Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (71)

The closed door doesn’t stop him from walking right into the bathroom with me. On any normal night, this bathroom is big enough for a small party, but today it feels cramped and sweltering. I drop my earrings on the counter and reluctantly meet his eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

“It was a long time ago. I didn’t have friends,” I say. “Feeling lonely was inevitable.”

Elias steps closer. “Do you feel lonely now?” His warm breath falls on my neck, and a quiet shiver rustles through me.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, clutching the edge of the countertop.

“That’s not an answer, Sage.”

I huff. “Why does it matter? Are you still jealous of him or something?”

“Does it look like I’m fucking jealous?” he says. “I don’t care about him. I care about you.”

There’s a hunger in his gaze that could devour me in minutes, and I know with everything in me that I should walk away. Not because I don’t want this to happen. I want it badly, even desperately. But I know if we go on, any boundaries I’m still holding on to will be crushed. Any that he doesn’t already control.

When he dips his head to the crook of my neck, my breath catches. Elias runs his nose along the side of my neck, where my pulse goes wild. My fingers might break through the marble countertop, but then his hands come to bracket mine. Caging me in.

His lips brush against my ear this time. “I’d never let you feel lonely.”

Oh God. His words. The heat thrumming off his body. My rattling heart. It all blends to send me into a mindless stupor. Like a butter knife to my softened heart. All my jokes have abandoned me, because the moment the possibility of Elias feels real, I can’t joke.

He drops a whisper of a kiss on my shoulder, and I can’t help but turn to look at him. Brown eyes flicker to my throat when I swallow.

Being near him is like an itch I can’t scratch, or a sneeze that never comes. We’ve been this close before, but I’ve never seen his gaze like this. Hungry. Longing. Molten.

I’m playing with fire, but I’m not someone who’s afraid to get burned. And damn do I want Elias Westbrook to burn me.

I push my hips into his and he groans. A deep, guttural groan. “Then show me,” I say.

That’s all it takes, because in the next moment, Elias seals his lips to mine.

The kiss isn’t soft and sweet, it’s demanding and rough, like the frustration that lined his words seconds ago. Like he’s proving something to me. Or to himself.

Warm lips find their way down my neck and to the column of my throat, where my pulse quickens. He nips the skin lightly, leaving a sting before his tongue soothes over it. I slide my hands down the front of his dress shirt. I feel too hot to be in this suffocating dress. My chest heaves, and he brings his lips down until he’s kissing the swell of my breasts. The move nukes any thought of self-control, and I push my body into his to feel his hard length pressing into my navel, just inches away from where I want him.

He hesitates but I’m impatient. I pull away to face the mirror again. “Unzip me. Please,” I plead.

Elias’s gaze appears conflicted as it crackles with lust and he presses his hips to my ass. “Tell me to stop,” he rasps.

“I don’t want to.”

He groans louder this time. “Don’t say that.” He nips my neck, and I arch into him. “Jesus. You’re killing me, Sage.”

“Then do something about it.”

It’s brave. Maybe too brave, because Elias freezes. We stay like this for so long I have no idea what he’s thinking. But then he sighs, and removes his hands from the counter.

I quickly step away, and a flicker of insecurity flashes across his features. “I’m sorry. You’re celibate, I shouldn’t have said that.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault if I wanted to.”

My face blanches.

Elias closes the space between us to cup my face, steadying my spinning thoughts. “It’s hard for me to go there after everything, and I don’t want to put that on you,” he says.

“I don’t mind,” I say way too quickly.

There’s a smile on his lips like he finds my eagerness amusing. “You’re perfect. And if there’s anybody I’d break my vow for, it’s you.”

“I would never ask you to do that.” I drop my head and notice my dress is indecently bunched around my waist and my nipples are hard. My body is doing all the asking apparently.

He exhales a heavy breath and averts his darkened gaze. “I know, and that’s sweet. But the more you talk, the more I want to bend you over this sink and taste exactly how wet you are.”

I open my mouth to suggest he do exactly that, but snap it shut. He’s celibate, Sage.

I run a hand through my hair, and my dress rides up in the process. I shove it back down, sheepishly watching him from beneath my lashes. “I want you, Elias. But I don’t know what you want me to do,” I say. “I can’t—”

“Say that again.”

I’m thrown off by the sudden demand as Elias takes a tentative step closer. Like the thread he’s desperately hanging on to just needs one good tug and it would snap.

“What?”

“Say it again, Sage,” he says with a trace of impatience.