I refused to think about that though, because I was having fun, and I wanted to play some more. No reason to let rational thought ruin the night.
15/
fallyn
Somewhere between the hotel suite and the parking garage underneath, Elliot lost his mask—the physical one. The metaphorical one seemed to have slipped earlier in the evening.
Not that I was complaining. Or maybe a little. Because this Elliot—drunk, flushed, and with an easy smile and seductive praise—was far more dangerous to me than the stoic asshole. With Jerk-Elliot, I could see myself getting addicted to the sex, which would fade once I was back home with my vibrator collection. With Drunk-Elliot, I could fall for a lot more than the way he used his dick.
Look at me, I’d discovered an all-new kind of red flag covered guy to add to my list. I hadn’t been drinking, but that didn’t mean my judgment was worthwhile when it came to him.
All of those thoughts raced through my head as he and I and Link approached Elliot’s car. What came out of my mouth was, “Are you sure you should be driving?”
“If you want to drive my car, Fallyn, just ask.” He held up the keys and the jangle was loud against the concrete around us. The way he said my name, the derision was gone. He almost made it sound flirty or sexy.
Or I was projecting my desires. “It’s not that. I—”
“I’m kidding.” Elliot gripped my wrist and pressed the keys into my palm. Before I could close my fingers around them, he yanked them back. “Wait. You can drive a stick?”
“Literally, or is this a sex question?” I asked.
Elliot and Link snorted with laughter. “Literally,” Elliot said. “Assure me you’re not going to grind the gears on my baby.”
“Literally, or is that a sex question,” I repeated the teasing question.
Both men laughed harder.
Too adorable. “I will drive your car like I have to present it to the president of the world in perfect condition when I reach our destination.”
“Why the president of the world?” Link’s question was muffled by the high collar on his costume. He growled in frustration, which made me think even more of a teddy bear, and tugged the fabric open. “Better.” He let out a loud sigh.
Elliot snorted. “Because the president of the world has the meanest prisons if you fuck up.”
Not quite the way I would’ve phrased it. “Close enough.”
We piled into the car, with Link in the front passenger seat and Elliot in back, but leaning forward between the front bucket seats.
Elliot had enough presence of mind to give me directions out of the parking garage—there were multiple exits and he was specific about which one I wanted to take—and get us on the roads toward his house. I was glad he could navigate drunk.
When we were on a main road and heading south, I relaxed a little and tried to appreciate driving such a gorgeous vehicle, with two sexy men sitting next to me, and Elliot’s hot breath on my face every few seconds.
“Link told you about his past?” Elliot’s question came out of nowhere.
“Yes.” And it had been on my mind a lot since. Knowing that he’d learned those kinds of lessons from his past, that he’d grown and changed in the direction he had, and that he’d earned his kind demeanor, made him that much more alluring.
Elliot pointed me down another street. “So he told you how I was his hero?”
Excuse him?
“No,” Link said.
“Good.” Elliot was the kind of smug reserved for confidence brought on by liquor. “Then I get to tell my story first.” He leaned away from me, bouncing off Link before returning to the center. “Tell her about the hotel we were in tonight.”
Tangent, much? Up until now, Elliot struck me as focused and single-minded. He got something in his head and didn’t let go. Jumping from topic to topic was an odd shift for him, but I didn’t mind. “What about the hotel?”
“It’s got his name on it,” Link said.
“Did you carveElliotsomewhere?”