Page 47 of Brutal Titan

Victoria

“Go away,” I yell over the blaring music while looking at my phone. I get excited because Quinn is actually on her way to the party, and it’ll be nice to have someone to let loose with. Not that I haven’t started doing so already. I spent all week ignoring Elliot’s sad attempts to talk because I don’t want to hear it. He claims he tried to tell Asher, but I’m done because I know he will keep flaking out. Again and again. And I don’t want to think about any of it, which is next to impossible since he refuses to leave me alone. Sure enough, Elliot remains in front of me as I holler at him to back off once again, which he ignores.

“Slow down, Victoria,” he shouts, eyeing the bottle in my hand after I gulp another shot.

“Why? Scared I might have a good time and come without you?” I snort, laughing at the thought, but he doesn’t seem amused. “Just go annoy my brother. He is your best friend after all.”

I pour another shot and look past him, wishing he would just leave me alone already. When I spot Quinn walking in, I wave her over, ignoring the butthead in front of me because he has to give up eventually.

“Quinn! I’m so hap-py you are here!” I singsong, patting the granite countertop as she hops up next to me, accepting the shot that I’d originally poured for myself but could definitely do without since I’ve had my fair share already.

“Just keep her from doing stupid shit,” Elliot shouts to Quinn.

Anger surges through me as I glare in his direction because the only “stupid shit” I’ve done is fuck him. Refilling the shot, I decide I haven’t had enough after all.

“Worry about yourself, Bah-ass.” I down the shot, refill the glass, then pass it to Quinn. She downs it without hesitation and I promptly refill it so she can take another.

Cursing, Elliot shakes his head. “Come get me if there’s a problem.”

My eyes are fixed on him as I pour another shot, swallowing the whiskey down in one gulp before dragging the back of my hand across my mouth to wipe away a drop that trailed down my chin. “You are the problem.”

I probably should stop, but I don’t want to, so I pour another, his eyes locked with mine. Just before the glass touches my lip, Elliot snatches it from my hand. Whiskey splashes on my bare thighs as he brings the remainder to his lips, gulping the shot with his eyes still challenging me. Asshole.

I’m so sick of Elliot Bass I could scream. But that wouldn’t make him go away either because he’s determined to make me miserable. Bringing the bottle to my lips, I keep my glare on him, tilting my head back to take a generous swallow.

Elliot steps forward, his hand pushing up my thigh to wipe the sticky liquor off my skin. Slipping his hand under my skirt, his fingers grip my thigh the same way he had the other night when we were in bed together. Leaning forward, he places his mouth next to my ear and whispers, “Next time, it’ll be my tongue licking the whiskey off your thigh before tasting your sweet pussy.”

My body tenses, his words eliciting a vivid image of him doing just that. Again. A strong desire to feel his mouth on me rises in my core as his fingers clutch tighter on my thigh. I recognize the need in his eyes, knowing his words aren’t lacking the intention behind them.

His hand releases my thigh as he turns and walks away without another word.

Panic fills me when I come out of the sexual haze to realize Quinn has witnessed our entire exchange and there is no way it didn’t look as intense as it felt. “Don’t—”

“I won’t,” she immediately responds, knowing that I don’t want any of that scene getting back to Asher.

“Wanna dance?” Quinn asks soon after, thankfully breaking up my inappropriate lust-filled thoughts about Elliot freakin’ Bass. I solely blame the liquor because it’s not a good idea. At all. Even if his stupid words summoned a craving that still surges inside my core, it will bring nothing but pain afterwards. My best bet is to enjoy the night without him.

“Yes!” Yelling excitedly, I pass the bottle to Quinn before we hop off the counter, dancing our way to the makeshift dance floor.

Swaying to the beat, we’re enjoying ourselves, and I let the music overtake my thoughts. It’s actually exactly what I need. A guy I don’t recognize shifts in front of me, matching his movements to mine, undulating to the upbeat music in sync with me. He’s a really good dancer, but when his eyes fill with panic, I wonder what the hell is wrong with him. I find out a split second later as I’m lifted off my feet, a strong arm around my waist. I thrash against Elliot. “Let me go.”

He ignores me as I look over, spotting Asher hauling Quinn off the dance floor too as Elliot yells to him, “I got this one.”

“What the actual fuck?” I shove away from him, stumbling backwards as he releases me once we are off the dance floor. Why’s he gotta ruin my good time? “Go find someone else to fuck with because I’m done.”

Turning back toward the dance floor, he counters my movement, stepping in front of me. “I’m not.”

Throwing my head back, I laugh, no doubt looking as crazy as I feel before the laughter fades. Shaking my head, I look to him. “It’s a little too late now.”

I push past him, no longer in the mood to dance because I know he’s not going to let me be. Heading upstairs, I slip into my room, tossing the door closed behind me. Before the latch clicks into place, the door flings open and Elliot steps inside, slamming it closed behind him. “What do you want from me?”

The desperation in his voice fuels my rage. He is not going to make me feel anything for him other than anger. He knows exactly what I want—him. But that isn’t an option, not without sharing him with the rest of the world. Because he won’t give me all of him; he needs to be the ringmaster of the damn Golden Olympus circus—always putting on a show for his audience, while I’m relegated to be one of his fucking clowns. And yet, here I am. Still yearning for his mouth on me and it’s driving me insane. Just like he is, and just like I’m about to do to him.

“Not a fuckin’ thing.” Stepping back, I keep my eyes on him, sitting on the bed as I spread my legs, skimming my hand up my thigh. As expected, his eyes follow my hand as it slips under my dress. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

He swiftly moves forward. Towering over me, he fails to mask his fury, which makes me want to push him further. “Stop playing with me before you get exactly what you’re asking for.”

“Like you know anything about what I want.”