AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My words are met with silence. I don’t look back to see his reaction. If I do, I won’t be able to keep from running back into his arms.
Chapter17
Jeb
South Carolina
The ocean feels good. It's been too long since I grabbed a board and lost myself in riding the waves. Bull Island doesn’t offer the challenge of the waves on the West Coast, but it will do till I can make it out to San Diego.
I surf until the ocean settles and then go drop on the blanket I’d laid on the beach before I’d caught my first wave.
I hadn’t been planning to make a detour to South Carolina, but since Eli put a stop to joining me for any of the fun activities I’d planned for us as we followed Route 1 up to the East Coast, I figured I might as well stay south, rob a few Patriots Now pawn shops, and get some surfing in.
It helps with the frustration.
The frustration of once again being shut out by Eli Bash. He’s a lock I can’t pick. A safe I can’t crack. A payoff I can’t collect on. It's driving me mad.
I’m still not sure what exactly happened the night we stayed at the StanleyHotel. One minute, he was telling me a story about his mother, and the next, he’d put up a wall around him I couldn’t scale.
Not to mention, he has been mean as a striped snake since that night.
Every short word. Every impatient sigh. Every irritated look makes me want to drive him to the edge of the anger he keeps stabbing me with. I need to see what’s on the other side.
Instead, I’ve taken to avoiding him.
I rented us a condo on the beach. It’s a short walk to the water, and the neighbors are a bunch of fun-loving, marine biology grad students who make a habit of crab boils and bonfires on the beach. I join them most nights. I prefer to drink from pitchers of Mai Tais late into the night to laying in my bed in the condo, waiting for Eli to crawl into my arms, until the sun starts to rise and I realize he’s not going to.
One of the students, Martina, a beautiful woman in her early thirties, keeps asking me to go back to her condo with her. I’m not sure why I keep finding excuses not to go with her. After all, my plans to seduce Eli have come to a grinding halt, and I’ve never been one to say no to a good time.
Last night, I decided to hell with it. I’d spent the whole day riding around in a cobalt blueMustangin almost total silence. Other than a few vicious barbs Eli threw my way, he ignored me while we cased a high-end pawnshop.
So last night at yet another bonfire, when Martina let her hand travel up my thigh and offered to make me feel good. I decided to lean in, kiss her, and get the party started.
Her soft lips tasted nice beneath mine, and as her practiced hands wrapped around my cock, I knew we’d be a good match. The sex would be easy and good between us.
But somehow, good wasn’t enough for me anymore, and easy just wasn’t doing it for me.
I deepened the kiss, needing something more intense. She moaned into my mouth, but it was a practiced response meant to turn me on.
Suddenly, the image of the way Eli tried to hide the way he trembled when I was close to him flashed through my brain.
This fun, casual hook-up wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t what I needed.
What I needed was half a mile away, holed up in the condo, furiously typing away on his computer.
I wanted his intensity. I needed his warmth.
Even if he was currently driving me around the bend, I’d pick time spent with him over this empty encounter.
So, I pulled away from Martina, made my apologies, and then went home to my empty bed and waited for Eli, who, once again, never came.
I canceled today's plans to rob the pawnshop. I’m not focused enough. I’m liable to get us arrested or caught if I tried to pull off a heist today. Instead, I came out here to surf and try to get my mojo back, so I’m ready to hit the shop tomorrow.
The sun is starting to set. It’s probably best to avoid Martina and tonight’s bonfire. After a quick shower to wash the sea off of me, I’ll run over to one of the local food trucks and pick up some crab cakes for dinner.
I let myself into the condo. As usual, the place is quiet. Eli is probably in his room, where he’s chosen to set up shop, instead of in the living room, where he might have to spend time with me.
I throw open the bathroom door, and there Eli is, standing in front of the shower with the water running. His shirt is off, but clutched in one hand, while the other hand has paused on the third snap of his jeans, with two snaps already open.
