding where any of this is coming from. “That’s who you are. It’s who you’ve been forever. And I still agreed to sleep with you, so why the hell bring on this act now?”

His sudden stillness is frightening. It truly is. As is his forced calm. “So, in your opinion, I’m a manwhore that’s only good for one thing. Is that it?”

“Yes. Damn it, I mean—” Fuck it, I can’t even deny it. But the way he just stated that question makes it sound so insulting.

And yeah, to someone else it would be, but I would’ve thought he’d be
proud
of his reputation.

Nodding, Elijah looks away and runs his hands through his hair.

He seems almost hurt by what I said. I don’t want to hurt him. I’m only being honest. “Elijah, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt you, but you need to stop this.”

“Stop what?” he asks without looking at me, an odd edge to his tone.

“Stop pretending. We agreed. I’m not ready to date, and even if I was, I don’t deserve to be anyone’s plaything.”

“I would never play games with you!” he snaps, making me jump in my seat. He stares at me for a few seconds then turns away, scoffing.

I watch him get to his feet, my mind a whirlwind of confusion. “That’s all you ever do. Play games.”

Staring at the wall, his back facing me, he’s silent for a good minute. Then, with a nod, he turns his head to stare at me over his shoulder. “I’m going to leave now, Paige, because this shit is sure as hell not easy for me. Do I deserve this right now? Hell yeah, I do. I recognize that. But you’re full of shit if you think I’m lying about it. Oh, and I’m not taking you until you’re ready to admit that fact. Ready to face the possibility that this isn’t just sex between us.”

“I’m not ready to date,” I answer feebly, at a loss.

He spins around to face me. “Then that’s your problem. Not mine. So don’t try to put it on me.”

I don’t believe you
. I don’t say it aloud. Don’t want to anger him further.

But he must read it on my face anyway, because he scoffs again. “Yeah, I’m leaving. But only to give you space to think. Just know this, Paige. I’m not letting you go that easily. So you better come to terms with that reality because I won’t be able to wait much longer without being inside you.”

And with that he’s gone, pausing just long enough to pick his blazer off the floor, then exiting the apartment. Without looking back at me.

fifteen

Elijah

Shit has officially hit the fan.

I’m so fucked.

I’m so fucked I have no idea how I’m going to unfuck myself at this point.

I like Paige.

I. Freaking. Like. Her.

In a way I haven’t felt about a woman in a long, long time.

God damn Sophie for making me realize that!

The entire way up in the elevator, those words follow me, taunting me.
Manwhore. Good for one thing only.

It never mattered before her, fuck it all.

My frustration is in no way made better by the fact that, as I told Paige, I know I deserve my reputation. I worked hard to earn it. And I was more than cool with it until a few days ago.

Storming out of the elevator, I shoot straight for Sophie’s apartment door. Luckily for her, it’s slightly ajar.

I was ready to tear it down if necessary.

“Woman!” I call out, slamming the door open.

“Oh dear Lord, rescue!” Sophie cries, struggling with a large box.

I ignore her, refusing to help unless she’s ready to help me.

Considering how fucking excited she was at the thought of my falling for Paige, she better be ready to help me.

Her eyes narrow when I cross my arms and just stand here. “Uh . . . help?”

“No. We have a bigger problem on our hands.”

She eyes the gigantic box in her hands then eyes me, as if I’m the stupidest man on the planet. Not the first time I’ve gotten that look from her. “And what, pray tell, is bigger than this?”

“Paige doesn’t want more with me even though I told her I want more with her.”

“
Ahhhh
!” There goes the box, out Sophie’s arms and straight to the floor. The impact is loud against the hardwood flooring. She gasps, eyes wide. “Shit! That’s my new flat screen! It better not have broken because of you, dip shit.” Rushing to pick up the box, she heaves while trying to get it back into her arms, her small face turning red.

How the hell did she manage to get it home in the first place?

Sighing, I give in and walk to her. Once I have the box in my arms, I stare down at Sophie with an impatient look. “Where do I put it?”

“Might as well put it on the coffee table now. I have to open it and make sure it didn’t break,” she grumbles.

I do as she said, watching as she goes to the kitchen and comes back with a box cutter.

“So . . .”

I hate that word every single time it leaves her mouth.

