Again, he struck the lighter and watched the flame. Again, he held it against his forearm. The heat felt like a blade through his skin, as the hiss and crackle of the lighter filled the bathroom. Elliott clamped his teeth together so hard it felt like the enamel might crack. He rocked back and forth, doing his damnedest to tolerate it for a fraction of a second more before he dropped his lighter and it clattered noisily into the sink.
Quickly, Elliott grabbed it, placed it in the box, and jammed the lid back on. His arm hurt like a bitch. It was red, and blistered, and sore. He stumbled back and sat down on the edge of the bath. What the fuck had Daniel survived? Elliott wasn’t even sure. But all the thoughts screaming around in his head were gone.
Silently, he cracked the bathroom door open. He could see through the walk-in to the bed where Kendalee still lay sleeping, all that glorious hair spread across his pillow instead of contained in a braid or ponytail. If he could be Daniel’s salvation, perhaps she could be his. After placing the box back in the closet, he crept down the stairs to the kitchen, where he flicked on the light. His skin felt clammy as he pulled the drawer open and pulled out a Ziploc sandwich bag. He opened the freezer and grabbed a handful of ice, dropping it inside the plastic, which he promptly sealed and applied to his arm.
What he’d done was reckless, impulsive, and stupid. He knew that. Now he’d have to look at the reminder of it until he healed. Elliott lifted the bag and saw the blistering was getting worse, not better as he’d expected with ice. This was not his life. He had a woman who was slowly but surely coming to mean more and more to him in his bed upstairs and a boy he cared about in the hospital. He had the making of a family he probably didn’t deserve but that he needed to step up for, even if they weren’t meant to be his forever.
He sat with the ice on his arm for a little while longer until the burning sensation had eased, then he emptied the ice into the sink to melt and threw the bag away. There was a medical kit in the cupboard and he took it down, reading through the tubes of ointment until he found one for burns. He applied the cream liberally and covered it with gauze and a clean bandage.
Now he had a job. To allow himself to fall in love with Kendalee, and to help Daniel. He couldn’t let his own shit get in the way. After all the stupid shit he’d pulled, after all the treatment programs he’d been forced to undertake, after all the near misses he’d had, it had taken a young boy and his mom to set him straight. And though he knew he couldn’t get there on his own, he could rely on Anne, his therapist, and Ellen and Maisey, and the rest of the band.
But would Kendalee stick around long enough for him to transform into the man he wanted to become?
* * *
By the way Elliott’s hand was lazily making its way along her thigh, Kendalee estimated she had about three seconds until he reached her butt. She was suddenly uncertain whether that was a good thing or not. Not because she didn’t want to have sex with him. Drunk or not, she’d dealt with that decision the day before when he’d helped her son, refused her advances on the grounds that she was inebriated, and held her in his arms like she was the most precious thing in the universe.
No. Now that she had his hands exactly where she wanted them, she suddenly remembered that she hadn’t had a man’s hands on her in this way for at least a year. And even then, those hands had been quick to grip her cellulite while their owner had told her she was “looking a little soggy around her rear end.”
If his hands inched higher, around her waist, they’d find her C-section scar, which she was certain was a turnoff. Adrian had always told her that watching Daniel come into the world had changed him, that the scar was a reminder of those hours he’d rather not repeat and was a huge passion killer.
These reasons and more had been thrown at her when she’d asked Adrian why he cheated. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if Elliott looked at her or thought about her the same way.
But his hand didn’t stop. It kept on its journey, skimming over her ass and around her stomach until he pulled her close to his chest and nuzzled into her hair. His breath was warm on her skin, his erection hard against her lower back.
“Tell me, Kendalee,” he said, gruffly, punctuating his words with kisses against her shoulder, “do you still want me?”
Her heart did somersaults an Olympic gymnast would be proud of. “Yes,” she whispered. His hand moved higher and cupped her breast. The contact made her gasp. “Do you still want me?”
