Unfortunately, it looks like nudity is not going to be on the menu.
He’s still staring. Waiting. “It’s okay if you want to cancel our raincheck,” I finally tell him quietly. “I’ll understand.”
I wouldn’t like it, but not everyone can be ope—
His strong hands clamp onto my shoulders and pull me to my feet easily enough to make me simultaneously nervous and pissed off.
“What the fuck, Elliot?”
Before I can elbow him and show him the wicked self-defense moves Manwich taught me for these exact situations, he’s kissing me.
He’s kissing me?
Elliot Ransom is kissing me.
But he’s a two-point-five.
And yet, here we are. This is happening. Almost. The hands on me are hard and demanding, but his lips are all soft suggestion and restraint. He brushes them against mine once. Twice. The third time, a tremor runs through his muscular body, and he pulls away a bit.
“Is this…? Can I?”
Kryptonite.
Before my brain can screw things up, his stubble is scratching my palms because I’m tilting my head to fit our mouths together in answer. Hell yes. I trace his lower lip with my tongue and a rough sound escapes his throat. I need to hear that again. I have to taste more.
My back hits brick before I realize he’s moved me again. He’s controlling this. Controlling me. I’ve never been handled this way, rough but not painful. His strength is electrifying. I want him to put me where he needs me. To take what he needs.
Fingers tangled in my thick hair, he tugs my head into place so he can control the kiss as well. Take more of my mouth. His tongue finds mine and I groan in approval, stars exploding behind my closed eyelids.
Yes. Please. Like that.
Elliot kisses the way he’s done everything else since I met him. He jumps right in without holding back. The sounds of surprise and pleasure rumbling up from his chest are honest and revealing, so arousing I resist when he tries to pull back enough to suck in some much-needed air.
Fuck oxygen.
“Don’t go,” he growls against my mouth, both of us gasping. “Don’t.”
What?
He’s kissing me again before I can respond, but I don’t think he has to worry. I don’t want to go anywhere without him. I do want to touch the body I’ve been salivating over, but with my arms pinned between our chests and my hands still on his face, I’m trapped. And Elliot doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to let me go.
I tilt my hips forward until my erection brushes against the iron between his legs. It’s heavy and hard. Obnoxiously thick. I imagine him working to get it inside me and shiver, rubbing myself against him again.
Please.
He pins me to the wall with a growl, eating at my mouth as he keeps me still. Then I feel it. A pulse of movement. One curious flex followed by a grunt of pleasure. Impatient, I lift my leg, and wrap it around his thigh to drag him closer.
He gives in with a hungry moan, rubbing his cock against mine, rocking in a rhythm that’s going to make me come in my pants. I want them off. I want us naked, his hot flesh in my hands so I can show him how good it can feel. I’ve never been this eager to please. This greedy for it. If I had the breath, I’d beg.
Please fuck me. Oh God, please fuck me.
One second I’m burning up on the edge of glory, and the next I’m alone, blinking at his back in confusion. “Elliot?”
“I’m sorry.” His voice sounds scraped raw and ravaged. “I can’t. I don’t know what happened. I shouldn’t have...”
When his words register, all the heat cools until my veins are like ice. Familiar regret tastes acidic in my throat. I shouldn’t have.
I knew. I know. What other reaction could he have? And how many times does this need to happen to me before I overcome my compulsion for closet cases and curiosity seekers?
“In case you try to convince yourself later tonight that it was the other way around, you kissed me. I didn’t ask for that.”
You didn’t stop it either.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he starts, but I cut him off, suddenly exhausted.
“Don’t apologize. Do yourself a favor and forget it, neighbor. Put it out of your mind and I’ll do the same. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Before he can turn and see my face, I’m inside and locking the doors behind me. I don’t look back, walking straight up the stairs and into my bathroom to turn on the shower.
Did I finally find a flaw in Elliot Ransom?
I shed my clothes, step into the shower and turn my face into the spray, rehashing those last few moments. I begged him to fuck me. I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud until it was too late. I didn’t mean to, but once it was out there it took him out of the moment long enough to remember who he was. Who I was.