Hold Me (Love The Way Duet 2)

I stop touching her.

Ella bites her lip, but she doesn’t push me on it again. She seems to sense the power between us. I’m controlling this, the way I do everything else. And I will reward her immensely for having the pleasure of teasing her like this.

“Good girl,” I murmur into her ear, rewarding her with my hand back between her legs. “You’re letting me play with you as much as I want. Following all the rules. You are being so good for me.”

She lets out a shuddering sigh and when I dip down to her center, I find her hot and wet.

I toy with her all through dinner, and Ella turns down dessert when the waiter is still mid-sentence. Very much on edge and in need of getting the hell out of here and into bed. It’s a good look on her. My insatiable smart-mouthed, yet obedient submissive.

Good. Because I’m wound tight too. I’m so fucking hard it hurts. I need her. I have to be careful when I stand, opting for discretion.

I escort her out of the restaurant with my hand on the small of her back. A stiff breeze greets us as we head toward the parking garage. Ella walks quickly, doing her best to keep up with my long strides. She’s out of breath by the time we get to the third floor of the parking garage. “How do you do it?” she says as she hurries for the car. “How do you wait? Because I want you so much that I—”

“I’m done waiting.”

I get one flash of relief in her dark eyes, and then I have my mouth on her. On her lips, and the side of her neck, and her collarbone. Fuck anyone who happens to walk up here. I’ve never experienced this desire Ella has, but I’ll share it with her. A fast, hard fuck where someone could see. I’m careful as I push Ella’s back against a concrete pillar, and she wraps her legs around me as if she’s done it a thousand times. Hanging on tight while I deal with my zipper and push the fabric of her panties aside.

There’s no mercy for her as I slam my cock to the hilt inside of her, knowing she’s been ready for almost an hour now. “Fuck me,” I groan in the crook of her neck. She feels like heaven.

Ella moans, her tightness enveloping me, her hips rocking back and forth. I’ve never felt anything this soft or sweet or hot, and I want to fuck her like this all night. The chill of the night wraps around us but it’s no match for how warm and wet she is. I brace one hand against her ass and work the other between us to get to her clit.

“I’m not teasing this time,” I growl into her ear. “Come for me.”

She comes hard around me, squeezing tight, her cries echoing off the parking garage. The adrenaline rushes through my blood, my pulse racing. Nothing else matters in this moment except Ella.

Ella

The weeks pass in a blur. Every day checking off a list. Greeting Zander on my knees seems to be a favorite of his as time goes by. It’s the first item on the slip of paper he gives me in the morning.

I love those moments.

The days, though … they come with ups and downs. Small moments where I feel so much lighter and then darker times where I close my eyes and remind myself: Grief is a ball in a box and it’s okay.

The thoughts barely stay for long, because Zander’s there or Damon. Even Kamden has been coming more frequently, making arrangements for me to attend different social events if I want to, all of them already approved by Zander and Damon.

They say I’m getting closer to a new normal, but almost every night, I glance down the hall no one talks about. When we lie together in bed, sometimes I forget and I think I’m in bed with James down the hall, being held and kissed and loved by him. Then I wake up, and it processes slowly.

I haven’t told anyone. Not Damon, not Zander. Because if I said what I’m thinking, maybe they’d think I’m crazy. I think James wants me to go down the hall. I think he wants me to go back into our bedroom. Even if it’s just to say goodbye.

Maybe he wants me to know that he’s okay with everything that’s happened. Maybe he’s trying to tell me he still loves me, even if I’m in bed with another man. Maybe he wants me to know he misses me. Maybe it’s all in my head.

The low rumble of an approaching thunderstorm drowns out the rustling of the trash bag at my side. It’s easier to handle than the damn cardboard box I found in the garage, so I settled for it. The gray skies and increasing winds of the incoming downpour feel right for the occasion.