Page 73 of Elijah’s Whim

But Grant stomped right over my attitude. “Because she’s hot as hell. Dude, in all seriousness, we’ll get through this mess too. We’ve been through worse in our lives. Way worse, as a matter of fact.”

“I know you’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow.” We ended our conversation, and I took a few minutes to stare out across the sand and just a bit farther to the ocean. The waves were small at the moment, while the tide was calmly in the middle of its never-ending cycle.

Life was so much like the tides. The daily rise and fall of—instead of water level—expectations, excitement, disappointment, joy, sadness, fear, and caution, for example.

Instead of the moon’s proximity and, to a lesser extent, the sun’s, we were affected by the people in our daily orbit. Our friends and family exerted themselves to influence our actions and our decisions just like the heavenly bodies pulled the water in the ocean to raise and lower the tide. Whoever pulled the hardest equaled high tide.

Right now, Shawna Miller was my high tide, and I didn’t appreciate the way her fucked-up waves were tossing my boat around. Not one bit. It was time to pull this vessel into the marina and get the fuck off. I had to control the things I could and protect the people I cared about. The people I loved. A smart sailor didn’t take his boat out to sea in the middle of a spring tide.

With an action plan coming together in my mind, I made a few phone calls while still outside. I could bank on the resistance I’d get the minute I got back inside, so I had to have as much in place as possible beforehand.

The last item on my mental to-do list was to find Marc and give him explicit instructions on resecuring my property while we were gone. I wanted the entire security system scrubbed and reinstated with new passwords and entry codes for everyone.

Back inside the house, I was a man on a mission. I strode toward Hannah’s suite with purpose and one intention.

Intention.

We were getting out of this place. Tonight.

“Hannah!” I bellowed her name before I reached her suite, so by the time I reached her door, I didn’t have to knock.

She pulled the wide panel open, and I walked her backward until she thumped against the wall of the entryway.

My flat palm covered most of her chest, and she must have been able to read the lust and need in my eyes. I could feel her heartbeat quickly climb beneath the pressure of my touch, and I slid my hand up until my fingers wrapped around her throat.

“Elijah—”

It wasn’t just a kiss that cut off her question—it was an oral assault. I could hear the small percentage of my psyche that clung to sanity telling me to slow down, be gentle with her. But then she made this husky, needy, whimpering sound in the back of her throat, and that voice was snuffed out like a candle in an evening breeze.

Finally, I tore my mouth off hers long enough to issue instructions.

“Pack a bag. We’re leaving here for a few days. Just the house, not town, so you’ll need clothes for work. You have ten minutes to be out in the garage.”

One last kiss, with a hard nip to her bottom lip that I know had to sting, but I didn’t look back after turning to leave the room again. I needed her to know this wasn’t up for argument or even discussion. And smart girl that she was, she didn’t utter a single word to my retreating back.

In just under ten minutes, we stood at the back of the black SUV while the security team loaded our bags into the back. The air between us was heavy with anticipation and, from Hannah, something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on yet. I’d get to the bottom of it on the drive to the hotel, though.

Carmen had booked a suite for us at the Ritz-Carlton in Marina del Rey through the following weekend. Staying downtown would’ve been smarter as far as commuting, but I had a need in my blood to be near the water when I slept at night. I suppose it stemmed from my early childhood, but I didn’t spend too much time in that cesspool to identify the reason. In the past, when I did see a therapist, most of the appointment time was spent dealing with the abandonment issues left over from Hensley.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Hannah finally asked when we were established on the freeway.

“We’re headed to a hotel for a staycation.” I grinned as I made air quotes around the ridiculous and overused expression.

“Something is so incongruous about you using layman’s words like staycation, Elijah Banks.” She laughed, catching the playful nature of my comment.

“I made air quotes,” I protested. “That has to count for something.”

“Nah, it still sounds ridiculous coming out of this mouth,” she said as she leaned closer.

Following her physical prompt, I leaned toward her and took her mouth in an aggressive openmouthed kiss. She was glassy-eyed when we finally parted a few minutes later, and her pink lips were a deep rose from extra blood pumping to the surface.

When she went to straighten back to her seat properly, I grabbed her behind the back of her neck and weaved my fingers through her loose braid.

“You know what doesn’t sound ridiculous when I say it?”

“I’m truly afraid to ask, when you have that feral look on your face.”

My stare just continued to penetrate every single inch of her. Her face, her body. Her mind. Her heart. Her soul. I wanted all of it.