Page 19 of Elijah’s Whim

“Pardon?”

“Put. The food. Down.” And fuck if she didn’t do as I instructed. Possibly for the first time behind closed doors, she did as she was told without so much as a single argumentative word.

No, that was bullshit. It was the first time, period.

“Good girl.”

“Don’t speak to me that way,” she demanded.

I tilted my head to the side, as if regarding her from a slightly different angle would clue me in to what she was objecting to exactly.

“You’re so infuriating,” she growled.

“How so?” I asked calmly, running my fingers back through my hair to push it away from my face.

“You speak to me like I’m a child, then tilt your head like that”—she demonstrated with an exaggerated ticktock of her own while she continued to chew me out—“and look so sexy it steals my breath and rational thought in the same split second. God! I want to knee you in the balls and beg for forgiveness at the same time.”

She dropped her chin to cradle her face in her palms and whimpered. “I’ve never been so confused in my entire life, Mr. Banks. I’m starting to despise you because of it.”

Maybe it was her admission that made me bold. Maybe it was the ache I felt so painfully in my balls, caused by that admission, that was giving me the courage. I had no damn clue. But something gave me the insane bravery to take a step closer to her—and then another. Until finally I skated my fingertips along the V-neck of her Abstract Catering T-shirt.

“I have never wanted to be a T-shirt so badly in my life,” I rumbled.

She grinned, likely remembering the night before when I made the exact comment, only about the bubbles in her bath.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for the jealous type. But that’s two comments in twenty-four hours to the contrary.”

“Normally, I’m not.” I continued running my fingers along the edge of the cotton top. Fantasies of ripping it in two pieces to get to the treasure beneath were assaulting my imagination.

I leaned even closer to Hannah so I could speak right into the pit of her ear. “I’m not sure what you’re doing to me, Ms. Farsey, but it’s maddening. And elemental.” Impulsively, I darted my tongue out and slowly licked the shell of her ear. “And intoxicating.”

I pulled back to regard her expression but didn’t put space between our bodies. While I wanted to gauge her reaction before continuing, I didn’t—no—I couldn’t bring myself to move away from her.

When I said this next part, I wanted to be sure she listened to my words with careful consideration. With slow, seductive, and dangerous promise on every single syllable, I confessed to my beautiful Hannah, “I want to hurt you just so I can comfort you. I want to fuck you roughly so I can make love to you sweetly. I want you to know every extreme sensation your body is capable of feeling by my hands. I want to be like a drug in your veins, girl. I want you to beg for it. Need it. Hate it and love it.”

“I—umm—I—uhh—”

I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, but judging by her immediate retreat backward, she didn’t appreciate the levity. Fortunately for me, she couldn’t go far.

“Hannah? Can I ask you something?”

“I—I—think so. Yeah, sure.” She exhaled dramatically after finally getting out a complete sentence.

“Be honest with me when answering, please.”

“All right. But then I really have to get going. I have all this to deal with.” She motioned to the catering cart with a wide, sweeping hand gesture.

“Have you had sex before? With a man?”

“Not that it’s any of your concern,” the goddess in front of me snapped. Damn, her foul attitude turned me on.

Coolly, I replied, “Of course it’s my concern.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because when we fuck—and Hannah? We will fuck—I want to know what I’m dealing with going in.”

She opened her mouth to respond and then closed it again. Opened again with a sharp inhale, maybe ready to reply with a better quip than the first time, but just as quickly snapped her lower jaw closed with a clack so loud I was concerned for the integrity of her molars.