I knew that, but only because people like to gossip about the Paines when they think no one is listening. Eli never talked about Abel. Not once in all the time we’ve been together. I should have recognized that as a red flag, but I had stars in my eyes for too long after we started dating. “Do you have a point for this little walk down memory lane?”
His dark eyes flare, and his lips curve in something resembling a smile before he shuts it down. “My point, sweetheart, is that Eli was never the kid who’d come at a problem head-on. I wanted something, I’d go after it with everything I had, no matter what stood in my way. Eli likes to flank the situation and attack it from the side. He always has.”
“I’m aware of how Eli works.” This isn’t making me feel any better, but then why would Abel want me to feel better? I might not have been in any kind of power when his father was killed, but I’ve been fucking the man who was for five years. Surely he blames me, at least by proxy.
Abel slowly crosses to me. “I got used to losing. You can’t win them all, and I learned something valuable every time I lost. It made me better, sharper, hungrier.” He stops in front of me. “Eli never lost. Not once he set his mind on something. He’s too damn good, spent too much time playing out scenarios in that big brain of his. He never makes a move unless he can be sure he’ll end up victorious.”
It’s the truth. Eli’s hesitance to act quickly might have driven me up the wall more times than I can count, but when he finally did make a move, it usually led to victory. “And?”
“And he just lost you. Fuck, he just realized that he lost you even before I came on the scene, all on his own failure. It’s going to fuck him up for a while, and he’s going to strike out at the cause during that time. At you.”
I stare up at him. “Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?”
“Neither. I’m stating a fact. You should have run the second you realized you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Now you’re stuck here in the bed you made, and it’s going to be messy as hell.” He shrugs. “That going to be a problem?”
Of course it’s going to be a problem. No matter how much I’d like to avoid Eli, the truth is that it’s impossible. At least for any extended period of time. Every time we end up in the same room, it’s going to be more of the same. Ugly words and uglier actions. “I have it under control.”
“Do you? Because you were coming all over his cock twenty minutes ago.”
I lift my chin. “Do you find that threatening, Abel? Even when he’s being an asshole, he makes me feel so fucking good when he’s inside me.” I know I’m tugging a tiger by the tail, but I can’t seem to help myself. I hurt. I hurt so fucking much, I can barely breathe past it, and Abel’s standing here, solid and unbreakable. He can take whatever poison I need to purge; I’m sure of it.
“What you do with him has nothing to do with us. Keep fucking him, for all I care.” He leans down until his breath ghosts over my lips. “But don’t pretend you weren’t still aching even after he was through with you.”
“I—”
He grabs my arm and spins me around, pressing my back to his chest. I’m still processing the new position when he hooks his thumb beneath the band of my jeans. It’s the slightest touch, but I jump like he’s zapped me with a live wire. His words growl in my ear. “That orgasm was just an appetizer, wasn’t it, sweetheart? You’re still feeling needy, and I have nothing but time today.”
I shouldn’t.
I might have learned a long time ago the necessity of separating sex from emotion, but Abel is too overwhelming already. I’m not certain I can keep my distance, avoid getting washed away through the sheer force of his presence.
I’m not sure I care. “I’m tired. It was a long night.”
“You’re not going to be able to sleep, not with your mind spinning out. I can help.”
My chest feels like I have a gaping hole in it. I’m all too willing to let him distract me from it, at least for a little while. I lean my head back on his shoulder and relax against him. He takes it for the invitation it is and pops the button of my jeans. The slow drag of my zipper, and then his fingers are there, dipping beneath the denim until he cups my pussy. The jeans are too tight for him to do much more than that, but it feels unforgivably possessive, as if he’s claiming me.