The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(12)

She shakes her head, her shoulders dropping. “I can’t.”

“But you want to?”

“No.”

I crowd her again, and she welcomes me into her warmth. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“Elliot.”

“You’ll regret it. If you don’t go, you’ll regret it. This is an opportunity of a lifetime. And you’ve had it twice!”

“I know.”

My face draws tight with agony but not with my own pain. I know how much she wants this. “You’re going.”

“I can’t.”

“You. Can.”

I watch her throat bob, her gaze shining.

“Luce, your life won’t wait for you to be brave. You’re destined for more. You just have to take it. Before it’s too late.”

“I’m scared,” she admits on a whisper. “I rely on too many people around me.” Her wide eyes pierce through me, a desperation to make me understand. “I can’t do it on my own. New York is fucking huge. It’s never going to happen, Ell.”

I don’t say a word. We stand together, my body aligned with hers with an unnecessary closeness, one I never intended to create.

I don’t know if even I can convince her.

I don’t know if I want to convince her at all.

“It was always my dream, but I’m thirty-two soon; I can work my way up at the shop. Jean…”

I tune her out, not wanting to hear her excuses. Because that’s exactly what they are. I slip my hand into my pocket and turn on the remote. Her hand comes up and clenches my bicep, her nails digging into the skin beneath and most probably leaving a mark.

“Elliot,” she moans, and it goes straight to my dick.

“Don’t say my name like that, princess.”

“You have to stop.”

I wonder if she can feel me, the hardness taking shape in my suit pants.

“You should go to New York,” I tell her softly. “Take the internship, have some fun, be a little reckless.” I click it twice, my watchful gaze transfixed on the contours of her face. The way her lips part, her eyelids pinched and fighting to stay open. “How does it feel?”

She wets her full bottom lip with her tongue, and I follow the motion like a shrinking tide, desperate to get lost in her. “Good. It feels too good.”

“Sometimes, I wonder just how sweet you really are, Luce.”

She watches me with hooded eyes.

“I want to know what it feels like.”

“What, what feels like?” she asks, her breathing laboured as she shifts her hips.

“You.”

She drops her face to my chest. “Oh, God.”

“He isn’t going to help you.”

She raises her head as an amused smile tips up her lips.

I should have more control, but I don’t. I smooth my hands over her shoulders and push her away to stand on her own.

Backing away, I lean against the wall at the opposite end of the room, my gaze just as lust filled as hers.

“We don’t… do this,” she remarks as her eyes roll.

“We aren’t doing anything.”

She gives me a droll stare as if what I just said is untrue. “You told me in the car that it wasn’t my business. Well, tonight it is. It’s very”—click—“much”—click—“my”—click—“business.”

“Elliot.” Her hand reaches out to hold the vanity, her eyes lifting to look at me. She laughs nervously, lightness filling her eyes and replacing the heaviness in the room.

“That,” I rasp. “That is exactly what I’m talking about. Look at what happens when you let go. Let go, Luce.”

“You need to leave.” She starts to panic, but I stay rooted in place.

“Can you not come with me in the room?”

“I can. But I don’t want to.”

“Let. It. go.”

She bites down on her lip, her hips rolling. A loud moan falls from her mouth, and I grow stiff to the spot and in my pants.

“Touch yourself,” I tell her, the air in the room shifting and becoming something else entirely. We’ve never gone this far. In all the times we’ve fucked about, we’ve never been this riled. This close to crossing the line completely.

“Elliot. Leave.”

“You want me to leave? ’Cause I’ll go.” I groan as she arches her back, searching for friction that’s not there. “But is that what you want? ’Cause I don’t want to go, Luce. Not even a little bit.”

“Why are you so bad?” She huffs, her gleeful look full of arousal and hot as fuck.

“You make me bad.” I grin. “Touch yourself.”

Her hand drops without the trepidation I was expecting from her, and it shocks the shit out of me. A hiss passes my lips, and I clench my jaw to silence it.

“Talk to me.” I swallow the saliva that pools in the base of my throat.

She slips her fingers up under her skirt. “Friends don’t do this.”

“Friends don’t help one another when they need a little push?”

“I split up with my boyfriend less than twenty-four hours ago,” she reminds me.

“I’ve easily slept with three women in that time frame before.”