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There was pressure in his sternum. A scream of frustration and rage that just begged to be set free.
“I need you to back off, Violet.” Her name came out of his mouth with a foul taste.
“Where the fuck do you expect me to go? In case you missed it, we’re stuck in a box.”
Despite her words, he felt her move against him as if she tried to wiggle away. It only drew his attention to how her nipples had pebbled against his arm. And no matter how much he hated her, no matter how she ruined his life, his memories of a childhood, at the feel of those tight peaks, his mouth watered for a taste.
He rolled and snapped out a hand, finding purchase around what had to be her throat. She froze, and he leaned in.
“I can feel how much that kiss affected you, sweetheart.”
She swallowed hard against his palm.
“If I touched you between your legs, would you be as wet as I suspect you are?”
A dainty hand wrapped around his wrist holding her. Shocking the hell out of him, she said, “Probably just as much as you are hard.”
He released her quickly, pushing back but not getting very far. There was no way he’d confirm her comment, but he was disgusted with himself because it was true. He was as hard as a rock, ready to press inside her willing body. With every breath, he continued to take her scent into his lungs as if it was the best thing he’d ever smelled, and with every swallow, he continued to taste her sweet mouth. She’d moved over his lips with an unhurried skill he didn’t know he craved but wanted more of.
Disgustingly so.
A low laugh sounded.
“What?” he asked.
“You really need to relax. It’s basic biology. Nothing to hate yourself over.”
“I don’t hate myself.”
“Maybe not, but you’re really bothered by this attraction you feel toward me right now, aren’t you?”
“Just like that time in high school, when you trapped me in the hallway and leaned close.”
“What?” he asked, but he knew. He remembered that day too. He’d talked to her, cornered her in the stairwell. But he’d gotten too close. And his body had reacted instantly.
“You were hard against my stomach, Elijah. Don’t think I didn’t feel it. Don’t think I didn’t see how you wanted to kiss me even then.”
“I can’t fucking stand you, what do you think?”
A moment or two of silence ticked by, then, “Why?”
She truly sounded as if she were asking the reason, and it baffled him. After everything that had happened, she legit couldn’t be this serious.
He stared through the darkness and pictured her face before him, seeing her as he did when she was in high school. High cheekbones, wide-set dark eyes, freckles splattered across her nose and cheeks, fuller top lip than bottom designed to drive him wild. He’d struggled with everything she’d done to his family and with the way his body reacted anytime he’d been near her. Almost to a point where he’d fed his hate with the lust coursing through him.
“Do we need to reminisce about what your mother and my father did?”
She sighed, and her breath coasted over his face. “You and I both know no one controls Lucile.”
“That may be true, but then you tried to move in, too.”
What could only be referred to as shock slammed through the air for several seconds, then she laughed, her hand landing on his stomach with the movement. Her head rested against his chest and in his mind, he pictured her doubled over. She smelled of strawberries and cookies, a compelling combination that made him want to taste her again.
Fuck.
He waited, part annoyed with her, part annoyed with himself, as she quelled her laughter.
“I did no such thing, Elijah. One, your father is old enough to be my father, and two, ewe.”
