Page 23 of Breaking Him

“Okay. Let’s go.” I planted my hand against Elijah’s hard abs and tried to guide him to leave with me. He didn’t move. “I asked Eli to come pick me up,” I lied. “Cassie’s having fun and I have a headache…so…”

James stared. “I would’ve given you a ride home.”

“I didn’t want to spoil everyone’s fun.” I gave Eli another shove. “Can you take me home now?” Finally, he dropped his chin and looked at me. He had his cap on, but I was standing right in front of him and had no trouble seeing his eyes. They were dark, searing into me in a way that made me shiver—in a very good way.

I forced a smile and waved to Cassie, pointing to Eli, so she knew I had a ride home. She frowned as well. Jesus.

“All right,” James said, expression suspicious as hell. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.” Then I was striding away, hoping like hell Elijah was following me and not still standing there shooting death glares at every male in the vicinity. The man had a light tread, and I didn’t know for sure that he was behind me until we cleared the tents and stalls and were heading into the field where everyone had parked their cars. Where the sound of the band had drifted into the distance and the chirp of crickets now filled the night.

That’s when his arm snaked around my waist, and he spun me around.

Backing me up, he pressed me against a truck, cold steel seeping through my dress, a towering giant crowding me, his body flush against mine. I was instantly turned on. “Eli…” I started.

He shook his head. “I didn’t like that. I didn’t like any of it.” His grip on my waist tightened. “You look so beautiful.” He touched my hair resting over my shoulder. “I don’t blame them for wanting you…every man there wanted you. But I didn’t like it, Abigail.” He released a rough breath. “I don’t want anyone touching you but me.”

A quiver started low in my belly. “James is just my friend. I promise that’s all we are.”

His jaw tightened, and I knew he didn’t believe me. He confirmed it when he said, “He wants you.” His hand slid down to my hip, and he gave me a gentle squeeze. “Do you want him?”

I was shaking my head before he’d finished talking. “No. He’s like a brother to me.” I placed my hand over his. “As for that sleaze Connor—”

He growled, and his hand went to my ass. “Don’t say his name. Don’t even mention that bastard to me, not with the way I’m feeling right now.”

He pulled away suddenly, grabbed my hand, and started through the cars again. When we got to his truck, he opened the door for me, and I climbed in.

As we left the fairgrounds, I didn’t ask him why he’d come, why he’d shown up, because I already knew. He’d made it damn obvious. He didn’t want anyone else touching me, couldn’t bear the thought of it.

“How long were you there?” I said into the silent cab, turning to look at him.

His nostrils flared. “I saw you dancing.” He was stiff in his seat. “Watched him pull you in close, put his hands on your waist, touch your hair.”

“Eli,” I whispered, not sure what to say, how to reassure him.

“Didn’t like the way that made me feel, darlin’. Not one goddamn bit.” His jaw was hard again. “Seeing him run his hands over your body made me want to…” He squeezed the steering wheel. “Made me want to drag you off that damn dance floor and…”

My heart was thudding like crazy in my chest. “And what? What did you want to do?”

He spun to me, fire burning from his eyes. “Punish you for making me feel that way,” he snarled. “Bend you over and punish you with my hard cock until my balls are covered in you and you know exactly who your pussy belongs to, that I am the only man with the right to touch you, hold you, comfort you. Me. Only me.”

His words sliced through me, and my nipples tightened painfully. My sex was fluttering and swollen, and so damn wet. I started to tremble with the strength of my need.

“Punish me,” I whispered into the shadowy cab.

His head shot around to face me. “You don’t mean that,” he rasped, chest pumping. He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have…I never should have said it…I…”

“Punish me,” I said again. “Please, I want you to punish me.”

“Abi…” He shook his head again, gripping the wheel tighter, so tight it groaned.

I reached out, took one of his hands off the wheel and slid closer, bringing it up under my dress. I spread my legs and placed his hand on my soaked underwear. He had no idea. No idea how much I wanted it. This was the only way I knew to get that across, to let him feel it for himself. “I mean it,” I said, voice shaky with lust. “I want it.”

He pulled his hand away, and I whimpered, desperate for him, but then he was pulling off the side of the road, taking the dirt track to the old mill. It’d closed fifteen years ago. Nothing was down here anymore, except a secluded spot in the middle of nowhere, and a lake that kids swam in during summer.

“What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly, though I thought I knew, and it turned me on so damn much it was a struggle not to put my hand down the front of my underwear and relieve the ache.

He looked at me again. “I’m going to punish you, Abigail, for letting someone touch what’s mine.”