My eyes roll.
“I don’t need you to solve all my problems, Elliot. I can take care of myself.”
“I know that,” he hisses. “But I’d really rather you didn’t.”
“Oh, gods, here we go again with your wolf bullshit. What, are you gonna pee on me next?”
“Nah, I’ve never been into that kind of thing.”
My face runs slack, and Elliot groans as he realizes his usual teasing tactics aren’t working.
“Oh, come on, princess, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I say, arms crossed.
“Like you want to kill me. It only makes me want to fuck you.” He grimaces, pulling at that stupid choker he seems to hate but never takes off. “You’re so gorgeous when you’re mad, and you expect me to just stand here? You’re asking for too much.”
Heat rises in my chest, and I face the wall, unable to keep looking at him, but Elliot, persistent as always, follows. His arms come around me, pressing the evidence of his honesty into my ass, and causing the deep heat to sink lower.
I’ve received a lot of compliments in my life, more than I could count, from men and women of every kind. But never have I received one quite like that.
“Elliot, please, you know?—”
“I know…” he whispers, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I’m not asking. I’m just saying, go easy on me.”
He brushes a knuckle down the back of my arm in an effort to soften me, and when that doesn’t work, he rests his chin in the curve of my neck, hugging me from behind.
The simple gesture feels far too intimate for our arrangement.
I can feel his heart thumping against my back, and his breath tickling my throat as he sniffs me. But the weight of his arms feels nice, and the heat settling in my chest is too intoxicating to pull away from, so I don’t.
“Iris,” Elliot mutters, drumming his fingers across my stomach. “Is this turning you on?”
“No,” I say, too quickly to be casual.
It doesn’t matter, though. We both know it’s a lie. My whole body is warm, and I can feel my arousal collecting in my underwear, but Elliot takes it upon himself to test my conviction.
He slips his hand into my top, cupping my bare breast, where he finds my nipple rock hard, and a quiet whimper escapes me as he squeezes.
“You like it when I hold you like this?” he asks.
I shake my head and welcome my punishment as he squeezes harder.
“More lies from that pretty mouth.”
Elliot circles the tender nub with his thumb, growling in my ear as his free hand grips my thighs. He drags my skirt up to my hips, and my breath hitches when his palm presses against my pussy.
“Bend over and spread your legs,” he demands.
“What?”
His fingers dig into my hip as he grows frustrated with my questions.
“Iris.” His deep voice rumbles in his chest. “Have I ever told you to do something you regretted?”
There was that one time he lured me into his bedroom to force me into being his girlfriend. But I wouldn’t say I regret it.
Resent? Maybe. But regret?
