by Autumn Grey
“That feels fucking amazing,” he says with a sigh.
I smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I hear a smile in that word.
After a few minutes of driving in a steady pace, his hand moves from mine and wraps around my thigh. The touch is not as firm as his left hand, but I still feel it down to my core.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m sorry.” His voice is soft, sincere. “I hate that I can’t reach over and hold your hand or touch you whenever I want,” he says in frustration.
“I know.” I can’t even begin to imagine how it feels not having full use of your arm, wanting to do something but your arm and pain standing in your way. My fingers weave with his as he slides them to cup my knee.
He’s quiet for a few seconds, then clears his throat and asks, “So, books and music?”
The change of subject catches me off guard, but I catch up quickly. I’m grateful because I hate the weirdness and tension from before. “Yeah. Reading sets me free and music makes me soar. There’s no me without those two things. You?”
“I do enjoy reading on and off, and music always.”
My ears perk up and I grin. “Who’s your favorite author?”
“Azariah Hunter.”
“Oh.” That name doesn’t ring a bell. “Which genre does he write in?”
“Thrillers mostly.” He darts me a look. “What?”
“Nothing,” I mumble, and his brow arches up, obviously not believing me. “It’s kind of hot.”
He gives me a skeptical look. “Thrillers?”
“Reading.”
His fingers tighten on my knee. “Looks like I need to up my game then,” he winks at me. I’ve never seen him wink until now. But wow, I think he might actually control the rhythm of my heartbeats with his left eye, because one wink and I’m out of control.
Breathe, Elon.
“You look really hot when you’re wearing your reading glasses, too. Just saying.” I wink at him, biting my bottom lip.
He gives me a look that has me melting on my seat. Maybe I could convince him to ditch his plans so we can shack up somewhere and get down to business. We haven’t had sex since the first time I went to his apartment. I miss feeling him inside me, setting me on fire.
“Elon?” His concerned voice penetrates my lust-filled thoughts, and I wonder how many times he’s called my name.
I look at him, my cheeks burning at the images still flashing in my head.
The curiosity in his face melts, giving way to a wolfish smile. “You’re thinking about us. Me inside you.”
“What if I am?” I peek at him through my lashes in what I hope is a sultry look, then slide one of my hands over his toned thigh. “We could take a detour somewhere…” I trail off, letting the words hang in the air suggestively.
I feel the muscles beneath my palm tense as my fingers explore his inner thigh.
He groans low, shifting on his seat. I drop my gaze to his lap and notice the bulge already forming there.
“I’m seconds away from pulling over, hauling you onto my lap and letting you have your way with me, but we’d end up getting arrested.” His chest expands as he takes a deep breath. “It would definitely put a damper on my plans.”
We stop at an intersection and wait for the light to change.
I waggle my eyebrows playfully at him and say, “Or I could just suck you off while we wait for the lights to change. I promise I won’t bite.”
“Elon,” he warns in a hoarse voice, sending me a glare, which makes me want to climb all over him.
“What?” I ask him innocently. “You want me to bite?”
“Christ.” He lets out an exasperated breath. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Admit it. It would be a great way to die.”
He makes a noise that sounds almost like a frustrated laugh. “You don’t know the kind of power you have over me, Little Wolf. Your lips on me right now would be my undoing.”
His words leave me speechless for the next minute. I had no idea I have that kind of power over him.
I swallow hard to get rid of the dryness working its way up my throat.
“When did you know that cello was your thing?” I question, still flustered by his words and eager to move to a safer zone.
His heated gaze skims my face, a slow smirk gracing his before he turns toward the road.
He purses his lips, eyes narrowed on the road. “I’ve loved music for as long as I can remember. My father bought me my first cello when I was five,” he says fondly, his expression soft. “By the time I was seventeen, I was playing on and off in the Jacksonville Symphony alongside my father.”
I wonder what my life would have been like growing up with a father who loved me. Growing up in a family where both parents gave a shit about their children. I can’t help the feeling of envy creeping up inside me. That feeling hits me swift and sharp, causing tears to leak from my eyes.
I jerk my head to the side, watching the trees zoom by outside the window, and force myself to shake off that ugly feeling.
When I feel brave enough to face him again, I say, “He sounds like a good father.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds before he says in a wistful voice, “He was. He died of a heart attack six years ago.”
“God. I’m sorry.” I lean down to kiss his palm, feeling guilty for being envious when he lost a person he loves and that matters to him.
He shifts on his seat as if being consoled makes him uncomfortable. “So what do you want to do after school?”
“Tour Europe. Hopefully play in the London Symphony or Vienna Philharmonic.”
“Why?
“Why what?”
“Why not a symphony here in the US?” I don’t sense a challenge in that question, just curiosity.
“It’s something I’ve wanted since I can remember. At first it was a way for me to escape my past, a way to start over in a new place far away from home. One night while I was talking to Nor, she wholeheartedly agreed that I should follow my dreams. I couldn’t help but feel guilty. This girl had done so much for me and was always there for me, putting her feelings aside, as well as putting her life and dreams on hold for me and Elise. My sister who was part of my past. I couldn’t just pack up and leave and forget about her or Elise.