“I thought you didn’t like her.” Not looking at me, she makes a big production of slicing the box open, reminding me of Paige earlier and how she purposely took her time clipping in her seat belt.

Because she didn’t want to look at me.

Because I acted like the biggest jackass in history for almost three days straight.

My chest tightens as I remember the nervous, vulnerable look on her face.

“Yeah, well, I do,” I mumble, helping Sophie part the lid of the box.

She bites into her lip, eyes scrunched closed, and the weirdest sound I’ve ever heard echoes in her throat. Making an effort to visibly control herself, she holds the lid open while I reach inside for the flat screen. “And you told her this?”

Admitting this is going to be so much fun.

But I need the help, right?

The memory of how Paige looked when she shot me down flashes through my mind—confused, lips swollen, cheeks pink from all the orgasms I gave her.

Her taste’s still in my mouth, all over my tongue. The feel of her soft, slick lips and clit rubbing into the underside of my cock is like a phantom ache, one that won’t go away. My dick hardens all over again, remembering how her greedy walls had sucked on my finger. How she went wild while I licked her ass.

Shit. Yeah. I need help. All the help I can get. That woman has to be mine. I have no clue what I’m going to do with her once I have her, aside from fucking her over and over again, but I want her too much for it to just end at the sex.

“Yes, I told her. She shot me down.”

Sophie pauses. “
What
? But she’s so into you! I saw that Saturday when we hung out!”

God help me, I saw it too. And she fits me. We had way too much fun together. “This is all your fucking fault.”

“How is her turning you down
my
fault?”

“That part isn’t your fault. Me realizing that I like her is.” I hold the flat screen up, wrapping and all, while she moves the box off the coffee table.

“Elijah. You were going to realize that anyway. Better now than later, when it’s too late.”

“It might already be too late.”

“What the hell did you do?” Sophie’s round eyes promise a world of retribution. No doubt, she already suspects just how badly I fucked up. Annoying girl knows me like that. “Did you flirt with another girl in front of her?”

“No!” The fact that that’s her first assumption proves just how screwed I am. This is how everyone sees me. Including my best friend.

“Then what happened Eli?”

“She thinks I’m too much of a manwhore to ever take a relationship seriously.”

Sophie pauses again in the middle of slipping the cardboard covers off the corner of the TV. “Well, that
is
your fault. I can’t deny it.”

I scowl at her. “And I might have ignored her for a few days because I didn’t want to admit that I liked her after you confronted me.”

Her affronted gasp is the only warning I get before her small hand connects with the back of my head. “You idiot!”

“I know!” Rubbing the spot she hit, I glare at her.

Sighing, she turns back to the TV. “How bad was it?”

“Pretty bad, but I didn’t last long before snapping.”

“Define snapping.”

“I came at her like some sort of starving animal.”

One light brown eyebrow raises. “Always a good thing, trust me. How did she react?”

“She tried to hold back at first, but it was obvious she still wants me.”

“Then we’re good. It should be fixable.”

Okay. Enough of an incentive for me to control my frustration with her. “How do I fix it Sophie?”

Sophie remains quiet, driving me mad, calmly removing the last of the TV’s wrapping. By the time she’s done, I’m ready to shake the answer out of her. “I really like Paige. You know that, right?”

Where is she going with this? “I know. I like her, too.”

Her lips twitches. “Still so freaking awesome to hear you admit that out loud.”

For some reason, it seems like she’s insinuating I’m a pussy when it comes to those things.

Knowing Sophie, she probably is.

“Get to the point woman.”

“I’m going to help you. But if you fuck this up, and therefore my help ends up being in vain and I lose Paige’s friendship, and then I have to see you suffer for being such a dipshit . . .”

She doesn’t have to finish. I catch onto the subtext loud and clear. There will be utter hell to pay. Since I know my best friend very well, I understand that this isn’t an exaggeration. She will make me regret it for the rest of our lives. “I’m not going to mess this up, Sophie.” I can’t. Fuck me, but it’s too important for me to do so.

An assessing side-eye stare from Sophie. “Still, I had to warn you.”

“And this help of yours, what exactly would it entail?”

“For starters, you’re going to give Paige a few days and some space.”

My head jerks back, as if she just hit me. “
What
?” That’s the very last thing I want to do!

