Touch Me (5 page)

She
held onto his shirt, pulled him as close as she could, which was almost
impossible seeing as their bodies already touched. Freya took one of her hands
and lifted it to the nape of his neck, ran her fingers up the back of his hair,
and tightened her hold on the short strands. Elijah moved his hand that held
her hair down her back, gripped her ass, and did the same with his other hand.

Fireworks
continued to explode inside of her, lighting her up, making her wet, heated,
losing her mind.

He
held the sounds in his hand, and with a strength she sensed in him from the
very beginning he hauled her off the cushion and onto his lap. She straddled
him, one leg bent and pressed against the back of the couch, the other hanging
off of it. He leaned back, clenched and unclenched his hands on her ass, and
moaned.

“You’re
so damn hot, so fucking sweet on my lips.” He seemed to moan the words out.
“Touch me, Freya. Fucking hell, I need you to touch me.”

Every
part of her body tingled after he said those words. Her pussy clenched, became
wetter, and her nipples hardened. She pulled back, breaking their kiss, and
looked up into his face. He looked so fierce right now, his dark hair brushing
the top of his forehead, slightly disheveled from when she ran her hand through
it and tugged on the strands.

Never
had she been so bold in her life, or this sexual. Although she’d never had this
arousal burn inside of her, pounding, fierce, angry almost.

Moving
her hand down his chest while still holding her gaze with his, Freya trailed
her fingers over his belt.
 
At the first
touch of her fingers over the hard, thick length of his erection this slight
sound left her. He was so big, his dick pushing against the material of his
pants, as if demanding to be free. She’d assumed he was big
everywhere
because of his overall size,
but God, he felt monstrous between his legs, and she hadn’t even fully touched
him yet.

“
Elijah
,” she breathed out. Freya blinked
a few times as if it would clear her mind, and then added a bit of pressure to
his dick. She swore the damn thing jerked for her, and she couldn’t deny she
wanted to be bolder, to just unzip his pants and pull it out.

But
this felt like it was moving so fast, felt like she was losing control of
herself.

“Elijah,”
she said his name softly, wanting to continue, but also wanting to go slow. Still
on his lap with her hand between their bodies, Freya forced herself move off of
him.

“I’m
sorry,” he said and turned from her, still sitting on the couch but his body
now facing the television. He ran a hand over his hair, messing up the strands
even more. “That was going overboard, and I shouldn’t have touched you … fuck,
I shouldn’t have asked you to touch me like that.”

“Elijah.”
She waited for a second after she said his name for him to turn to face her.
When he was looking at her she smiled. “I liked what we did, and I really
didn’t want to stop.” She curled her nails into her palms as she thought about
what they’d just done, and felt her arousal grow again. “But I want to go slow.
This is so very confusing to me, seeing as you used to be married to my
stepmother, and we lived together for years.”

“I
know, Freya, and I understand, but I crossed a line right now with you.” He
stood, suddenly seeming angry.

No,
this wasn’t how she wanted this to go, how she hoped it would go. Standing as
well, she reached out to him, but he moved away and walked toward the door.

“I’m
sorry. I’m really fucking sorry.”

“Elijah,
no apology is necessary. I liked what we did.”

He
stopped and grabbed the handle to the front door. “I liked it, too, Freya, but
I should know better.” He cursed under his breath. “I’ll call you later,
sweetheart.” And then he was gone.

She
stood there, his endearment playing through her head, the same endearment he’d
called her all those years ago.
 

Chapter
Eight

It
had been several days since Elijah had gone to see Freya … since they’d shared
that kiss. It was all she could think about, all that consumed her. Even now,
as she sat here alone, a glass of wine in her hand, and the silence surrounding
her, she still felt his lips on hers. She tried calling him, tried talking to
him about everything, but every time she’d tried to get in touch he’d either
been busy or wouldn’t answer.

The
fear of losing his friendship because of the kiss frightened her. She wanted
him, wanted him more than she probably should, but that didn’t mean she would
lose their friendship if she couldn’t be with him in the sexual way she wanted.

Touching
her lips, she felt them tingle, and closed her eyes and imagined herself on his
lap again. God, his dick had been so hard, like a steel rod between them. She’d
wanted so badly to unzip his pants and pull out his cock. But thinking and
acting were two very different things. No way could she have been so bold, not
when she thought kissing was rushing fast.

