Oh, yeah.
Sexy asfuck.
Yeah, I have issues with needing to feel wanted. So sue me.
“I wanted to know if you were with anyone else,” he said. “I would’ve had you dragged back here in handcuffs if you had been. But itkilledme knowing you were alone and crying. I wanted to kill Leo for letting you suffer like that. Theonedamn time above all others when he should’ve rightfully put his foot down and ordered you to stay, he fucking let you leave. Then he wouldn’t go get you and bring you home, where you belonged.”
Holy…shit.Here I thought Leo was stalky?
This is big-boss level shit, right here.
Goddamn, that’s sexy asfuck.
Apparently, he guesses my thoughts. “Yeah. He’s DIY stalky by training and nature.” His possessive smile widens. “I outsourced it.”
“So, when you told me you thought there was a tracking app on my phone…”
“I knew there was. And I wanted you to shut your phone off and keep it off. To punish Leo and make him worry about you. I didn’t want him knowing you were back, at first. I wanted you all to myself for a while.”
Fuuuuuck me.
Here I thoughtIwas nearly as good as Leo at playing things close to the vest. Elliot has both of us beat.
Oh, shit.Fear slams into me. “Do you have me followed now?”
He shakes his head. “No, Sir.” His smile turns bashful, my boy back in the house. “Not since that night when you came back to me, I swear.”
“Elliot, youhaveto be able to trust me. There will be times I need to do things for you that you cannot know about.”
He nods. “I know, Sir. I do trust you. That’s why I forced myself to chill out and not have you followed once you came back. I was determined to win you over on my own.”
I kiss him. “Love you, El.”
He smiles, the handsome, sweet smile of my boy. “Love you, too, Sir.” His smile fades. “Do you hate me?”
“No. I couldneverhate you, baby.” I kiss him again. I love the way he kisses. “But no more lies. And I think you just eclipsed Leo in the stalky department.”
He smiles again. “Well, if he had a nearly unlimited budget, he’d probably still have me beat there.”
“True.”
Later, as we lie there after Elliot falls asleep and my body’s trying to release its tenacious hold on the events of the past couple of days, I struggle not to laugh.
Here I thought I was several steps ahead in the game, and likely, so did Leo.
Turns out the two of us are stumbling around and playing three-legged hopscotch, badly, while Elliot’s sitting miles above us playing three-dimensional chess, and still kicking our asses even though he’s blindfolded, and has one hand tied behind his back.
Unbelievable.
My boy will be a fuckingawesomepresident.