Elliott’s thumb teased her nipple, and her stomach tightened in anticipation.
“I’m pretty sure you can feel that I do, but just in case you need more proof . . .” He rolled her over until she was on her back and he was pressed up close against her side. Elliott reached for her hand, and guided it to his . . . oh God. It was wider than anything she was used to. He pressed her fingers around his length, covering them with his own. “I may die of sleep deprivation today,” he said as he slid their joined hands up and down his erection. “I spent half the night thinking about what I would have to do to persuade you if you woke up and told me you didn’t want me.”
“I do. But you should let me go freshen up before we . . . you know . . .”
Elliott pressed his lips to her softly, in complete contrast to the action of their hands. “Two things, sweetheart. I don’t go for all that showering-before-sex bullshit. It shouldn’t be clinical or minty fresh. It should just be real, and dirty, and spontaneous. And two, the time it would take you do to that, I could be doing this.”
He let go of her hand to slide his own between her legs. Instinctively, she raised her knees. “Relax. Let me savor you,” he encouraged. His hand pressed gently over her sensitive heat as his lips covered hers again.
“It’s been a while,” she said, ending on a gasp.
Elliott raised up onto one elbow and removed his hand. “Then let me remind you just how good it can be, Kendalee.”
He pressed kisses along her jaw and to the side of her neck. It tickled, and she squirmed a little, letting go of his—
She gasped as his teeth grazed her ear.
Elliott splayed his hand across her stomach and held her still, and the pressure sent excitement screaming through her. Gently, he bit the strap of her nightgown and tugged it off her shoulder. With heavy lidded eyes, he studied her. “Did you know navy blue is my favorite color?” he asked.
Unable to resist, she threaded her hand through his hair. It was softer than she’d imagined, very thick and full. “Is the fact that it is also the color of my nightdress a coincidence?”
Elliott grinned, a perfect smile, and leaned into her hand. “Nothing I do is a coincidence.” He trailed a finger along her opposite shoulder and removed the strap. “But as much as I love that color on you, I can’t wait to see you out of it.” His hand slid under the top of the nightdress, and a rough hand cupped her breast. When he ran his thumb over her already-stiff nipple, Kendalee arched her back.
“Feel good?” Elliott asked.
Kendalee bit her bottom lip and nodded.
“Trust me, it’s going to feel even better soon.” He shifted to his knees and pulled her onto hers. Tentatively, she reached out and placed her hands on his shoulders. His skin was heated to her touch as she ran her fingers over his sculpted biceps, curious what all the tattoos meant. She shuffled a little closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, then placed her lips to his jaw. The scruff he wore bristled against her skin, but it was long enough to not hurt. When she moved to his neck, he groaned and shifted a little to the left to give her better access. Using her tongue, she traced a trail from his clavicle back to his jaw, where she sucked on his earlobe.
Elliott wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight to his chest. His erection pressed against her intimately, and she felt the urge to grind against him to relieve some of the pressure building between her thighs.
She tried to remember the last time she’d felt this turned on. Over the last couple of years, it had been incredibly rare. Sex with Adri
an—and life in general—had become predictable, mundane. In fact, she couldn’t remember when she’d last orgasmed at all, let alone gotten off with a partner.
His hands ran over her ass and squeezed it. Not once, not twice, but repeatedly repositioning his hands as if he just couldn’t get enough of her. With confident fingers, he reached for the hem of the nightdress. “May I?” he asked.
God. The moment of truth. She leaned back a little and raised her arms into the air.
Watching the trail of his own hands, Elliott studied every inch of her as he pulled the nightgown over her head. When she attempted to use her hands to cover herself a little, he took hold of them in each of his. “Don’t hide yourself from me,” he said, gruffly. “At least not when it comes to this. To us. Please.”
With more confidence than she actually felt, bolstered a little by his words, she slid her hands into the waistband of his boxer briefs and pulled them to his knees. Unable to resist, she gripped him in the palm of her hand, savoring the moment he gasped and let his head fall back.
