Page 86 of Ruled By Rivalry

Eyes back on her, he pressed his lips together tightly. “Next time,” he repeated, and a second later, she was out of our apartment.

“Sorry.” He stayed in the doorway, holding his phone up. Adding, in explanation, “Rowen.”

I should tell him. About Allegra. What she said. That I was right. Oh, and that a week had passed, and she was still here every day. Whether it was for distraction or just to spend more time with Elliot didn’t really matter after the conversation we’d just had.

But if I told him, would he believe me?

If it came to it, would he put the accusation of a near stranger he wanted to sleep with (me) over the word of a woman he’d trusted for years? A woman he’d loved pretty recently? If she cried and begged, told him I was crazy and just trying to come between them . . . why wouldn’t he believe it?

Allegra was the kind to do it, that much was obvious. She’d probably been hoping I’d tell him. From the door, he was trying to figure my silence out. “What is it?”

I couldn’t risk it. Not when a single look of his forced the corners of my lips upward. When it forced me out of my seat, all the way toward him, too.

“Nothing.” I shrugged. “I’m tired.”

He poked the tip of my nose with a laugh, and the fuzzy feeling in my stomach turned from anxiety to excitement. “I wasn’t lying when I said we still have some work to do.”

“I know,” I cried. “And if you hadn’t said anything, I would’ve.” It just felt so nice, having someone else to push me. Not needing to find that motivation deep within myself, as I always had.

“I know,” he mirrored. Elliot looked at me, tucked a loose strand behind my ear, and caressed my cheek. Then, like someone flicked a switch, he threw me over his shoulder.

My squeal echoed through the small apartment, bounced off the walls of my room until, laughing, I found myself on top of my bed. Him, on top of me. Laughter dying out until it was nothing more than heavy breaths between us.

“We should—”

I held him by the collar. “We’ve got time, right?”

“Maeve Peterson,” he gasped, but let himself be pulled back on top of me. “I didn’t take you for the procrastinating type.”

I didn’t either. There was something about Elliot that made me throw reason out the window, though. The second he touched me, nothing in the world mattered more than his lips on mine and his hand between my thighs.

Not my job. Not my future.

Logically, I knew that wasn’t true. And yet I couldn’t deny the way my core tightened, my breath picked up, and my nipples perked. I’d dismissed my needs for so long that once I finally listened to them, it was hard to regain control.

I didn’t tell Elliot we should continue working on that Annual concept. I didn’t point to the sketchbook on my desk. I didn’t choose work over pleasure.

Instead, I said, “Let’s just . . . I don’t know.” My grasp tightened around his shirt. “Take five. Get to work after.”

“After.” He hummed playfully. “You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

Apparently.

“I’d love nothing more.” And as if to prove it, he breathed a kiss to my lips. “But I don’t trust myself to stop when I should.”

“Because you shouldn’t.”

“And we really have to finish those first sketches tonight,” he rolled on. Another kiss on my cheek, then chin. Neck. “Okay, well, you have to finish them. I can’t draw.”

“Elliot.” Frustration and a million other things. “I couldn’t care less about that right now.”

And I never thought I’d hear those words out of my mouth, either.

My fingers unbuttoned his shirt. One after the other until I had a perfect view of chiseled abs and a glimpse of boxer briefs.

“Fuck. You don’t know what you do to me, Maeve.” And the way he tried to suppress his groan made it worth the missed work. His next words traveled straight between my legs. “I still fuck my hand every time I think about you a little too long. It’s becoming a bit of an inconvenience.”

“So fuck m—”