Page 99 of Bleed

Elliott tips back the glass and drains it in two long swallows. For someone who goes on and on about savoring wine, he definitely doesn’t take his time with blood. It’s as if he drinks it purely out of necessity, without a hint of enjoyment.

I watch his throat work as he swallows and the slow sweep of his tongue over his lips afterwards, memories of last night creeping in uninvited. Heat unfurls low in my belly at the thought of having his mouth on me last night, my thighs clenching together.

Jesus.

I will myself to get a fucking grip, but then he turns toward the sink to rinse the glass, my gaze drifting to the broad line of his shoulders beneath the fabric of his sweatshirt. He’s all lean lines and hard-earned muscle, and suddenly all I can think about is the way his hands felt gripping my hips last night– strong, steady, and completely in control.

He dries his hands on a towel before turning to face me, and I straighten so fast I nearly give myself a head rush, pretending I haven’t spent the last thirty seconds shamelessly checking him out.

His dark-eyed gaze finds mine through the lenses of his glasses, unreadable as ever. He holds my stare for a beat, then asks, “Did you receive the contract addendum?”

Straight to the point.

“Wow,” I snort. “No lube?”

He tilts his head, brow furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You just went in raw,” I chuckle. “No warm-up, no foreplay. Just straight to the hard talk.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a reply. He just lets the silence stretch, studying me with maddening patience until I’m practically squirming beneath the weight of his stare.

“Yeah, I got it,” I finally say.

His gaze drifts over me, one dark brow arching as his eyes return to mine. “And?”

God, the last thing I want right now is to discuss the stupid contract details.

The impulsive part of me wants to throw caution to the wind and just sign it as-is so we can skip the awkward formalities and just take our clothes off. But Taylor’s nagging voice echoes in the back of my mind, along with the promise I made her to talk things over with Elliott before signing.

“I… have a few points of negotiation,” I mutter begrudgingly.

He nods once, like he expected that. “I thought you might.” He gestures toward the living room. “Shall we go over the details?”

I internally cringe at the suggestion.

“Can I make a drink first?” I ask.

He gives me another once-over, eyes lingering a little too long on my mouth before he answers. “Perhaps a water,” he suggests. “If we’re going to discuss contractual terms, I’d prefer you remain clearheaded.”

“Psh.” I wave him off. “I do my best thinking on a margarita buzz.”

Rather than arguing, he simply hands me a cold bottle of water from the fridge, which I accept without further comment. I twist off the cap, chug half of it, then lead the way to the living room, swishing my hips a little more than necessary just in case he’s watching.

Spoiler alert– he is.

I can feel his eyes on me as I round the couch and flop down onto it, sprawling out and patting the cushion beside me.

“Which provisions of the addendum would you like to discuss?” he asks as he takes a seat, leaving a respectable amount of space between us.

“I actually highlighted some things,” I murmur, fishing my phone from my pocket.

The barest hint of surprise flickers across his face, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

Bet he wasn’t expecting me to actually take notes.

Unlocking the screen, I pull up the annotated addendum and scroll to the first highlight, hesitating for just a second before saying, “Restraints.”

He inclines his chin, waiting.