He breathed in deeply through his nose and then snapped his eyes back to hers. “Lie down, Kendalee,” he instructed.
She did as he told her, then watched as he climbed off the bottom of the bed, stepped out of his underwear, and faced her. The sight of his naked body was her undoing. She noticed the marks on his skin again . . . but for now, nothing mattered except easing the ache between her legs and feeling his skin next to hers. Chasing the growing feeling of connection took over everything else. While it had been a long time since she’d had sex, it was even longer since she’d felt emotionally joined with someone else.
“Please don’t make me wait any longer. It’s been way too long already.”
As if waiting for her plea, he crawled onto the bed between her legs until he was hovering right over her, his weight in his hands. He lowered himself to her as if doing a push-up, his hands wide, his arms primed.
“Dear lord, Elliott. You’re—”
“Right here. Between your legs. About to press my skin to yours for the first time. Ready to crawl down this hot body of yours until I can get a taste of you. Before I make love to you for the next few hours.”
“I was going to say handsome, or ripped, or some other descriptive words.”
Elliott grinned. “I know, but I prefer my version.” He let the weight go out of his arms.
Kendalee sighed as their bodies lined up perfectly. As he sunk between her hips, as she felt her breasts press up against his chest, she groaned and threw her hands around Elliott’s shoulders to tug him closer.
“God, you feel good.” His hands sped up, sliding along her ribs, under her back to cup her butt. This time, when his lips touched her, it wasn’t easy or slow. It was faster, more desperate, and it made the ache she felt deepen. She kissed him back as if this was her last chance to make love.
Elliott began to move down her body, and she moaned when he firmly took her breast into his mouth, kneading the other with his hand.
She grabbed the back of his head, gripping his hair. “Oh . . . please,” she cried out.
Elliott lifted his head and looked at her briefly before repeating the action on her other breast. It was heavenly, and unexpected, and hot.
Along her stomach, he continued to lay a trail of kisses, briefly pressing a series of them along her scar but not making any mention of it. Perhaps he hadn’t known what it—
“Ah. Ah.” Words were impossible to recall as his mouth closed over her clit. His tongue rolled around her most sensitive parts, and she was going to die from the feel of it. Her stomach muscles tightened, and her hands fisted in Elliott’s hair. She jumped when she felt his finger sliding through her wetness, easing its way into her.
“Easy, Kendalee,” Elliott said, looking up the bed toward her, his lips wet, his eyes dark. His thumb beat a rhythm on her clit, slow and steady. “I love how sensitive you are.”
She watched as he placed his tongue back on her, knowing full well that this man was going to make her come. Everything tightened. A feeling of such intensity she could barely deal with it coursed through her.
“Elliott,” she gasped, as she writhed underneath him, riding him, searching for the elusive moment she needed.
“Do it. Come. You know you want to. And I want to taste it badly,” he said, breathlessly.
Oh, God. His words were all she needed, and the orgasm burst from her as if it had been under pressure, blocked for years. Tremors flooded her, caused her knees shake, and her thighs to tremble. “Oh, Elliott,” she cried out, and tried to block the tears from her eyes as for once she realized everything she had missed out on.
* * *
Never more grateful for all five senses, Elliott absorbed every moment of Kendalee’s orgasm, from the tempting taste of her, to the feel of her, to the sound of those sweet gasps she’d made when she came. Everything about her was fucking perfect, and as honest as he’d hoped for.
He licked her gently one more time, smiling to himself as she shuddered beneath him. Maybe it was nasty of him, but he moved to his knees with his finger still deep inside her. He wanted to see her properly as he pulled it out, but when he looked over to do just that, expecting to see an ecstatic Kendalee writhing in afterglow, he noticed her hand was over her eyes, and a single tear ran down her cheek.
“Hey,” he said, gently, taking his hands from her before climbing up the bed to pull her into his arms.
“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, as he pulled her against his chest. “It’s just . . . goddamn . . .”
