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Never Eli.
My lips parted, a silent breath leaving me as I searched for the right words to spit back. This wasn’t like him. I knew it was the alcohol talking, but it still didn’t make it alright.
He scrubbed his hand over his face as he scooted to the edge of the leather couch. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No,” I quietly agreed. “You shouldn’t have.” Slowly, he lifted his head, his face tight. “Are you mad at me?” I didn’t know why it mattered. I told myself it shouldn’t matter, that I was my own person and had every right to go out with Benji tonight.
But even I knew that was a lie. I cared what Eli thought. I wanted his approval. I craved it.
I held my breath as he stared at me, his eyes unfocused. I wondered what he was thinking about, what he saw when he looked at me. Did he truly see me? Or did he see Meredith?
“Mad?” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “No, Reagan. I’m not mad. I just—” He let out a harsh breath. “I just don’t like the idea of anyone else touching you.”
“Else?” The word slipped from my lips before I could stop it.
We stared at each other, that single word hanging in the air between us, sucking all the air from the room. With his eyes still boring into mine, he staggered to his feet. Every stumbling step toward me made my pulse beat wildly.
A part of me wanted to run to my room, to just dodge him and pretend like this interaction hadn’t happened. He just needed to sleep this off and hopefully forget that it had ever happened.
Did I want him to forget it happened, though?
Finally, he stopped a foot from me. My chest heaved as I took a breath, and his eyes dropped to it, his jaw flexing as he stared at the low-cut neckline. My body surged with a mix of desire and fear. I wasn’t afraid of Eli, but I was afraid of toeing this line with him. Yet I couldn’t help but imagine what his lips would feel like against mine.
“Yes,” he hissed, stumbling forward another step. I blinked, my thoughts fleeing as I refocused on him. “I don’t like knowing he had his hands on you.” His possessive gaze met mine again, and it was suddenly impossible to swallow. To breathe.
He rested his hand on the door by my head, his whiskey-scented breath warm against my skin. My heart raced as he lifted his hand to gently stroke my jaw.
“Where did he touch you, Reagan?” he muttered, his glazed eyes tracking his fingers’ movement.
“Nowhere,” I whispered. His eyes snapped to mine.
“Don’t lie to me, angel.” My breath hitched at the name. Slowly, he lifted his hand further, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Where did he touch you?” His voice was huskier than I’d ever heard, deeper and filled with something that made my pussy throb.
“Here,” I breathed, resting my hand on my thigh. His gaze lowered to it, following my movement as I dragged my hand up, stopping at the short hem of my skirt.
His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Where else?” I slid my hand higher, letting it disappear under the short fabric and his breath caught. “With his fingers?”
I shook my head, and he let out a low growl. A soft whimper left me as my fingers brushed against my hot, damp panties. I teased myself over the soft fabric, my eyes slowly shutting as I leaned against the door.
Benji hadn’t really touched me. He hadn’t done more than rest his hand on my leg in the car and during the movie, held my hand at the diner. But he didn’t touch me like this. The way I wanted Eli to.
“Did you let him fuck you?” he snarled, banging his hand against the door. My eyes snapped open, and for some stupid reason, my body coiled tighter at the fury raging in his eyes. “Reagan, don’t fuck with me right now. Did he fuck you?” His hand tightened into a fist, his body vibrating with his restraint.
I gasped as my fingers pressed harder against my panties, the fabric rough against my swollen, sensitive clit. His jaw ticked as he watched me, impatiently waiting.
“No,” I whimpered. He squeezed his eyes shut, his lips tightening. I rubbed a small, tight circle over my clit, moaning at the feeling shooting through my body.
“Reagan,” he rasped.
“Touch me,” I pleaded, my voice breathy and needy. “Please, Elliot.” His eyes fluttered open, even more bloodshot than they’d been moments ago. His hand dropped, and he gripped my thigh.
“You want me to touch you?” he snarled. I nodded frantically, rubbing myself faster. His hand slid between my legs, and he laughed as he rested it over mine, feeling the jerky movements of my fingers. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”
“Eli.” My eyes rolled back as he pressed my fingers harder against my clit. I gave complete control over to him, letting him direct my fingers the way he wanted. He moved them fast and hard, his gaze burning into me as he watched me writhe against the door.
“Is this what you wanted?” he grunted. “You wanted me touching your wet little cunt?” I forced my eyes open as I nodded. “Did you think about me while he had his hands on you? Did you think about how good it would feel to have my cock inside you?”
“Oh, fuck,” I whimpered.
