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His words from the past few minutes filtered through her head, along with memories of how he’d been in high school. Her brows drew down. “Why were you furious?” she asked, her voice low and cautious. “Earlier.”
He bit at the lobe of her ear, causing her to jump. “I’m thinking if I pull these panties aside,” he said, and pinched the seam, snapping it lightly against her sensitive skin, “I’d be able to sink inside you without hesitation. You’d be hot and wet, but tight as you wrapped around my dick, much like your legs around my hips. Wouldn’t you, Little Bird?”
“What?” she asked, her body half wishing he’d follow through, half hoping he wouldn’t. “Little Bird?”
He settled his hardness against her but didn’t move anymore. His fingers stayed along the seam. “Tell me you want it too.”
She bit her lip, indecision wracking her. But that unease still hovered. “Why were you mad?”
“Fuck,” he said and dropped his head to her shoulder, then rolled off her until he lay at her side. “You’re determined to talk this out, aren’t you?”
Irritation rose inside her. “I asked a simple question.”
“So did I.”
“You asked nothing. You said you wanted to fuck me.”
His hand closed around her throat again, and he leaned close until she felt his nose brush along her jaw. “I asked you if you’d suck me inside you with as much of a promise as your body is screaming.”
“Why were you mad?” she asked, her core clenching at his words.
“Fuck,” he said again low. Then, “because I don’t want to be doing this in here with you, but we have to if we’re going to get out.”
Her heart slammed against her chest just as her stomach rolled. Then she let the anger rise, familiar and sound, like an old friend she welcomed back home. She scoffed, the sound low and deep. “Of course you don’t want to be in this box with the trash of your past.”
“Violet, that’s not—”
“I honestly don’t know why you hate me so much,” she said, the words tearing out from her. “I realize my mother tore apart your family, but she did it, and if you ask me, your dad did it, too.”
“Vi—”
“But I did nothing other than exist, then suffer in your world. Locked in an enormous brick building for seven hours a day where you made my life hell.”
“Damn it, Violet…” His hand tightened around her neck, but she was on a roll and the words set her free, like the bird he’d called her earlier.
So she let them fly.
“I’ve never even had a boyfriend because of you. And other girls avoided me because they wanted the attention of the almighty Elijah Cunningham. Who wouldn’t?”
“Little Bird, listen to me.”
Her stomach clenched as the pain of the past rolled through her. “I didn’t get to experience a normal childhood, but I don’t blame that all on you. I take responsibility for myself. I don’t hate you for what you did. I hate you for continuing to hate me.”
“Violet,” he whispered, her words ringing out around them both. Sudden silence engulfed them like soft water of Candlewood Lake back home. She used to float atop the water, the sounds of the forest, of life, muted around her. She’d stare up at the sky, wonder where the planes high ahead had come from. Where they were heading. And she’d imagine running away herself.
She turned her face to Elijah and rested her cheek to his. His mouth remained at her ear, but he said nothing. Not that she expected him to. What could he say? Sorry? She scoffed internally. She didn’t want his apologies.
“You keep talking about wanting to fuck me, not wanting to fuck me. Your games are continuing.” She shook her head. “But it doesn’t matter because the joke is on you.” She laughed, the sound with no humor. “I’m a virgin, and there’s no way I’m giving my virginity to you in this box.”
Chapter Six
Elijah felt as if his heart had arrested. Her words both stunned him and tore him to shreds. He’d been the biggest asshole to her, wished he could take so much of it back. Wished he could do things differently. He would if he had the power to travel back in time. That young man was so full of anger and hate, decided to take it out on someone who had lesser power than he. All so he could feel like he was in control of something.
But little did he know … he had control of nothing.
“Violet,” he said and swallowed hard. “You going to let me talk now?”
She said nothing so he took that as consent and went on. He still palmed her neck, but now found himself wanting to soothe her as if she was a wild beast fighting to be set free. His thumb stroked in circles along the side. Her skin felt as soft and vulnerable as a lamb, something he could be content with touching forever.
