29. Luke

Iwoke with the stunning realization that Elijah was the little spoon.

We'd managed to switch positions in the middle of the night and I was now curved around his back with my face pressed to his neck. His limbs were relaxed, though he gripped my hand tightly, keeping me close as he slumbered. A surge of affection shot through me for this man who knew the singular pain of having a parent treat them like love was conditional. A thing to be bartered and sold—for secrets or loyalty or good grades.

It infuriated me, to realize the pain we had in common. To think of a tiny Elijah in a hospital bed with a face full of glass and a father who couldn't have cared less.

I gently kissed the back of his neck and breathed in the scent of his skin. Based on the murky light outside, it was just before dawn. Not having a phone only added to the dazed, twilight feeling in the cabin, as did waking up in a bed where we most definitely did not belong.

Through the thin curtains, I could see the effects of the storm—the ravaged trees, the broken branches. Waves were higher than usual, still frothy with rainwater. Elijah stirred and I kissed his neck again, the curve of his shoulder. Freckles dusted the skin there, as did more visible scars I hadn't noticed last night. I wondered if they were from his childhood car accident or from his job—both dangerous in their own right.

I dragged my nose through his hair and he stirred again, arching slightly against me. His breathing shifted, eyes fluttering open. And then a sleepy, almost feline smile appeared on his handsome face.

I was stunned—as usual.

Humming softly, I gave him an open mouth kiss on the side of his throat. A satisfied rumble came from the center of his chest.

"You're the little spoon," I said.

He gave a raspy grunt and pulled me flush against him. "As you wish, my liege."

I laughed into his hair. "Oh, he's got jokes in the morning now."

"I had to do this to stay warm. You hogged the blanket."

I pushed up onto my elbow in mock outrage. "I did no such thing."

Elijah half turned, blinking up at me. His hair was mussed and stubble shadowed his jaw. "I dreamed about you last night," he said, voice still rough from sleep. "We were back in the car again. It kept sinking. We couldn't get out."

I caressed my lips against his and said, "We made it out. We're safe."

He speared his fingers into my hair and closed the remaining distance. He parted his lips and moaned as I kissed him. We moved sweetly against one another, exploring, tasting. It was a sultry discovery, tongues meeting, teeth grazing. I was rock-hard, grinding against his thigh, and then he took my hand and dragged it down his stomach. He hardened as I gripped him, and I moaned at the contact.

"Like this?" I whispered, tugging him gently.

He nodded and captured my mouth again, kissing me eagerly. I stroked him slowly, an indulgent tease, as he grew more and more desperate beside me. All that harnessed control, all those tight expressions and flexing muscles, unraveled before my eyes.

He kept whispering my name, low and gruff, and I watched my hand squeeze up and down his thick cock. He was beautiful like this. Completely at my mercy, willing and open, needing me within seconds of waking. And I was fully prepared to stay like this—possibly forever—when his eyes flew open. He wrapped his fingers around mine and we jerked him together, which only had me thrusting more urgently against his thigh.

"Can I ask you something?" he panted.

"Anything." I kissed him. "You want the whole world? Done. I'll bring it to you on a silver platter."

He gave a half smile. "Will you fuck me?"

My hand faltered out of surprise. "I'll do anything you ask."

He swallowed. "I want it…I want you…but I'm"—a slightly sheepish look—"also a little out of practice."

I grinned and tugged his earlobe between my teeth. "We can go slow, sweetheart. So very, very slow."

He groaned. "Not too slow."

I swung my leg across his body and pinned his arms down. "I'll hardly move at all."

"Lucas."

I winked at him, then reached across the bed and found the lube. Coated my fingers and was grateful they weren't shaking. I stretched out alongside his body and used my leg to press open his knee, sliding my finger along the underside of his balls, his taint, and then the puckered muscle.