“My past was and is who I am. What I am. You can’t just forget the very thing that molded you and gave you strength to beat the odds. As much as the past shapes us, we can choose to let it define us or we can carve a different path and define it ourselves.”
I look up when I feel his eyes on me, wondering why the car is not moving, then look out the window and see a board with the words Jeep Trail Off-Road Park
I turn back to face him, ready to unbuckle my belt. “Are we here?” He doesn’t answer, just continues to watch me with something akin to admiration. “What? What is it?”
“You are incredible.”
“Um.. okay.”
Oh, Jesus, Elon. Is that all you could come up with? Um. . .okay? Really?
Inwardly, I roll my eyes and say, “Thank you?” like it’s a question, making me cringe.
He laughs, shaking his head.
“Thank you.” This time it comes out with more certainty. And because I’m still feeling awkward after the compliment, I say, “Oh hey. A group of us will be playing at the Women Against Violence fundraising ball on February twenty-eighth. Would you like to come?”
He squeezes my hand. “I won’t be able to.”
I lick my lips to crush the bitter taste of disappointment on my tongue.
His mouth pulls into a frown. “I am scheduled for a doctor’s appointment on the first of March in Chicago. I could move the appointment date though.”
“Is it for your arm?”
He nods. “The doctor is considering other options to try and get my arm working again, which means more tests.” He recites the words in a monotone voice, which makes me wonder if he wants to do this.
“Don’t yo
u want to explore the options?”
He grimaces, his gaze wandering out the window before he admits, “I’ve been through several tests. I just don’t want to get my hopes up and have them crushed again.” I can hear the pain, the helplessness in his voice.
I blink in surprise at his confession. I’d have never thought this strong, proud man would ever admit something that makes him vulnerable.
He exhales a long breath. “I never thought I’d be returning to Chicago so soon after—” he cuts himself off, his features hardening. A vein ticks furiously in his jaw.
Before I can open my mouth to speak, to ask him what exactly happened in Chicago even though I know bits and pieces of what transpired, he turns to look at me. Whatever emotion was there three seconds before has faded, replaced by a neutral look.
Damn it.
“I’ll move the appointment. What time does the ball begin?”
“Don’t do that, Nate,” I say, shaking my head. “You should consider meeting with your doctor. This could be the one chance you’ve been waiting for to make your arm better. I won’t even pretend to understand what you are going through. You need to go, Nate,” I implore him.
“Elon—” he starts to say, and from the look on his face, I know he’s about to argue with me. “I’m so fucking scared,” he whispers in a hoarse voice.
I lean forward and press my lips to his in a soft kiss. “Being scared is a good thing.” Nate’s dark brow goes up as he waits patiently for me to continue. “It’s how we become better fighters in life, gain more courage to try something that scares us shitless. Besides, we can only let our demons rule us for so long.”
Nate rubs his hand down his face. His tense shoulders seem to relax as he takes in a deep inhale before shifting his body to focus on me, the intensity of his gaze knocking air from my lungs. The large palm of his left hand cups my jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of my cheek.
“What is it about you that makes me want to destroy everything in my path just to have you?” His brows are pulled down in a little frown, his eyes roaming my face as if he’s trying to unlock that part of me that makes me who I am.
I’m not sure if he intended to speak those words out loud, given the lost look in his face. Like he’s in his own world, trying to figure out his thoughts. Or maybe he doesn’t want to talk about his appointment anymore.
So I lick my lips and smile. “My sense of humor?”
His gaze bears down on mine, trapping me with honesty and sincerity. “I find myself wanting to spend more time with you—”
“Nate—”
“I have never done this before,” he continues, cutting me off. “What are we doing, Elon?”
“I don’t know yet. We are at the Jeep Trail so I guess—”
“No. What are we doing?”
I know what he meant before, but I’m not ready to analyze my feelings for him that have taken root inside my heart, growing with each second.
What I want to do is enjoy this moment. No promises, no guarantees, but Nate seems to have other plans, still watching me closely, waiting.
I gnaw my bottom lip with my teeth, searching for the right words to explain how scared I am of what we are doing but want to do it anyway. So I say, “Breaking gravity.”
His eyebrows dip a little in confusion. “What?”
I stroke a thumb along his bottom lip, his square jaw, then smooth his furrowed brow. “This is new for both of us. We’re breaking rules. When I’m with you, nothing else matters. Nothing can touch me or pull me down. Not even gravity.”
“Huh.” His mouth curls on one side, the beginning of a smile, giving him a boyish look. “Breaking gravity.”
“Yep.” I grin wide. “Now, can we stop overanalyzing everything and go?”
He chuckles as we get out of the car. We head toward the registration office and once our entrance fee is sorted out, Nate guides me back to the car, a playful glint in his eyes.
“Are you ready for this?”
