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I won’t give up on him. I won’t let him push me away.
At the end of the day, I could never fault Skylar for leaving Elliot. She found her person. But I can’t help but wonder if Ihave found mine, which would easily be the biggest challenge of my life.
Elliot might be the hardest, yet easiest, person to fall in love with. And for some reason, I think the universe picked me to be the missing piece to his puzzle.
If people are put on this earth for a reason, I strongly feel that Elliot’s heart and my heart were made of the same soul. When nothing and nowhere feels like home, sometimes you get lucky enough to find the one person who does. I’ve been searching for home my entire life, and now that I’ve found him, I’m not letting him go.
I just have to keep playing Elliot’s game. I can’t move too fast, or I’ll scare him away. I can’t move too slow, or he’ll slip away. I just…I have to keep beinghere. I have to be present, no matter how hard he tries to push me away. I have to continue standing my ground until he knows that I’m not going to leave him.
I’m ready to fight for the man who has no fight left in him. And one day, I hope he can finally see himself through my eyes.
TWENTY
Elliot
I’ve been dying to see her all day.
Hell, I almost canceled my meetings when I woke up with her body wrapped around me this morning. Her cheek was pressed tightly against my chest, and her leg was slung over my waist as if she were trying to climb me like a tree in her sleep. It took every ounce of strength I had to not call in and spend the day in bed with her. But I also know how much this pay increase means to her. So, I forced myself out of bed after placing a soft kiss to her forehead.
This has by far been the hardest work day of my entire life. I’ve been so fucking distracted because all I can think about is last night. Multiple times throughout my meetings, I’ve caught myself staring off into space, daydreaming about the soft curves of her body, her little moans and whimpers, how sweet she tasted on my tongue, and how good she felt in my arms.
Last night was the best sleep I’ve had in years. I didn't havenightmares. I didn't wake up sweating with the urge to vomit. I just slept.
I’ve made it clear to Roxanne that I have no interest in getting myself into another relationship. But I refuse to believe that last night was it for us…The last time I’ll kiss her lips or feel her soft body writhing beneath mine. I’ve never craved anyone or anything the way I crave her. Not even the finest bottle of whiskey.
Logistically, I know that we don’t work. I’m a complete asshole, and she’s the most caring, pure-hearted woman I’ve ever met. Even though Roxanne’s as stubborn as me, she also has the kind of heart that strives to see the good in the worst people. Terrible people like me.
On top of that, she’s my assistant. It’s not like we could ever have a real relationship. I won’t risk being the reason she loses her job.
I know that I’m the worst thing for Roxanne, but selfishly, I’m not ready to give her up just yet. Which is why I’m opening the door of a moving Uber to get to her as fast as I can.
The car screeches to a halt as I burst out of the backseat and jog to the hotel entrance. My driver bellows something to me, but I don’t hear him. My only focus is on getting to her. I’ll make sure to give him a hefty tip through the app.
Cool air blows against my cheeks as I push through the glass doors of the lobby. I run a hand through my hair in an attempt to tame it. I’m feeling…anxious to see Roxanne, which is new for me. Oftentimes, I get excited to see her, but not nervous. But I guess letting her fuck my face and painting her naked body with my cum changes a few things between us.
God, the sight of her flushed and wiggling against the mattress…I will never get that view out of my head.Never.
Roxanne texted me a few hours ago to let me know that shewould be in the lobby at six. My eyes dart around the luxurious room, searching for her.
I immediately spot her sitting on a maroon, velvet couch with one leg crossed over the other while she sips a martini.
There’s my girl.
I have to do a double-take becauseshit. This woman never fails to make my jaw drop. She always looks so damn gorgeous, whether it’s first thing in the morning or dolled up like she is right now.
I straighten my shoulders, clear my throat, and stretch a cocky smile across my face as I stride towards her. I don’t want my emotions to appeartooobvious.
I don’t need to broadcast that I risk going into cardiac arrest every time I look at her.
She’s wearing a red, silky dress with a wide slit that runs up her right leg, revealing her smooth thigh. The dress has thin straps, showing off her feminine arms, delicate neck, and the curves of her breasts. She must be an expert with makeup because I know for a fact that I left marks from sucking and nibbling on her creamy skin.
She’s wearing her black heels again…The pair with the red bottoms that drive me fucking crazy.
Her silky, midnight-black hair is down, wisping and curling around her arms like soft waves. And because she wants to kill me, her lips are painted ruby red. Lips that I very much want to witness wrapped around my cock.
Thanks to Roxanne, I now have a love/hate relationship with the colors red and black.
“Good evening, Ms. Taylor,” I smile, extending my hand out to her.
