I stopped, even though I didn’t want to. Even though I wanted to defy him. To keep on walking, going after what I knew we both wanted. But I was powerless against him.
“You need to leave,” he ground out.
I tilted my head at him. “Do you want me?”
I’d never been so brazen in my life, but it felt good. Powerful.
His body twitched. “Of course, I fuckin’ want you. I want you so bad I can barely fuckin’ think straight. But—”
“But I’ve had an abortion, I’ve been abused by a man, found out my mother was beaten my entire life and my father almost killed her. Therefore, I couldn’t possibly be in my right mind, and therefore, it’s a villainous act to fuck me?” I finished for him.
His jaw turned hard. “Amongst other things.”
“What other things?” I slipped the strap of my dress off my shoulder.
Elden’s eyes followed it. “Like me being old enough to be your fuckin’ father.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you were fifteen,” I conceded.
His gaze was stony. “I’m too old for you. I’m a bad fuckin’ guy.” His eyes swam over me like liquid flames. “And you’re a good girl.”
I struggled to maintain my composure, to find the bravado I walked in here with.
“I am a good girl,” I agreed softly. “But I want you to make me your bad girl.”
I could tell that was the exact fucking right thing to say when something changed in the air, something changed in Elden. My whole body quivered.
I wasn’t sure what I expected when I came in here.
Well, I expected sex. I wanted sex. With every fiber of my being. I knew it would likely be good. Be the best I’ve ever had if that kiss was anything to go by. Elden emanated a surety in his gait, of his masculinity, that made it clear he was all man. And that he was great at sex.
Sure, appearances could and likely often were deceiving.
But not with him.
The sex would be good.
And I wasn’t shy regarding my sexuality. I’d been very confident about it. It had made the boys I’d dated nervous. They were taught women were meant to be shy, timid, awaiting their instruction and ignorant enough not to be disappointed if they came in less than a minute and didn’t care about the female orgasm.
A women’s ineptitude in the bedroom was fetishized because men could get away with being selfish. A woman who knew what she wanted, what she deserved was a dangerous creature.
That was something I was proud of… my confidence. But it had all but petered to nothing now that I was there. In Elden’s bedroom, where he called me a ‘good girl’ yet looked at me like I was everything he craved. Like I was a woman. His fucking woman.
My knees were shaking, and my palms were damp.
The moment hung in suspense. My future split in two. Something told me this was a pivotal moment. And it all hinged on him.
If Elden rejected me here and now, the shame would burn hot and deep. I’d take it with me, bury it and my feelings for this man away. I would avoid him. Wouldn’t try something so bold and brazen again. Likely I’d find some college boy. Maybe a few. More than a few because I’d always be searching for this feeling. The one I knew was rare, that couldn’t be replicated and was unlikely to occur twice in a lifetime.
If he didn’t reject me … I had no fucking clue what my future would entail. It would be messy, no doubt. Full of pain and heartbreak. Because there was no way this story ended without heartbreak. Yet I was here anyway, biting my lip with anxiety at the prospect of the former future.
“Take off your dress,” Elden demanded, his voice low and husky.
My teeth sank deeper into my lip, drawing blood now.
Elden’s eyes flared as he focused on my lips.
I just stared at him, unable to move.