The Lonely (The Lonely #1)

The Lonely (The Lonely #1) Page 46

"What the hell are you doing here?" His voice is low and growled.

I look at the driver, "Thanks."

He looks scared, "That him then?"

I nod, "Yup."

"Good luck Miss."

Eli rips the door open and offers me his hand. I take it and swallow. The touch is a million times better than I thought it would be but I'm still scared.

He drags me to the small hotel. He climbs the stairs and produces a key. I'm not even slightly surprised when he opens the door to my room.

"Corrupt third world countries." I mutter. He closes the door and presses his back into it.

I want to jump on him but I have a slight twinge in my belly.

"What did I say when I left?"

I bite my lip.

"I said don’t go anywhere without your brothers and Stuart and not to leave Chicago or Boston. Did you misunderstand my words?"

I step forward on my tiptoes and press my sandy, salty lips against him. He doesn’t kiss back. I speak into his lips, "You are not the boss of me. If you can gallivant in South America, then so can I."

He has me in his arms instantly.

"You scared me." He whispers.

I nod, "Ditto."

He pulls me back, "We are leaving in an hour. I have flights booked."

I frown, "You're leaving the missionaries?"

He shakes his head, "Not exactly. We never made it to our last destination. There is a sickness. All tourists are being sent home unless they have medical experience. I do not. Pack your bags. We leave as soon as possible."

I want to pull his clothes off, but the idea of the sand and the dirt is a huge turn off.

I kiss his lips once more and pack my stuff.

"I went to your parents house. I confessed it was me."

He looks concerned, "They knew that already. Why?"

"I need absolution from God for my sin."

He rolls his eyes, "You don’t get to pick and chose how religious you are. You never go to church. Why need absolution over that? It wasn’t your fault."

I grab my stuff and walk to him, "I just needed to."

"Were they cruel to you?" His eyes are hard.

I almost flinch, "God no. They were perfectly polite. Hugged me once even."

Shock lifts his eyebrows up before he can catch himself.

"They told me about the center."

He swallows, "Did they?" His eyes cool off again.

I nod. I put a hand out, it's so creamy white against his dark face. "I needed to hold you and make sure you were okay."

He kisses my palm, almost making me gag. He smiles, "I have you. I'll always be okay."

"I need you to now I was wrong. You don't need to live here and be grateful because it was so cushy and easy for you growing up."

His mouth twitches.

"My life was easier than yours. There is no doubt. Those nuns loved me way more than those people loved you."

He licks his lips and shakes his head, "It doesn’t matter. I am grateful. I see what we have and I found you and I trust that you're going to be okay. Coming here made me see that."

"I love you, Eli."

He kisses my lips softly, "I am grateful for you."

I nod and open the door. He grabs my arm and pulls me into his embrace. I close my eyes and it's perfection. The kiss is needy and desperate but it's closed mouth. It's the words we don't say. Words like I needed you more than anything in the entire world and here you are. It's the sentences neither of us can say. Neither of us likes grand gestures or big words. But the kiss says it all, the desperate tremble of his fears against mine, speak volumes compared to the words we may or may not be able to say.

When it breaks he whispers, "Let's go home."

Epilogue

I don’t know where he is. It was his stupid idea to move into together. I look out over the snow and in the window and grimace at the first snowfall of the year. I look around and wonder where he is. I rode the elevator alone, carried the groceries to the kitchen by myself and put them away.

I sat on the couch for ten-minutes waiting for him to attack me savagely, but he never graced me with his presence. I sit down and tap my finger against the sofa and remind myself of Dr. Bradley. I stop and look around, sighing, annoyed. I get up and walk down the hallway to have a bath. I hear something that makes me stop. It's in the bedroom at the far end of the hall. The one I made him put a lock on.

My heart pounds, excitement and terror take up equal amounts of space. The hair on my head even tingles. I shudder and slip my boots off. I tiptoe to the end of the hallway to the large door. I swallow.

I close my eyes and turn the knob. It's locked. I drop to my knees as a new terror begins to creep in. What if he isn’t alone? Is that a possibility that I have not ever considered out of foolish naivety? I place my fingers around the cold knob and peer into the keyhole on the wooden door. He insisted on it being an old fashioned key, an intricate looking one that would look like it belonged on the boudoir of a man and his mistress. I roll my eyes thinking about the way he said it, all pretentious and ridiculous.