I glance around me, watching as people jump inside their Jeeps while others high five each other excitedly. There are posters showing vehicles teetering dangerously on rocks with only two side wheels keeping them on the ground, while others show cars rushing through bumpy trails.
“Is it safe?”
He chuckles, taking in the look of horror on my face. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“At the moment, quivering in fear. Do you do this often?”
“Not as often as I used to before this.” He jerks his chin to his right arm. “I usually take Bennett with me. Driving on those trails can get intense.”
I dart a look at the banners again, and it dawns on me. Bennett is not here. My eyes go wide as I take in his full grin. “Are you serious? I’m likely to throw us over the edge of some rock!”
He lets out a deep laugh that has my tummy tingling, and the desire to do anything he wants swells in me.
He pulls me to his side, and for the next half an hour, he explains to me what I need to know to operate the Wrangler. Then we get inside the car and attempt to put theory into practice, which I fail at miserably at first. But knowing me and the fact that I love a good challenge, I eventually get the hang of it after almost two hours of driving into rough terrains and screaming my poor heart out when we get to the rocks.
AFTER ANSWERING THE TEXT MESSAGES from Nor and Elise and letting them know I’m sleeping over at my apartment in Jacksonville, I take one last look on the hot guy lying on the bed.
My professor, my lover.
Nate.
He wasn’t feeling well, so we had to cut our off-roading trip short and head for the first bed and breakfast we could find. When we got here, he took his pain medication and laid on the bed to wait for it to work, which is why he’s fast asleep, snoring softly. He’s lying flat on his back on the bed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his right arm lying on his side, his left folded behind his head. He looks peaceful, the worry lines faded in sleep.
I head for the bathroom and close the door softly before stripping down and hopping in the shower.
Ten minutes later, I join Nate on the bed with only a towel wrapped around me. Since we didn’t have any plans of staying at a motel, we didn’t bring a change of clothes.
Nate stirs awake as soon as my head hits the pillow. He turns his head to face me.
“Feeling better?”
“Yes.” His eyes wander down my neck, his gaze darkening when they reach the little cleavage showing above the towel. “What a beautiful sight to wake up to.”
I scoot up and lie next to him, placing my head on his good shoulder. “Today was perfect. I really needed that after everything that has been going on. Thank you.”
“Yeah?” he asks, wrapping his left arm around my shoulder, pulling me up to him and meshing his lips with mine.
I nod and laugh. “I can’t even remember the last time I had so much fun, even though I literally screamed the whole time.”
His body shakes with laughter. “Damn, Little Wolf. I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire state of Florida heard you.”
I swat his chest, which only makes him laugh harder as he tucks my head under his chin.
God, I could listen to him laugh the whole day.
We sprawl on the bed in a comfortable silence. All I can hear is the rhythmic thump thump thump of his heart where my ear is pressed on his chest.
He sinks his fingers into my hair, sliding them to the back of my neck and squeezing me gently in a command.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, lifting my head from his chest to meet his gaze.
“I have been selfish and didn’t think to ask you what you expect from this. . . whatever this is.” He points at the space between us.
I touch his cheek, caressing his stubbled jaw. “This is whatever we want it to be.”
“I just want to make sure we are on the same page. I can’t offer you more than this,” he says, moving his hand on the nape of my neck. “No happily ever afte
rs. Just this. Enjoying each other’s company.”
I sigh, relieved. If he thought I was in this for an HEA, I’m about to shock him. Growing up, I dreamed that one day I’d meet a man who would sweep me off my feet and spoil me. Love me. Give me something to believe in. As much as I yearn for such a life, my past has tainted my perception of happily ever afters.
He must see the relief evident on my face. His gaze sharpens in curiosity, his head subtly arching to the side and the fingers on my neck squeezing, demanding my attention, sending shivers down my spine.
“Some women would be storming away after what I just said. But you’re still here.”
I shrug. “I am.”
“Why?”
I look at him, debating how much I should tell him. I could lie and tell him something like, “I’ve always wondered what dating my professor would be like” or “I was dying to get in your pants.” Something sassy to make this seriousness that has suddenly entered our conversation disappear.
I decide to go with the truth. “I’m not sure happily ever afters are in the cards for me. If you’d met Stephen Blake, you’d understand.”
He blows out a slow breath through his mouth, as if my answer offers him some kind of relief, but the way he’s looking at me right now makes me think otherwise. I keep asking myself why he’s here since he traveled all the way from Jacksonville to Ocala. That’s some dedication unless. . .my heart skips a beat.
No. No. I can’t afford to make assumptions.
“Why did you do this, Nate?” I finally ask the one thing that has been on my mind since he called me last night.
“What do you mean?” His warm breath tickles the hair on my temple, causing me to shiver in delight.
I lift my gaze to his. “I thought this was just, I don’t know, a lust-only arrangement?” I mutter, spellbound by the depth of the emotions swirling in his eyes.
His eyebrows dip a little, as he searches my gaze and murmurs, “I changed my mind. I wanted to spend more time with you out of bed.”