Page 27 of Gold Mine (The Diamond Trilogy 2)
Tears are streaming down her face, and it makes me hard. It makes me hard just like when I fucked her face and choked her little throat. “Elijah.”
“I lived on the street until I was old enough to enlist.” The memories have sharp teeth and claws. They threaten to rip out my throat so I can’t speak. My next words come out hoarse. “The things I did, Holly. You would be disgusted with me if you knew.”
“I wouldn’t.” She pushes against my chest, and it shouldn’t move me. There is not nearly enough muscle on her slender frame to dislodge me, but it works anyway. I roll over onto the bed, and then she’s on top of me, my cock still in her cunt. “There is nothing you could say—”
“Don’t,” I say, too sharp. “You have no fucking idea.”
“Maybe not,” she says, her hips moving, rocking. She’s riding me. “Maybe I don’t understand what you went through, but I do know my feelings. I know you can’t change them.”
Her pussy clenches around my cock, and I grunt in pleasure. “I got numb on the street. So fucking numb that I thought I wouldn’t be able to feel anything. Only pain could make me feel anything at all. Until you. You make me feel other things, terrifying things, but, Holly… God, Holly, what terrifies me is that sometimes even you aren’t enough.”
Determination darkens her eyes. I didn’t mean to lay down a challenge, but that’s the way she’s taking it. She puts her palms on my chest and lifts up, bearing down fast enough to make me catch my breath. Then she’s fucking me, riding me, a beautiful blur, and I throw my head back, unable to do anything but take it. My hands clench her thighs, and I know there will be ten finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow. Is that the line? Where is the line? Then she comes, her pussy drenched with arousal, her secret muscles clenching me, and I don’t care about the fucking line. I thrust up into her, hard, coming in hard, wrenching, painful spurts.
She collapses onto my chest. I gently push her onto her side, away from me. There are only inches between us, but they might as well be miles.
I can’t believe I told her about my time on the streets. I may not have embellished with the details, but she’s a smart woman. She can figure some of it out.
Fuck. I’ve never told anyone that, and for damn good reason.
It’s me at my lowest point. Desperation. Hunger.
And endless, endless pain.
“Elijah,” she whispers. “Let me come with you.”
I stare at the ceiling when I answer, my heart a cold stone in my chest. “That’s the difference between London and me. She needs you. I don’t, sweetheart. You can’t help me. It will be easier on my own.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Elijah
The meeting is set for noon. We leave with exactly enough time to get there. Normally we’d arrive early and scout the place, but the lieutenant colonel will expect that. There will likely be traps and a few rifles pointed at our heads. Anything we do to protect ourselves can be seen as an act of war against the American government. So we’re going with only a couple of knives and a handgun. Barely anything by our usual standards. It’s a risky move, but not going is not an option. The lieutenant colonel won’t shoot me on sight. If he only wanted me dead, there were easier ways to accomplish that. At least I’ll hear what he has to say before I tell him to go to hell.
“So,” Josh says. “You and this writer chick. You’re an item?”
Over the past year I’ve gotten to know my brothers fairly well. Liam is the serious one, the upstanding one. He would not interfere or even ask about my personal life—except if he thought it was a safety issue. On the other hand, Josh is more casual. He’s comfortable throwing out a question like that without any preliminaries.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he continues, kicking his boots up on the dash of the black SUV. “I’m not judging you. It’s more of a congratulations. She’s hot in a sexy librarian kind of way.”
I don’t say anything. I also don’t punch him in the face and crash the SUV into the Mediterranean Sea. So I’d say that I’m winning right now.
“That being said, I still don’t understand why you don’t get a little sister action going. The other one’s hot in a Cosmo cover model kind of way, and if you could get both of them into bed—”
“Is there a point to this?”
He grins. “I knew I could get you to talk.”
Out of the three brothers, I’m the most taciturn. “You want to talk about relationships? Do you also want to braid each other’s hair?”
