Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
I saw stars as he bottomed out inside of me, the angle intense, almost too intense. Elliot moved with expert precision, knowing my body because he’d spent months learning it. Learning me.
His grip on my hip was the perfect pressure, a finger toying with my clit enough to enhance my pleasure but not enough to make me come until he decided.
I let myself go one more time, surrendering to him, knowing I didn’t need to make a single decision. He had me.
I was safe.
For a few more minutes, at least.
Elliot was no slouch, but it didn’t last as long as it needed to. It needed to last for the rest of my life. In his head, this was just a steamy quickie, not goodbye sex. Not that Elliot would ever agree to goodbye if he knew that's what it was.
I wanted to whimper as he pulled his semi-hard cock out of me, cum trickling with it. He quickly used his shirt to clean me up.
“I’ll go get a—”
“No,” I harshly cut him off, wiping the tears from my eyes.
I pushed off the sofa, straightening my back and turning to face him, shirtless, jeans undone. There was a crease between his brow at my jarring tone.
“I’m going to New York.” I pulled my skirt back down, forcing the warmth from our coupling to run out of me like water down a drain.
I stepped back, even though leaving his embrace was about as hard as I thought gnawing through my own hand to escape chains might be.
Except Elliot wasn’t a chain. He was my anchor. To a life that wasn’t really mine. One I didn’t deserve and surely would’ve set an atomic bomb to at some point. Better to get ending it over and done with.
Elliot’s eyes narrowed. “New York?” Worry settled in the lines of his face. He understood what New York was. What waited there for me. I watched his teeth gnash together, him clench and unclench his fist.
Although Elliot didn’t outwardly resemble the alpha males in my life, and in a lot of ways he didn’t inwardly resemble them either, his knee-jerk reaction to me being in any kind of danger was to step in. Even though he would’ve been way out of his depth.
“Is that a good idea?” he asked skeptically.
I laughed bitterly. “A better idea than this.” I waved my hands between us, and Elliot’s features scrunched into a full-on scowl.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Calliope?”
I reached into my purse for my compact, opening it to touch up my makeup. And so I didn’t have to look him square in the face when I said what I had to say. Putting on the façade that I didn’t care.
“You’re dawn, and I’m midnight,” I sighed. “You care about sea turtles and recycling and planet Earth. I couldn’t give a shit about the sea turtles, certainly not recycling, and I’m sure Earth is going to burn whether we drive electric cars or whatever the fuck it is we’re supposed to do because the billionaires still use private jets, and cruise liners still slog through the oceans full of trash.” I placed my finger on the edge of my lips, wiping away a smudge of my lipstick. “I’m here to make myself richer, and to do that, I work for the billionaires ruining Earth. And though it may irk me a little, it’s not enough to stop me.” I snapped my compact closed.
Needing to press on, there was nothing to do but look at Elliot. “I will do nothing but pollute you just like those bottles I don’t recycle pollute our atmosphere.”
The words hurt coming out, but not nearly as hard as they hit the air in his house, a place that had known nothing but happiness, decimating the man who didn’t deserve any of this.
He stepped forward, pulling me to him, and I let him, gritting my teeth against the contact.
“It kind of sounds like you’re saying goodbye, and it’s scaring the shit out of me, Calliope.” His expression was grave, hands tight on my hips. “Because it’s sounding like you’re not just preparing to not only leave but not planning to come back at all.”
There was a storm in his silver eyes, but I felt at home in it. That storm was for me. The anxiety, the anger, the desperation … it was for me.
I squeezed my eyes shut so the tears wouldn’t fall, so I’d find the strength to say what I needed to. When I opened my eyes, I was relieved that they were dry, that my expression was free of any of the emotion that was ripping through my insides like jagged glass.
“I’m attached to living,” I said in an even tone. “So I'll try my level best to not let a pack of men be my end. I consider myself too narcissistic to go to New York expecting not to come back.” I drew in a deep breath. “Regardless, I will ensure that I protect my family. Yours. You.” My heart splintered. “And I’ll do that by losing my life if I must.” The plan had not been to talk about sacrifices or anything noble. It had been to be so needlessly cruel that he’d let me go without a fight.