Page 45 of Elijah’s Whim

I must have waited longer than this cruel man preferred because he barked, “Now!”

“Once a quarter.”

“Thank you for being honest, Hannah. Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” He had started taking slow front-to-back strokes over my tender folds, and I was thrust right back to the edge of ecstasy. I never pleasured myself with this technique, but I was sure as hell going to be changing that crime against womanhood in the near future.

“Oh my God. Oh my God, why…”

“Are you close? Feels good, yeah?”

“So good. I didn’t know that. I didn’t know.” I heard myself babbling but couldn’t string a more intelligent thought together to replace the babble.

And then he stopped again.

“No! No. Why are you doing this? Why are you teasing like this? It’s so cruel. Just get away. Get off. Get up—” I tried pushing him, but it was no use. I was wrung out from the frustration, and the man had about one hundred pounds of weight on me.

“Stop, Hannah,” my sexy man warned, and we both sat up.

Well, he wasn’t my man, was he?

“Is this your idea of fun? Ramp a woman up and then leave her hanging there? Did too many girls bruise your ego when you were a teen or something? I mean, why would you be so cruel like this? What’s in—”

I was abruptly silenced when his very demanding mouth pressed to mine. Elijah must’ve figured it was the best way to quiet me because the other attempts were failures. When I saw he was about to speak, I would immediately launch another verbal torpedo his way. I was fuming when he left me hanging the second time, but now, with his plush lips where I’d wanted them for so long and his skillful tongue stroking mine, I couldn’t remember my own name, let alone if I had been mad or happy.

When we finally parted, we were both winded. I gripped his biceps so tightly, my short fingernails dug into his skin and left little semicircle indentations behind. My head spun like I’d just been on an amusement park ride, and I was glad I was sitting on the bed.

The hungry look on Elijah’s face was so sexy and dark, I forgot all about being pissed at him and wanted more from wherever that kiss just came from.

I’d suspected this guy was dark, dirty trouble, and I was right. He scrambled my brain and made me irrational by making me focus on feeling things I’d long since stopped feeling. But when he crawled over and straddled my partially exposed body again, I let him push me back down beneath him without resisting.

“Now,” he said, holding his body over mine in a plank.

Jesus, I wanted to yank all his clothes off and study his muscles all bunched and flexed from the stress of doing the move.

“Are you listening to me?” he asked, looking like he must have said something else and hadn’t gotten a reply in the amount of time he prescribed to be reasonable.

“No. I’m absolutely not. Sorry. Can you repeat the question? And possibly look less sexy while doing so?” I closed the small distance between us and kissed his lips—just a peck this time—and then flopped back down into the pillows.

“You’re trouble, Ms. Farsey. I think I better keep a very close eye on you.”

“I’m trouble? Are you kidding me right now?” I squawked incredulously. “Oh my God, this guy.”

“Okay, this is the question. Remember, honesty first. Forget embarrassment or whatever.”

“I hate these setups you do. I’m just going to tell you that right now. It makes me way more tense than if you just asked the damn question.”

He quirked his brow, and I returned the gesture, making him laugh again.

“See? Total and complete trouble.”

“The question?”

“When’s the last time you were with a man?”

“Oh boy, talk about mood killer.” I threw my hands up. “I don’t know. I’d say, three years ago.” Up with the hands again. “Give or take,” I said, starting out with confidence, but because of our proximity, I was able to watch Elijah’s expression change as he processed the information. “I’m pretty sure it’s like riding a bike, though.” But that comment didn’t even get a chuckle. “Okay, chief, spit it out. What’s the problem? We went from hot sexy fun times to this. I thought your fish friend was the moody one? At least according to Rio, he is.”

“Ha, she should talk,” Elijah spat with a fair amount of venom.

“Was that in defense of Sebastian or an attack on Rio?”