It’s not fast. It’s just that
you’re not used to what’s going on.

This
was true, and it wasn’t like she didn’t know Elijah. She supposed it was just
the fact she had known him for years, and their relationship had been a little
strange given their living situation.

Her
cell vibrating beside her pulled her out of her thoughts, and had her heart
racing.

Maurice:
Just seeing how you’re doing, and what’s new. I miss talking to you.

She
smiled at that, and replied.

I’m okay. Just dealing with Elijah
avoiding me. He’s gone silent on me.

She’d
spoken to Maurice briefly after the kiss she’d shared with Elijah, telling him
her fears, and how she wanted more.

Maurice:
He’s either playing hard to get, or he wants you a hell of a lot and is just
afraid of how things went.

She
thought about that after she read his text. He’d seemed more upset than
frightened after their kiss and right before he hightailed it out of her house.
But she hadn’t been very forthcoming on why she’d wanted to stop either.
Telling him it was fast, that she was confused, was all true. She hadn’t hidden
that fact, but she also hadn’t really talked to him about the almost taboo
nature of what they did. She sent another text.

How are things with you? Work going
good? How about things with Sarah?

Maurice:
Work
is okay, but my mom keeps getting on me to go out more. I guess having Sarah at
my house all the time so we can watch Dr. Who re-runs isn’t what my mom thinks
is good date material.

Freya
laughed.

She doesn’t know you very well
then.

Maurice:
Or Sarah for that matter, since it’s been Sarah’s idea to watch Dr. Who.

Freya
laughed again.

You’re happy?

Maurice:
I am.

Freya
felt so glad that Maurice was happy, and that he’d found someone. He deserved
that and more.

Maurice:
What are you going to do?

She
knew what Maurice was saying even though he was going at it in a roundabout
way.

I think I’m going to just go to his
office, talk to him and hopefully not make a fool out of myself.

Maurice
:
You won’t make a fool out of yourself by being honest. Any guy would love to
have you at his side, Freya. If things were different between us… if we felt
differently for each other, I’d snatch you up and not let you out of my sight.

She
smiled at his text and started to reply.

You’re such a good friend.

The
cell vibrated almost instantly with his reply.

Maurice:
Ditto ;) Listen, if you want to talk I’m here. I love you and keep your chin
up. Go for the gold.

She
outright laughed at that text.

Talk to you later.

God,
Maurice was such a good friend, and she was glad after what they’d done
together they could still be this close.

After
setting her phone down, leaning back on the couch, and bringing her wine glass
back to her mouth, she took a long sip. Yes, she’d go speak with Elijah since
he was avoiding her, clearly. She’d tell him that she was confused about where
things were going, but not because she cared what people thought, or because
she didn’t want him. No, she was confused because she’d never felt this kind of
attraction before, never felt this kind of arousal.

He
was older than she was, they had a history, but despite all of that she was
going to push everything aside and go after what she wanted. And what she
wanted, who she wanted, was Elijah Westgate.

****

He
hadn’t been able to get her off of his mind, not when the feel of her lips on
his, the warmth and weight of her body on him were engrained in his head. But
he was pissed at himself more for how he’d just left, for how he’d totally
ignored how he felt, run from her and what they’d done, even if it was probably
the right thing to do. He should have stayed and spoken to her about it all,
told her how he felt, what he wanted. But Elijah had seen the confusion on her
face after it all, the confusion because he’d rushed all of this.

He’d
touched her, kissed her … fucking hell, he’d told her to touch his cock, and
she had. It had felt incredible, so damn incredible that he’d wanted nothing
more than to just strip her naked and fuck her right there. He wanted to claim
her, her body, and tell her, demand from Freya that she was only his.

These
feelings, thoughts, were so wild, so untamed, that they frightened him on a
deep, primal level. But despite the fear he felt, the unease that he was
falling for this woman head first, not even caring that he was going to crash
at the bottom and never recover, he knew that running wouldn’t keep him away.