Elijah pulled me in for a kiss and I obliged, licking my tongue between his lips. I circled my finger lightly without penetrating, letting him get used to the feel of it. Within seconds, he was shuddering against my mouth. Gasping. He grabbed his cock and squeezed.

I pushed my finger inside. There was a brief clench of resistance and then he relaxed with a long sigh as I moved a little deeper.

"How does it feel?" I asked, forehead pressed to his.

"Good," he gasped out. "Intense. Amazing. I forgot"—a shaky laugh—"how much I love it."

"Yeah? I love it too." I gently—very gently—worked my finger in and out, addicted to the ecstasy already blossoming on his face. "How do you like it? More?"

He nodded, biting his lip. I obliged, working a second finger inside of him while his muscles stretched around me. Elijah exhaled shakily and started stroking his cock in earnest.

"Yeah, that's…that's it. Fuck, I love it."

His chest heaved with every jagged breath, and sweat dotted his temples. I kept my movements leisurely, not wanting to hurt him. But his hips were already writhing, and his harsh groans grew louder and louder in the quiet room. I was captivated, glued to my front row seat for Elijah's euphoria, the way it seemed to roll through his body until even his toes were curling in the sheets.

He yanked me down for a bruising kiss. His fingers fisted in my hair and when we parted, he growled, "I need you now."

I was so turned on by him I was practically vibrating. Could barely keep my movements restrained when this sharp need clawed through me. I managed to sit back and gently remove my fingers, keeping an eye on Elijah's body language.

"You're sure?" I asked, rolling a condom down, then coating my cock with lube. "We can stop at any time, okay?"

He pinned me with a pleading look. "Never been more sure of anything in my life."

Everything between us was different now, and it had me as elated as it did nervous. But there was no denying how I felt, crawling up Elijah's body and dropping my hips down between his legs. Like I wanted to possess this man, mark him, make him want me as desperately as I wanted him.

He hitched his knees high until they brushed against my elbows, and I nudged my cock to his hole. He held my face and whispered, "Yes," so I surged forward as carefully as I could.

He hissed through his teeth at the first inch and I waited, suspended, while he exhaled through his nose. Another nod from Elijah, and I pushed in farther, grinding my molars at the intensity of his grip. An electrifying heat set fire to my nerve endings and I groaned his name into our kiss, already lacking in finesse.

Another inch, another, until I was fully seated and rocking in and out. A bead of sweat rolled down his throat and I lapped it up with my tongue. Elijah's nails dragged down my back until his hands came to my ass. He squeezed hard, urging me on. Gave me a single ringing slap that had me grunting and speeding up.

I let out a half laugh, half moan. "Topping from the bottom, I see."

His smile was wicked. "Tell me you don't love it."

He squeezed my ass roughly again, possessively, like he owned me. And god help me, in this very moment, it felt like he did. And I would willingly hand over mind, body and soul to keep feeling this way.

"You feel so amazing, so beautiful, so perfect," I whispered at his ear. "Tell me how it feels for you, sweetheart."

He turned his head and kissed me while my hips drove between his legs. "So intense and more…more of everything. I can feel you…feel you everywhere, Luke."

"Touch yourself," I said. And he did, letting me watch as he fucked his fist while I rode him, which was when I officially lost my mind. We became one heaving, grinding mess of limbs, rocking on the bed. Elijah kept our mouths close, so I could hear every harsh growl, every curse, every time he begged. He kept squeezing me tightly, and the vulnerability on his face gave me that skydiving sensation again.

Weightless, free, falling and falling and falling.

"Come with me, please," he begged. "I'm so close."

I managed a nod, a few more rough thrusts. Elijah arched off the bed and groaned my name, and I climaxed so furiously that the room went black. I collapsed on his chest and buried my face in his neck. His arms came around to hold me, and I swore I could hear our hearts beating in time, a steady metronome that sounded something like home-home-home-home.

"That rearranged every atom in my body," I panted, still out of breath.

