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But both. And in the same room…
Yeah, I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a fork.
Sure enough, it was every ounce as bad as I was expecting.
By the time I returned to the Chapel, anger burned like a wildfire through me. My fingers cramped from the amount of time I had them fisted, fiery irritation prickled over my skin.
The only thing that made any of it bearable was the thought of Abigail being here waiting for me.
It’s selfish of me to want her like this.
To use her to settle everything that’s rioting inside me.
But I can’t help it.
I tried to stop myself by marching into the shower instead of crawling straight into my bed with her. But it did little to take the edge off the anger and frustration they always stir up within me.
The second I stepped out of the bathroom, there was only one place I was heading next.
She didn’t move as I lifted the sheets and slipped in behind her, and the second we collided, I relaxed. But it takes her a lot longer.
Long silent minutes pass as I enjoy the warmth of her body against mine.
I’ve never needed anyone the way I’m growing to need Abigail.She deserves so much more than what I can offer, but I can’t stop myself.I’m falling deeper and deeper into her trap, and she has no idea she’s even laid one.
Slowly, her muscles begin to relax, and I breathe a sigh of relief that she hasn’t scrambled away from me and demanded to know what the hell I’m playing at.
She stays silent and unmovable, but she’s more relaxed, accepting my embrace.
“I had a bad day,” I confess quietly, needing to give her a reason for my sudden desire to hold her. “The only thing that got me through it was knowing I was coming home to you.”
Her breath catches at my admission. It’s the only sign that she’s even heard me.
But as much as I might want to tell her more, I know I can’t. She has enough of her own shit to deal with. She doesn’t need me loading mine onto her shoulders.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she offers after a few more minutes.
Her voice is rough, making me wonder if she spent the whole time I was gone crying.
My grip on her waist tightens as if it’ll help squeeze the sadness out of her.“No. I want to forget.”
She clears her throat and shifts a little in my arms.
It’s an innocent move—I think—but the second her perfect arse grinds against my dick, I have to bite down on my cheeks to stop a groan from spilling free.
Thinking unsexy thoughts, I try to lock down my reaction to her.
But it’s hard. Really fucking hard when her curves are right there, and her sweet scent fills my nose.
“Okay,” she breathes before falling silent again.
Tucking my face into her neck, I breathe her in, loving the way she shudders in my arms.
It makes me wonder how things could be if I weren’t Elliot Eaton.
If I were just a normal boy without more expectations resting on his shoulders than should be possible.
If I had a normal family who would accept her, welcome her in as one of us.
