A tremor of victory shot through me as Eli’s expression melted into one of shock.
I’d seen through his act the moment he’d switched gears and flipped from angry to flirty. He was trying to piss me off, to make me break the terms by outright refusing.
I’d read the contract carefully and gone over every line with a fine-toothed comb. The winner had first rights to his virginity, but nowhere in the contract did it say how long I had to claim my prize.
He’d written the rules based on the assumption that the winner would be a stranger and they’d only be in contact for a single night.
I wasn’t a stranger, and I sure as fuck wasn’t setting up some deflowering road trip like the terms laid out.
Did I want to fuck him? Hell yeah, I did. Thinking about him bent over and ready for me made my dick throb. Picturing how he’d look with my dick in his mouth, imagining the sounds he’d make when I put my mouth on him, was enough to make my already hard cock ache with need.
“Fine.” He schooled his face into a neutral, almost bored look. “Then let’s do it.”
“No.”
“But you just said—”
“I’ll fuck you, but not like this.”
He rolled his eyes. “Like what?”
“Like this.” I waved a hand at him, knowing my vague answers would piss him off.
Getting a rise out of him was fun. I wasn’t ready to unpack why I thought so, but both my dick and I were fans.
“Sorry I didn’t get all pretty for you.” He smiled. At least I think it was supposed to be a smile, but it looked more like he was baring his teeth. “Guess you’ll have to close your eyes and pretend I’m someone you’re actually attracted to.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” I took a step closer to him.
“Then what?” He swallowed and looked up at me with wide eyes.
“You think I don’t want to fuck you because I don’t want you?”
“Well, yeah…”
“Newsflash, brat. Having sex with someone who hates me isn’t exactly a turn-on. If you want this to happen, then you not only have to want it, but you also have to want me.”
“That’s… that’s not how it’s supposed to work. The contract—”
I stepped right into his space so our chests were almost touching.
His big green eyes were filled with so many emotions I couldn’t pinpoint them. Confusion, anger, defeat, and something that looked a lot like anticipation flashed like lightning.
“The contract didn’t say anything about a timeline. It didn’t even say I had to claim my prize.”
“That’s… but…”
I lowered my lips so they hovered next to his ear. A spicy, citrusy scent enveloped me. The skin of his neck was so smooth and creamy.
Fuck, I wanted to mark him. To suck and bite the sensitive skin until it was red with my brand.
Jesus. What was wrong with me? I wasn’t into biting and marking. Was I?
It had to be the fighting. My adrenaline was jacked up, and my body was confused about what it liked. I needed to get the fuck out of there before I did something stupid.
“Your ass is mine, Eli,” I rasped. “Make no mistake about that. But I decide if and when I take it.”
His neck flushed, staining his skin pink.
“You keep talking like fucking me is going to be a chore. Like it’s something that needs to be done quickly so it can be over.”
He let out a little moan and tilted his head to the side.
Giving in to the overwhelming lust inside me, I trailed the tip of my nose along the column of his throat, stopping when my lips were next to his ear.
“But it won’t be a chore,” I whispered. “Not even close. We’re both going to enjoy every second of it.”
“West…”
The breathy way he said my name made my already aching balls twinge with arousal.
Fuck. I hadn’t meant to say any of this. I’d told him the truth when I’d said hate sex did nothing for me. The thought of being with someone who was only going through the motions while their mind was somewhere else had the same effect as a cold shower.
The thought of Eli under me, unresponsive and merely tolerating my touch, was an instant boner killer.
I’d already come to terms with the fact that I wanted him. I was attracted to him, and this conversation was confusing the fuck out of my dick. His attitude shouldn’t be turning me on. His anger and the way he kept trying to play me should have pissed me off. It should have made me roll my eyes and tell him to grow the fuck up.
It didn’t. Instead, it amused me.
The Eli I’d known had always kept his emotions tight to his chest, like he thought showing people what he was feeling was a weakness. This Eli was all flashing eyes and flushed cheeks. Something about seeing him letting go and unleashing all that anger and hatred at me was hot as fuck, and I had no idea why.
I didn’t like confrontation. I didn’t enjoy verbally sparring with people or having sassy back-and-forths with partners. I didn’t get into fights and couldn’t remember the last time I’d yelled at someone.
I’d long since perfected the art of pretending to listen while being dressed down by my father or teachers or whoever else felt the need to put me in my place. I was a champ at turning the other cheek and walking away whenever drama presented itself.
This situation with Eli had drama written all over it. Our history was bad enough, but this whole auction debacle was making things complicated with a capital C.
I should walk away. I needed to walk away.
“Give me your phone.”
Breathing fast, he pulled it out of his hoodie pocket.
“Unlock it.”
Jesus fuck. What was I doing?
He did, his eyes glassy and dazed.
I took the phone and put in my number, then saved myself in his contacts. I tucked the phone back into his pocket.
“The proverbial ball is in your court,” I said softly, leaning the slightest bit closer to him than was necessary. “I promise I won’t look your number up. If you want to see me again, you need to be the one to reach out. You have the power here, Eli.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing enticingly.
“I meant what I said. I won’t fuck you unless you want it. Until I’m sure you want me.”
“But you want me?” he whispered.
Moving slowly, I gently pressed my erection against his stomach.
His eyes filled with confusion and what looked like desire.
I took a step back.
He let out a little breath and crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive pose.
“I understand things between us are complicated, but I want you to know I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. An apology can’t make up for the hurt or damage my stupid mistake caused, but I am.”
He blinked, a calculating look in his eyes.
“Call or text if you need anything. Any time. I mean it. I want to try and fix things between us. And not so I can get my dick in you.”
He rolled his lips inward and pressed them into a tight line.
“I’d like it if we could eventually be friends again.”
He cut his gaze to the wall.
“Have a good rest of your evening.”
He didn’t move, and I turned and left the house.
The chill of the air seeped into my overheated skin, and I shoved my hands into my pockets as I headed down the street and toward where I’d parked my truck.
My rock-hard dick rubbed painfully against my jeans, and I discreetly angled it up to take some of the pressure off it.
I still couldn’t believe what had happened, what our conversation had devolved into.
I’d known he’d be angry, but I hadn’t anticipated his hurt and confusion when I’d told him I had no plans to claim my prize.
I’d thought he’d be relieved. Well, relieved I was giving him an out. I’d known forcing his hand and making this decision for him would piss him the fuck off. I’d assumed he’d latch onto the loophole and that would be the end of any and all talks of sex or virginities.
But the vulnerability in his eyes and the way his whole body had curled in on itself as he’d asked me why I’d bid if I didn’t want him had shaken me almost as much as what he’d said when I’d reminded him we had a past.
That kid grew up a long fucking time ago. He learned the world is a cruel place filled with horrible people and his only worth is in what he can do for others. So tell me again how I’m not a commodity? How I’m anything more than a broken mistake who isn’t worth anything to anyone.
Jesus, what had happened to him after I’d left town?
Eli had been ten the first time I’d met him. I remembered walking into homeroom on the first day of seventh grade and seeing a literal child sitting in the back corner, his head buried in a book.
At only four and a half feet tall and barely seventy-five pounds soaking wet, he’d been small for his age. Add in his disheveled blond hair, big green eyes, and cherubic face, and he’d looked horribly out of place among his older classmates.
Something about him had tugged on my heartstrings, and the urge to protect and befriend him had hit hard. It hadn’t taken long to learn he was Gray Hawthorne’s younger brother.
Gray, who’d become my biggest rival and competition before I’d fucked everything up.