Elijah's soft laughter pulled a smile to my face. I nuzzled into his neck, inhaling this out-of-space-and-time moment. Trying to grab hold of something that already felt tenuous at the edges.

"You are phenomenal," he said. He turned me by the chin and stole a kiss. "That was everything I wanted."

A tiny sliver of sun peeked through the gauzy curtains. Elijah was backlit and I was astonished by his beauty—the lines around his eyes, the cut of that jaw, how adorable his auburn hair looked, messy from sleep.

I knew what I wanted to ask him next and didn't anticipate how nervous I'd feel. Butterflies the size of Montana suddenly decided to take root in my belly, so much so I was worried my voice would shake.

"Are you gonna let me take you out for some whimsy when we finally get home?" I asked lightly. "I wasn't joking about laying down in a field of wildflowers with you so we can watch some clouds."

I saw the way Elijah's face opened, the way his eyes warmed, like he was reaching for something he'd always wanted.

And then he shut those eyes, like he was in severe physical pain. "When we get back home, we can't…be together like that. At least not out in the open."

I scoffed. "What, you actually care about that contract you had me sign? Those are words on a page, Elijah. I don't care about that. I care about you."

The pain on his face deepened. "I care about you too. But those words on a page are legally binding. They directly affect my job."

"Then I'll ask for a new bodyguard," I said. The smile on my face was starting to fade and a sickly heat was rising up my neck.

Elijah pushed to sit on the edge of the bed. I noted the tight line of his shoulders, hunching toward his ears. He stood and yanked on the pair of sweatpants I'd found for him. "Luke, it's more complicated than that. I can't have a relationship with anyone that I've worked for. Past or present. It's against every bylaw and code of conduct that we have. Clients know they can trust us with their lives because we're not distracted by our emotions."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's especially impossible since I'm about to become the director of the whole agency. Foster will have my fucking head and my fucking job if this ever gets out."

My stomach pitched to the ground. "Oh. Okay. Then, uh…" I faltered. "What was everything that just happened?"

Elijah looked at me. Really looked at me. Even already naked, it stripped me bare. "This was…this was something I wanted, badly. I want you, badly. Want to be with you, I swear to god. But I don't know what to do about it?—"

A pair of headlights swept through the room and we both jumped. It was the first sign of human life since the car that rammed us into the ocean, and it had Elijah moving panther-like through the house. I heard him check the locks again. I stood, quickly disposed of the condom, then yanked on my own pants, following him into the small main room.

He stalked over to the landline and said, "I need to call the office. Jesus, they probably think we're dead."

"Blame it on me," I said, aiming for carefree. "Whatever your boss thinks…tell him I made you do it, let me take the fall. I was the one who made us drive all the way out here in a tropical storm."

He gave me a nod and dialed, then drilled his gaze into the floor. I blew out a frustrated breath and rubbed a hand through my hair. I felt shitty about all of it—I didn't want Elijah losing his job because of something we both did. But there was also a mild panic rising in my body, a sensation that I was about to lose something precious and beautiful that I'd just been lucky enough to find.

"Sir, it's Knight," Elijah said in the clipped tones he'd used when we first met. He winced, then hid it, rattling off our location. "I'm aware. … No, we're both okay. We ended up sheltering in a nearby house. … I was injured, not thinking?—"

He stopped talking. Set his focus on the ceiling while he listened to whatever his boss was saying on the other end. Finally he said, "I take full responsibility. It was shortsighted and dangerous. … Yes, I know. … Yes, sir, we'll be waiting."

Elijah ended the call with a stricken expression. He dragged both hands down his face and when his eyes met mine, they were filled with a grim determination. "Ripley and Sylvester are on their way, along with police to deal with the car. And we'll need to figure out how to contact the owners here. Apparently the team was out all night, searching for us. They saw the tire tracks, thought we'd been run off the road."