“Oh my God, that is adorable. Can’t even bare the thought of leaving her alone for a few days!” She sniffs, cupping her forehead melodramatically.

I swat her forehead.

The next few seconds are spent trying to dodge every hit she throws at me.

“Don’t hit me, you asshole!” A slap to my forehead.

“You hit me first!” Another slap to the back of her head.

“I’m a girl. You don’t get to hit back!”

I barely dodge the elbow she aims at my gut.

“Sophie, focus!” Grabbing her arms, I hold her still. “I need your help with Paige!”

Huffing, she gives me a nasty look but calms down nonetheless.

“You need to give her a few days to think over what you said. But you also need to give her time to miss you, Elijah.”

The idea borders on repugnant. Leave Paige alone? “That didn’t work out so well the first time.”

“I’m not saying you ignore her, ass. You’re going to text her. Flirt with her at work, or wherever. Make her feel
wanted
.”

“She
is
wanted. Trust me,” I mumble. Sophie’s wistful smile makes me pause. “What?”

“Nothing. Just that, one day, I’m going to find someone that wants me that bad.”

“Damn right you are.”

Her smile turns blinding. “I’m going to ask Paige to come out with me this weekend. We can hit that club downtown.” I’m already tensing to reject the idea when she continues, “And you’re going to magically end up interrupting our girl’s night out while we’re there. Show up with that A-game buddy. Hang with your girl and seduce the hell out of her. Make her feel like she’s the only girl in the entire place.”

“That won’t be hard.”

She looks like she barely holds back a squeal at my murmured admission. “I’m going to reach out to her tomorrow. Set it all up for Friday night.”

“And how long do I wait until I text her?”

“Who said you had to wait?”

Sometimes, I love seeing that mischievous glint in my best friend’s eyes. “Oh, wait. One more thing.”

Sophie had returned to inspecting the flat screen, which seems to have survived the fall without any damage. “Only if you stick around long enough to help me get this in my room.”

I lift it up easily and follow her down the hall. “I need you to withhold this information from my mother as long as possible.”

“But she would be so excited!” Sophie calls back over her shoulder.

“Exactly. I just accepted the idea of dating the girl. She hasn’t accepted the idea of dating me. We don’t need any weddings planned anytime in the near future.”

“Fine. Fine. I won’t tell your mother . . . as long as you don’t mess this up. You ruin this with Paige, and I’m telling her every single little thing.”

God damn it. As if I’m not under enough pressure already. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Yup. It’s why you adore me.”

. . .

Hi. Do u have time 2 talk?
Considering how we left things between us earlier, I didn’t expect Paige to answer me.

Hi. Yeah. I was just bout 2 text u.

It’s been about two hours since I walked out of her apartment; not enough time for me to miss her. And, yet, I do. Seeing a text from her makes me want to smile like a goddamn fool.

Her next text comes through before I can reply.

I’m rly sry if I offended u earlier. I feel like crap bout it.

Scratch that. I
am
smiling like a fool.
It’s fine. Told u, I kno I deserve it.

Just texting with her has my heart tripping oddly. Man, I haven’t felt like this since—shit. Since Joan.

I wait for the panic to set in.

Nothing.

Damn. Just like that?

Another text from Paige.
Still feel like crap.

Because that’s who she is. Sweet. Caring.

I remember falling for Joan. It happened hard, fast, fueled mostly by the hormones in my seventeen-year-old body.

With Paige, it’s like that. No doubt. My dick’s been leading me in that direction since day one. But she didn’t let me get too close, leaving me with too much time to observe. Analyze. Months of taking her in left me very sure of one thing: Paige is nothing like Joan.

Or most of the women I’ve encountered in my life.

Hell, Sophie took an instant liking to her. If that isn’t a ringing endorsement, I don’t know what is. That little punk is usually judgmental of anyone she comes in contact with.

I type out another text.
I don’t want u 2 feel like crap baby. Just want u 2 think bout wat I said.

No response. Which means she’s thinking about it. Probably more than she wants to.

Leaning back on my bed, I stare up at the ceiling. My lack of fear still amazes me.

My dick probably has a lot to do with that.

The same dick that’s currently tenting the covers, jumping in time to each of my heartbeats. I don’t want to reach down and touch myself; I have no choice. The memory of Paige’s soft, waxed pussy is fucking with my head.