Now, however, I'm grateful he's a snobby bastard. I'm trying desperately to control my breathing as my mother's words about him loving me more than anything in the world are flashing through my mind. I blink in front of the key.

I jump and scream when I see his eye, also peeking through the hole.

The door is unlocked and opened. He has the wickedly cocky smile.

"Spying on me? Really? Are you so insecure?" I frown. He's in that mood. I want to argue, I know what that will entail.

He steps to the side, leaving me just enough room to enter. I walk past him with my head high in the air. He loosens his tie and rolls his sleeves up. I catch a glimpse of his tats and scars. I lick my lips and forget about the bath. He closes the door, grinning.

He walks to the corner and sits in his chair.

He's in luck. I had planned on us having savage sex in the living room. Mostly because he refuses to do it anywhere but a bed, but I've been working on my seduction. Today I came prepared.

I unzip my jacket and let it drop to the floor. It's the only sound in the room. I pull my ponytail out and shake my head back and forth. Walking closer to the bed I undo one button on my blouse. I turn and face him as I slowly get the others. His mouth opens when he sees what's underneath. He's shocked. I like that.

I bite my lip and shoulder out of the blouse. I'm wearing a strapless white bustier with a lot of push up. Maintaining eye contact with him, I undo my jeans. I turn around and pull them down, bending over completely. I have on ruffled white underwear that matches the bustier. His head tilts slightly as he watches, making a sliver of a smile grace my lips. I stand up and turn around.

He looks flabbergasted. I have a small mental dance party and turn around. I bend over the bed and wait for it.

When I hear him get up I brace for the hand on my ass. He's rushed from the unexpected aspects of this and not grabbed a paddle or hairbrush from the wall.

What I get surprises me. His warm lips press against my left ass cheek. His hands slide up and down my thigh. It's nice.

I'm about to beg, he likes it when I beg, when he pulls his face away and his hand makes contact with my right cheek.

I moan into the bedding.

"You like that don’t you? You thought I was going to go easy on you because you wore pretty underwear?" He slaps in the same spot. I writhe and mouth breathe into the blankets. "What you didn’t know, is I like you in your cotton underwear. I like you that way."

I do know that. I know how he feels about slutty underwear. I grin as his hand makes contact once more.

"If you want to dress that way. I can treat you that way."

I bury my face to hide the smile crossing my lips as I hear the buckle of his pants. He spreads my legs with his and slides my underwear to the side. His fingers slide up and down me, soaking in the moisture. He plunges a finger in, making a gasp rip from my parted lips. His body bends over mine as his finger plunges in and out. He grabs my shoulder and pulls me back a bit, arching my back more. He's pumping in and out and I'm clawing at the bed. I pull away before I orgasm, making him chuckle.

"Not the orgasm you want baby?"

I shake my head.

He rips the panties off me, making me a bit sad momentarily. They cost a small fortune and matched the bustier.

He's between my thighs and pulling my butt into him. He rubs himself up and down me, before slipping only the tip in. I try to push back, to get more, but he doesn’t let me. He slowly enters, not rough.

"You will come when I let you." He growls. He bends and kisses my back softly. He knows how much I hate soft slow sex. I clench my jaw.

He rams me once hard and fast. I cry out but then he slows again. He's driving me insane with the inconsistent thrusts. I'm ready to knock him out and ride him my way. He slides his hand up my back, massaging and rubbing. He is thrusting slowly and evenly. His hand slides up the back of my head. He grabs a fist full of hair, right in the sweet spot and pulls my head back. Then he starts to buck, the right way. He's slamming me and pulling my hair like a savage. I'm crying out and clenching him. I orgasm as he growls, "You like it that way, don’t you?"

He moans as my clenching and squeezing forces his orgasm. He collapses on my back and kisses it softly.

We roll up into the bed and lie there for a minute, trying to catch our breath.

He strokes my head and looks at me, "What time are you going to the rings?"

I smirk. There is no weird pillow talk and no pretending we're soft delicate people. No apologies, limits yes, but no shame.

I glance up at him, "I'm meeting Angelo at seven. We're going to try to get as many places involved as we can. The program is looking like it will go ahead. Self-defense classes for free for every girl on Saturday afternoons. Angelo is cool with teaching it as long as he gets to kick my ass the whole time."

He arches an eyebrow, "Yeah that's realistic. Stuart picking you up?"