Never in his life had he reduced a woman to tears. Well, not of the sad kind. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d been around crying women much at all. But he ran his hand through her hair, something he used to like when he was upset as a kid. “Did I hurt you?” he asked. Perhaps he should get her a cloth, clean her up a little. He’d been a little messy in the way he’d licked and sucked her because she’d tasted delectable. He couldn’t bear the idea that he could have injured her in some way, or fuck, worse, done something she hadn’t wanted.
Relief coursed through him when she shook her head. “No, nothing like that. I just . . . it got a little overwhelming at the end there.”
He pulled away from her a little, but smiled in relief when she slipped her leg over his thigh. “These are good tears, then?” he asked, still a little confused.
“For years, I’ve put myself second, or third, or last. I’d forgotten what such a simple . . . how good it could feel when . . . man, I suck at this.”
“How good it can feel to just let go?” Elliott brushed her hair off her face, and wiped away the tears with his thumb.
“It was more than that, Elliott,” she said, looking at him, her eyes clearer now. “You want honest? My sex life has been a nonentity for forever. I’d forgotten how good it felt to make love with someone. To feel his hands on your skin,” she said, running her hands over his shoulders.
“Well, your husband is a fuck-wit for ignoring a beautiful woman like you. What else had you forgotten?” Yeah, his voice was rough, but he was confident they were going to finish this. He was going to give her countless fucking orgasms to make up for however many years she’d gone without any kind of physical expression.
“I’d forgotten how sexy it is,” she said, edging closer to him until her mouth was a whisker away from his, “to whisper hot words against someone else’s lips.” Her hand slid between them, and she gripped his still-hard cock, squeezing it tightly. “And I’d forgotten how much fun it is to play with this.” Her hand slid between his legs as she grabbed his balls and tugged on them firmly, just how he liked. “And these.” He could feel his cock begin to leak.
Blindly, he reached out behind him until he felt the handle of his nightstand. He didn’t want to be out of her arms for another moment more, and he was going to take her right where they were lying, chest to chest, her leg over his thigh, opening her wide to him. Gratitude filled him when he immediately put his hand on a condom. He
ripped the package open with his teeth.
“What else have you missed?” he asked, reaching between them to roll the condom on.
“I’ve missed somebody wanting me. Just me. If only for a moment.”
He slid his hands around her and guided her closer to him. “I want you. I want this,” he said, lining them up and sliding into her. Fuck. It felt like nothing else he’d ever experienced.
She gasped against his lips, shivered as he entered her. Her head fell back, exposing the long line of her neck to him as he slid deeper. He pressed his mouth against her pulse, kissed the spot where he could feel her heart beating. She closed around his dick, tightened against him so firmly he could barely keep his shit together. With one slow and steady motion, he inched out of her, then slid deep back inside. Every part of her was pressed up against him. He tightened his grip on her fine ass, holding her exactly where he wanted her.
“Have I told you how much I fucking love this body of yours?” he gasped.
Kendalee placed her hands on either side of his face and forced him to look at her. “I need to hear that,” she said. In her eyes, he could see everything she was feeling. Gone was the tiredness and the frustration, replaced with such a look of longing, and lust, and need. When she kissed him this time, it was with the power of a woman who knew how to give him exactly what he wanted while taking everything she was entitled to and more. Her hips began to undulate against him as he penetrated her. It was the sexiest fucking thing to feel her ass move beneath his hands.
“Fuck. You feel incredible, Kendalee,” he murmured. Suddenly overwhelmed by all the feelings racing around inside him, he pressed his nose into the crook of her neck and focused on how perfectly the two of them fit together. She could take him deep, and he loved that. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, and she clamped herself against him. Sweat covered his body, covered them both, but the best kind of sex was never pretty.
Urgency, a need to chase the end, filled him. His body was desperate for release, but he was torn on the edge of needing it to continue and wanting to let go now.
Elliott Redeemed Page 13