Page 12 of Breaking Him

Then he pushed in and slid out. His eyes on me the whole time, watching me, groaning with me when he added a second finger.

My hand slid over his heavy shoulder, up the side of his thick neck, and I fisted his hair. “Oh God. Please, Eli. Please…” My hips moved with his thrusting fingers. “I’m nearly there.” A sob burst past my lips. “Please…”

His thumb pressed down on my clit and I blew up instantly.

He pressed his fingers deep and held them there, mouth latching onto mine, rough words of encouragement rasped against my lips. “I can feel it, darlin’. You’re clutching me so tight, holding me inside. I’d stay there forever if I could, if you’d let me. I’d spend forever making you come like this, listening to your cries. So good, sweetheart. So perfect.”

I’d never heard Elijah speak like that, never imagined I ever would. He was as lost to the moment as I was, and it was glorious. We stayed like that for a long time. Elijah only sliding his fingers from my body when I’d finished gripping them. Then he did up my shorts, kissed the top of my head, and carefully lowered me to my feet.

I clung to him, not ready to let him go. We hadn’t talked about what happened, what he’d overheard, and despite what we’d just done, what he’d said in the heat of the moment, I was afraid he might change his mind about us, that he might put an end to it…

The crunch of tires on the drive outside had him stilling.

“Garrett,” he murmured. “Cassie must have sent him to check that you’re okay.” Frustration and resignation lined his features. He released me, his reluctance obvious. “You best go ease his mind.”

Of course it would be Garrett. Cassie would have sent him here as soon as she got home, afraid Eli would do something crazy after he heard what she said. My anger flared all over again. I wanted to ignore the man outside; I wanted to stay in here with Elijah, spend all day pleasing him, taking away that pain in his eyes, but I knew if I didn’t go out there and show Garrett I was fine, he’d have a lynch mob down here to string Eli up before I knew it.

I lifted on my toes and pulled him down, giving him one last kiss, then I left him and went to reassure an old friend that the gentlest, most kindhearted man I knew hadn’t hurt me.

…

I pulled the truck to a stop down the road from the bank, turned off the engine, and sat back. The street was fairly quiet, only half a dozen cars parked along this stretch, thank goodness. I wasn’t in the mood for idle chitchat. A heavy weight had settled on my chest and wasn’t budging. Dad would never have let this happen. As long as we’d lived here, he’d never had Connor Jacobson, the manager of Deep River Bank, visit our ranch, making threats about late mortgage payments. He would hate this. Not just because I could lose the ranch, but also because Connor and my dad had bad blood between them. I didn’t know what had caused it, but I knew it went back a long way, and it ran deep. Now it seemed to have extended to me. Connor would love nothing more than to take my ranch from me. I got the impression he wouldn’t be happy until he watched the rear end of my truck heading out of town for good.

I climbed out, squinting against the bright sun, straightened my skirt, and hiked my bag over my shoulder. This meeting was going to be as painful as it got. I already knew before I walked in that he’d more than likely turn me down, but I had to try. I couldn’t give up. When the rain came, things would sort themselves out. They always did. I couldn’t be the only rancher in Deep River suffering the same low cattle prices, expensive feed. I needed a small extension, just to get us through the next few months.

I shoved the door open and walked into the bank. Cool air blasted me from above. The air-conditioner working overtime, like it always was. That didn’t surprise me. Connor Jacobson always looked shiny and flushed, even in the middle of winter. His ever-present pocket square at the ready to mop up the sweat gathering on his upper lip and brow.

Suppressing a shudder, I took a seat on one of the chairs outside his office. The entire room was gray, depressing like a cloudy day, gray carpet, walls, furniture. It definitely didn’t help improve my mood.

I hadn’t told Eli where I was going this afternoon. In fact, I hadn’t talked to him. Not since I’d followed him to the barn yesterday after he’d overheard Cassie and me talking. I’d watched him from my window when he’d finished working on the tractor in the late afternoon. He’d saddled up his horse, his sleeping bag tied to it, then glanced at the house, his expression unreadable, before he’d mounted and ridden out. He did that sometimes, went out onto the ranch and slept rough.

It probably meant nothing—he’d been doing it since he started working for us a year ago—but that didn’t stop my chest from squeezing seeing him do it this time. I got it. After what happened, maybe he needed time, space. Things had gotten intense; not just with him overhearing Cassie and me but also between us. It didn’t mean I hated it any less that he kept it all bottled up inside. I was also terrified that he’d decide to end this thing we’d started. So I’d waited until I knew he was out working this morning and rushed to the truck. If he did feel that way, I wasn’t ready to hear it.

I’d seen him in my rearview mirror, watching as I tore off down the driveway.

It was cowardly. But I wasn’t sure I could deal with the possibility of him rejecting me and a meeting with the bank manager, a bank manager who hated my guts, all in one day.

“Ms. Smith.”

Connor Jacobson’s distinctive deep voice skittered over me, dragging me from my thoughts. I forced a smile and stood. “Mr. Jacobson.”

He didn’t smile back. He looked me over in a way that made me uncomfortable, setting the little alarm off in my head. The two times he’d been out to pay me a visit, throwing his threats around, I’d noticed the way he scrutinized me, the way he’d take in my grubby shorts and tank and frown. The disapproving look that would pass over his surly features. But today it was different.

“This way.”

He waited for me to follow, then closed the door behind us. His shoes made a squeaking noise when he walked around his huge desk and sat down. Wriggling his computer mouse, he clicked around a bit. “Let me take a look at your file.”

Like he didn’t already know what was in it. Jerk.

“Your payment’s late again,” he murmured. “This won’t do, Ms. Smith. Not at all.”

I squeezed the strap of my bag clutched tight in my fingers. “I just need a little longer, Connor…”

His head shot up, and he scowled.

“Ah…Mr. Jacobson.”

“You’re continually late with your payments. Since your father passed away, you seem to be getting further and further behind.” He picked up a pen and tapped it on his desk. “Have you thought about selling?”