He
turned and stared out his office window, and rested his elbows on the top of
his thighs. He’d picked up his phone a dozen times since he’d left her house,
wanting to call her, but hanging up before he’d dialed her number. And what
made him feel even more like a motherfucker was the fact she’d called and he’d
avoided her. But he thought he’d been doing the right thing, giving her space,
time to adjust to what they’d done.

It
had been fucking hard staying away, especially since he wanted her so damn
badly.

“Mr.
Westgate, a Miss Dresden is here to see you.”

And
then his heart just stopped in his chest at the sound of his receptionist
saying Freya was here. Turning in his chair he pressed down on the intercom.

“Send
her in right away.” He stood, buttoned his suit jacket, and stared at the
double doors of his office. She was here? She was really fucking here, and that
made him feel like an even bigger asshole because she probably wouldn’t have
shown up if he hadn’t avoided her.

A
few seconds later the doors opened and Freya walked in. She held her bag, but
looked around his office before she saw him standing there. After a moment her
gaze landed on his, and even from the distance he saw her throat work, could
practically feel her nerves. His receptionist shut the doors, sealing them in,
but having Freya right in front of him couldn’t even bring up what he should
say. But his mind kicked into gear when she took a step forward.

“I’m
sorry, Freya.”

She
stopped. “For what?” she asked genuinely.

He
ran a hand through his hair, not caring that he was mussing the strands.

“For
kissing me?” Freya asked softly.

“Never
for kissing you,” Elijah said right away. He exhaled and sat down, not knowing
where to bring, but figuring he might as well just let it all out. “Please,
have a seat and we’ll talk.”

Freya
moved to one of the chairs in front of his desk, and after a few moments he
finally spoke again. “I’m sorry if I rushed you, if
me
kissing you made you uncomfortable.”

“It
didn’t,” she said instantly. “I wish we could have talked about
it, that
you hadn’t run off. I wanted to explain that I
didn’t want you to stop, just that everything was confusing at that moment. I
felt this wave of emotion over what we did, and it scared me a little, Elijah.”

“I
shouldn’t have left like that, and I shouldn’t have avoided your calls.”

She
looked at her hands in her lap, and for a moment didn’t respond. When she
finally lifted her head, he saw the truth and vulnerability in her face. “I
want you, Elijah, want you more than I should because of the history we have.”

“That
was a long time ago.”

She
nodded after he spoke. “But you were married to Meghan, my once stepmother.”

“I
want you, Freya.” He leaned his forearms on the desk, stared at her, and hoped
she could see the truth in his expression. He saw her throat work as she
swallowed, saw her eyes widen a fraction, and he knew she could see all right.
He pushed away from the desk, stood, and walked toward her. She tilted her head
back to look up at him, her hands playing with the strap of her purse, her
nerves clearly written on her face. He dropped to his haunches, took her hands
in his, and gazed into her eyes.

“I
know this all seems so fast, and it is, believe me. I didn’t expect to fall for
a woman, even one I’ve known for years, just a week after she gets back into
town.”

She
licked her lips, her chest rising and falling a little harder and faster than
normal.

“But
I’m willing to go slow, take my time with you, with this, as long as you’re
willing, Freya.”

She
didn’t respond, didn’t even blink, but after several long, agonizing seconds,
she finally inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“I’ll
do whatever you want, Freya, as long as you think you can give this, us, a go,”
he said, not wanting to beg, to put her on the spot with this. He didn’t want
her to feel like he was pressuring her, rushing her.

“I
don’t know how things will go, but I know I’d like to spend more time with you
and see where this takes us.”

He
couldn’t help himself. Elijah leaned forward, cupped her face in his hands, and
for one second didn’t do or say anything, just gave her a chance to stop him,
if that was what she really wanted. She didn’t, and so he leaned in and kissed
her. At first he just pressed his lips to hers, but when she moaned softly and
leaned into his mouth more, he stroked his tongue along her bottom lip. She
opened for him, sucked his tongue in her mouth, and he was tempted to push all
of his shit off of the desk and lay her on it to feast on her body.

“I
want you, Elijah, but can we take this slow?”

He
smiled against her mouth, needing the slowness as well. “Of course we can. This
isn’t something I want to rush, Freya.”

“Good,
because I don’t want to either.”

He
just hoped he didn’t fuck this up, because he knew Freya was something really
damn special.