Page 104 of Ruled By Rivalry

“Why would you—?!” He cut himself off with a groan. I wasn’t sure if he was more frustrated with me or himself. Settled, once more, on “Maeve.”

Voice lower yet again.

Innocence radiated in every syllable when I teased, “Elliot?”

Another groan. “Yes?”

I turned off the water, and I could feel the way he stiffened. Hear the way his breath hitched in the sudden silence of the bathroom.

“Hand me my towel, will you?”

I could see his outline through the curtain, the way he hesitated, gaze glued to the ceiling. The way he gave himself a push, then reached for the towel, then held it out to me. “Don’t you dare,” he added as an afterthought.

I wrapped it around myself. “Hm?”

“Don’t you dare come out of there when I’m still in this room.”

Laughing, I complied. Stayed behind that make-believe barrier still separating us. And it just felt so nice to be flirting with him without any kind of guilt attached. “What? Are you scared of me?”

“Very.”

He scrambled out of the room, and it took less than a second before I heard his door fall shut, too.

I really did try not to smile. At him. At this. At us. The fogged-up reflection of myself in the mirror showed me I’d failed.

It felt wrong to go back out there, pretending something hadn’t just shifted between us. I took my time, towel wrapped tight around my body. Brushing my teeth, washing my face. Moisturizing, face and body. Hoping and praying that with just enough time, I’ll figure out what to do next. How to go about this.

Twenty minutes weren’t enough, but I steered for him the second I left the bathroom anyway. I don’t know why I didn’t leave when I heard him through the door of his room. Maybe because it was my name on his lips, and I was only human.

A human who, when hearing her own name, moaned through a door, couldn’t help it.

I was a bad person, I decided, and still didn’t leave. Still stood in front of his door thirty seconds that felt like hours later, frozen in place.

My name cut off into another hum of satisfaction and frustration and everything else I was feeling, too. Exactly the way I’d felt when I’d touched myself to the thought of him. Only that I’d managed to stay quiet. I think.

The moment felt too unreal to grasp. I didn’t know what was happening until it already was.

Someone turned the doorknob, and it wasn’t me. Couldn’t be. Maybe an alter ego I didn’t know existed, taking over. An alter ego who’d definitely had sex before and was confident enough to be good at it.

I found him the way I thought I would. On the edge of his bed, with his hand wrapped around his cock, pulsing, tip glistening. Maybe that haze of lust had settled in his brain too, because he didn’t startle. He looked at me, as if he wasn’t quite sure if I was actually there or just a very realistic fantasy. The way he said my name in that same way sent goose bumps down my body, only shielded by a towel. I clutched it closer.

Elliot exhaled, and the sound was dangerously close to something else entirely. “I have nothing to say in my defense.” He tried to sound remorseful, I think, and failed. His hand didn’t move. His cock twitched.

Meanwhile, I tried not to stare and failed at that too. I closed the door behind me, took another step into the room that seemed to surprise him, at least a little bit. All without taking my eyes off him.

His flexed abs, the muscles straining his arm, and his large hand around his impressive size. His impressive size.

I didn’t have anything to say in my defense, either. I’d never been this turned on in my life, not even when he’d had his fingers and tongue between my thighs. A tear ran down my leg.

Every single pretense I’d tried to keep up in the bright lights of the Adeline Ashwood offices for weeks melted away at the look we shared.

I took another step. He didn’t mean to tighten around himself; I could tell by the surprised hiss of pleasure. I don’t think he really meant for his hand to move either. Just once before he managed to get it back under his control. “Maeve,” he said again, threateningly close to begging.

When his eyes jumped back up to mine, his pupils dilated.

“Don’t.” There was no conviction in his plea. “You shouldn’t. Come closer, I mean.” His other hand flexed against his sheets. “You don’t want this,” he said, like he was very sure of the fact.

I finally stood between his legs. “Says who?”