"We were run off the road," I said. "That's why we ended up here in the first place. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I have done every single possible thing wrong in this scenario," he said quietly. "Starting with lying to my team about why I was the only one escorting you on this trip."

"Why did you do that?" I asked, my heart leaping a little.

He crossed the room to stand in front of me, though we didn't touch. "I did it because I wanted to be with you, just the two of us. What happened at the senator's mansion…" He rubbed his forehead, turning slightly away from me. "What happened there shouldn't have, but I couldn't convince myself otherwise. Years of rigorous training, thousands of hours in the field, three weeks from a promotion and I stopped caring about all of it. For fuck's sake, our car ended up in the water, Luke. We could have drowned out there and it would have been my fault."

"That's bullshit," I snapped. "We're being stalked by someone who clearly isn't gonna stop until they get what they want. You can't possibly think you can control every outcome that perfectly. Violence is random, Elijah—how many times have you told me that? We can't blame ourselves for being victims. We can't blame ourselves for…for developing feelings for each other." I stepped closer to him. "This was real to me. All of it. I thought you felt the same."

Elijah dropped my gaze. Two spots of red appeared on his cheeks. "I'm not in the same position that you're in here. You're the client. You can hire and fire me."

"But I'd never do that," I said quickly.

"Really? You spent the first two weeks we knew each other threatening me with exactly that action."

I passed a hand over my eyes, felt bile rise in my throat. "I know, I know. I never should have done that and I'm still so sorry."

"No, you shouldn't have," he said, "and that's exactly why I wasn't supposed to fall for you."

I blinked, stunned by his admission. At the blazing heat in his tone, half passion and half frustration. Like he'd said last night, I wasn't supposed to want you. I wasn't supposed to give in.

"This could mean the end of my career," he added. "I don't have a billion-dollar company to fall back on or a trust fund coming my way. It's just me, and my family has relied on me ever since my piece-of-shit father walked out the door. If I don't have this in my life, I have nothing."

An awkward silence lingered after those words. And my voice sounded much too pitiful when I finally said, "You'd have me though, right? I'm not nothing."

His features drew tight. "Luke…that wasn't what I meant."

I stepped back. Dropped my hands into my hair. "This isn't a life, Elijah."

"Excuse me?" he asked, tone icy.

"It's not," I said. "It's a half life, at best. All you do is…is parcel out bits of happiness from time to time, only after you think you deserve it. You won't even let yourself smile. Obviously I don't want you to get fired. But please don't run from this. We could be together—we could figure something out—if only you'd let yourself live a little."

"Run?" He shook his head. "Luke, you've done nothing but run your entire goddamn life. You were handed an entire company, a company that could actually do some good for this place you claim to love so much, and yet you refuse to take even an iota of responsibility for it. That's running."

His words struck all the chords I'd been trying to ignore these past weeks. Harriet's gentle questions. Mía pushing back on my own hesitations—you have power too, Luke. Ethel, Clarita, my community at the Shipwreck, all of them reminding me of Cape Avalon's other history.

Deep down, I knew Elijah was right and the responsibility was real. But instead of admitting that out loud, I pushed past him and stalked toward the door.

"Luke," he called out. "You can't leave right now."

I yanked open the door. "I just…I need a second, okay?"

It slammed behind me as I stepped out onto the small patio, dropping my hands to the railing and lowering my head. Every word out of my mouth right now was wrong. Clunky and sharp and pitiful and selfish. When what I really wanted to say was to hell with your job, at least we'd have each other.

And how insulting and brutally naive was that? Elijah was right. I was the one with the trust fund, the generational job security, the total freedom to follow every wish and whim. I'd endangered his career twice—how could he trust me after this?

I'd bared my soul, my secrets, my vulnerabilities, and all that had done was guarantee he'd see the worst version of me.

The churning worries ricocheting through my thoughts were almost certainly why I didn't hear anyone approach. But then a board creaked. And a bag was jammed over my head before I could even scream Elijah's name.