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“I hope you and Thor have a great night together,” I called back.
Ten minutes later, Cash pulled Johnny into the back bedroom along with some of the money from the stash. From the sounds coming from the bedroom, Cash had succeeded in making Johnny forget that he’d been injured, at least for a little while, to have a ménage à trois with a bed of Benjamin Franklins.
Which left me and Eli in the living room listening to ‘Let’s Get It On’ on repeat and Cash and Johnny having sex.
Eli blushes at the sounds echoing through the suite, while I stare at him and wonder exactly where that blush of his starts. The hoodie that’s practically his uniform is zipped almost to his chin.
I start fantasizing.
How I’d slowly peel down that zipper, exposing his neck and soft skin an inch at a time. I’d find the fluttering pulse at his neck and rub my calloused thumb over it, causing him to gasp, and his heart to start tapping out a heavy metal beat at my touch. Then I’d lean down to drop a light kiss on the spot. But, at the sweet taste of him, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from nipping and sucking at his skin. The sound of his answering whimpers, urging me on until a large dark bruise covers his skin and marks him as mine. A flood of possessive satisfaction runs through me at the sight. All mine.
What the fuck?
I sit up straight from the lounge chair I’d been watching Eli from.
I’m Jebediah Ezekiel Jones. I don’t have possessive fantasies about marking my sex partners. Hell, I rarely bother to remember their names.
Cash was an exception. We’d had fun, easy sex together, and while he and Daisy had become the closest thing to friends I’d probably ever had, I’d never wanted to lay any kind of lover’s claim on him. It was always clear he was heartsick over some long-lost lover, and when Johnny came back into his life, I was genuinely happy my kinda-friend wasn’t walking around brokenhearted anymore. That doesn’t mean I don’t love reminding Johnny that I know what Cash’s cock looks like—just for the pure joy of watching Johnny’s blood pressure climb.
I’m a troublemaker, so sue me.
But possessiveness has never been my MO. Wanting to mark Eli so much that my cock is still rock hard at the fantasy image of it is crazy. That’s not me.
Sure, I like the kid. Sure, I’m rubbing callouses on my fingers jacking off to fantasies of fucking him. Sure, I made sure that we’ll be spending the next few months road-tripping together because I didn’t want him to leave me and head back to New York.
But none of that means anything. I just like having him as my partner in crime. He’s a freaking genius and makes my goal of being legendary easier. Plus, I like being the one to get him to stop being so withdrawn. Being the one to draw out all his intense emotions and responses so they can be focused on where they belong—me. To make his pulse beat as I place my calloused thumb…
Fuck, I’m doing it again.
“I’m going to bed,” I announce and am halfway out to the bedroom when I look back to see Eli’s confused dark eyes watching me flee.
Is he disappointed I didn’t ask him to join me?
I had planned to coax him into my arms tonight, even if I had to trick him back into the handcuffs again. I wanted to make sure he slept instead of working on his computer all night, downing energy drinks until he vibrated. I wanted to comfort him if he had another nightmare.
But I need a break from him and all the confusing emotions he’s stirring up in me. A night away from him will make everything settle back into place. I just need to exert a little control.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I settle into the bed that feels strangely large without Eli beside me.
A little more self-control, and tomorrow when Eli and I start our road trip, we’ll be able to settle into the roles we’re both comfortable in—the hacker and the thief.
* * *
Five am, and I’m still awake. I’ve never had trouble sleeping before. Usually, I close my eyes, and I’m out. Not tonight. I’ve rearranged the pillows and tangled the sheets from tossing and turning. Eli’s scent still clings to the sheets, and it’s both too much and not enough of him at the same time.
The door opens with a faint creak. There, standing in the doorway, is Eli. He looks terrible. His lips are wobbling, and the dark circles are back under his eyes, which are looking at me with a silent, but frantic, plea. My response to that plea is instant and automatic.
I open my arms.
He almost runs to the bed and dives in. I immediately scoop him into my arms that had felt empty all day, hold him to me, and finally get a full, addicting breath of his scent.
To hell with control.
Chapter10
Eli
Tennessee
