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I pull the condom off and follow him, annoyed when the door is locked.
“Eli?”
There’s a sob, and I try the door again.
“Elliot, open this door.” I don’t know if I’m more pissed at being shut out or scared I hurt him. Equally both? “I will break this fucking door down.”
My shoulders tense, hands clenching and unclenching as I wait.
“What do you want?” Eli calls from inside, but it sounds like he’s crying.
“Open. The. Door,” I demand.
“I just need a damn minute!” he snaps. That doesn’t work for me. I just got him. I can’t lose him already. The worst-case scenarios run through my head. Eli ending whatever this is, sleeping in that fucking tub again, or sneaking back home to hide for the rest of the time he’s supposed to be in treatment. Leaving me alone once again after I know what it’s like to have him will kill me.
I pound on the door, but he opens it this time, a towel wrapped around his waist and a watery glare on his face.
I enter and don’t hesitate to get into his space.
“Did I hurt you?”
He looks away, sucking that lip between his teeth, and tapping his thumb against his thigh.
“Elliot.” I cup his face and turn his head to look at me.
“I just need a minute.” A tear streaks down his cheek, and I wipe it away with my thumb. “That was . . . intense.”
His gaze pleads with me for something, but I can’t tell what. To hold him closer? To leave him to his thoughts? I don’t know, and I hate it. He’s been alone for so fucking long and honestly, so have I.
I kiss his forehead, needing the connection, but he pushes back away from me.
“No cuddling,” he grumbles.
I lift an eyebrow at him but take a step back. “Caveat: after intense sex, cuddling is sometimes necessary, and I will make you do it if I think you’re making poor choices.”
He rolls his eyes at me and crosses his arms. “Fine.”
I grab a washcloth and clean up our sex mess from my body, then leave him to shower. Stubborn little shit. He closes the door, and I get dressed. The bed isn’t too bad, most of Eli’s cum landed on me, so I pull back the blankets and find something on TV to watch for a while.
The shower turns on, and I sigh. I don’t know what to do with him. He’s got trust issues when it comes to me, I get it, but he’s mine. For as long as I can keep him, I’m not sharing him with anyone, and this was not a one-time thing. I need him, and this time, I’m not walking away without a fight.
Once we leave this island, I don’t know how it will all work, but I’ll figure it out. He’s not going back to pretending I don’t exist.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Elliot
What the actual fuck am I doing?
Sitting on the floor of the rainfall shower, I let the hot water pound my skin while my mind replays every touch, every word Asher just said. I feel like I look like a kicked puppy that’s desperate for attention. This situation isn’t going to end well.
This is going to hurt so fucking bad.
I don’t want to hurt anymore. I’m tired of hurting. When is it my turn for happiness? Am I capable of accepting whatever this is while we’re here, then walking away unscathed when we leave? No. Not a fucking chance. I’m already too emotionally attached to him, and we’ve only had sex once.
My ass clenches at the thought. Fuck, that was amazing. I’ve never been stretched, used, like that. Never been called a good boy. My dick twitches at the reminder. Why was that so fucking hot? Normally, my hookups are into degradation, calling me a whore or a slut. It’s whatever. But praise? Jesus, that does it for me, and by the way he kept doing it, Asher fucking noticed. I came without touching my dick. My body is going to crave him even more now.
With my knees drawn up, I drop my head to my arms. I should stop this now while I still can. No more touching. Period. Friends. That’s it. Nothing more.
