by Aria Cole
“Elle!” Maxwell’s deep boom sounded behind me and nearly rooted me to my spot. My eyes froze on Tony’s, and with my hands trembling I begged, “Please don’t tell him where I am. Please,” I pleaded just as Maxwell’s palm gripped at my elbow and pulled me back against his chest.
“Time for you to go,” he growled at Tony before slamming the entry door and hauling me back up the stairs to my apartment. When I reached the landing, I saw the box of pizza lying in the corner on the floor where he’d dropped it to chase me down the stairs. He really did care about me. The thought warmed the chilled chambers of my heart.
“What the fuck was that about?” Maxwell yanked me into my space before I pulled from his grip and darted for the pizza box.
“I’m hungry.” I shrugged when I sauntered back in, determined to stay levelheaded. He might be my new employer, but that did not give him the right to nose around in my business. “And those are family matters.” I tossed the box on the counter and opened it then thought better when I saw the cheesy ooze had stuck across the top of the box. “You ruined my pizza!” I turned on him, prepared to read him my own mini riot act when his expression stopped me in my tracks.
“Fuck the pizza.” He looked furiously angry, raging mad, and barely containable. His fist clenched at his sides, shoulders bunched and tight with anxiety, the hard set of his shadowed jaw line and the clean cut of his dark hair, in contrast to that angry slash of scar tissue decorating his cheekbone. “I’ll take you out for a proper dinner once you tell me what the fuck is going on. No more bullshit.” He advanced a few steps, closing the space between us, his jaw twisting with anger and having that effect down low in my belly that’d only ever been born of him.
“It’s not your business; it’s under control. I’m sure Tony won’t be up here again.” I tried to make light of the subject as I pulled a hunk of cheese off the pizza and plopped it into my mouth.
“Bullshit,” he grit and advanced another step. “Sure you wanna lie to me?” His voice threaded fear through my veins.
“I’m not lying, but we only just met, I have a right—”
“Your rights mean shit to me. You are the only thing that means something, and it seems like you’ve got yourself in a little trouble. Give a man a chance to save a damsel before you get all upset.” He finished, finally reaching me, his hands connecting with my skin, running up my arms and squeezing at my biceps. Jesus, he took my breath away.
“Oo-okay,” I uttered, more flabbergasted and turned on by his nearness than anything else. “My dad has found himself in debt by some very bad men. They show up every once in a while for a shake down, but it’s not anything I can’t handle. I grew up with most of those guys anyway.”
“Loan sharks? You grew up with loan sharks? What kinda shit is your dad in?” He didn’t wait for my answer. “How much?”
“What?” I flubbed before answering. “I don’t remember the number this time. I can’t pay it, so why concern myself with it? It’s one of the reasons I left…” I turned my eyes to the window overlooking the small back alley. “I didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just took the next train out of town and this was it.” I shrugged, feeling like maybe I’d already said too much. The silence stretched long between us, his eyes narrowing before they flicked around my apartment and then crawled up my body, as if he were warring with himself over a decision that he needed to make.
“Elle?” he said, his voice taking on a tighter tone, laced with near vile. “What made you step into my library?”
Nine
Maxwell
I gripped her creamy elbows in my roughened hands, the dark to her light, the hard to her soft, as one thought played in my head on repeat. One sad fucking thought that I’d been haunted by too many times to count.
She knew who I was before she stepped into my library.
I’d thought since she was the new girl in town, I was safe, could start fresh with a clean slate and a fully stacked deck in my favor, but this evening’s revelations had upset that balance.
“What made you step into my library yesterday, Elle?” I ground through my teeth, the only conclusion obsessing my thoughts.
“I love books, and I was desperate for a job,” she uttered with a confused frown.
Could I trust her? Did I believe her? “How long were you in town before that?” I continued.
“Not even a week.”
A week, definitely enough time to hear a few things in this backwoods town where everyone knew everything and made no bones about talking about it. To anyone. Especially about the latest tragedy to rock this town’s long history.
I sighed and pushed a hand through my hair, giving it a rough tug to will myself back into the here and now. A growl escaped my chest as my racing thoughts calmed and I reminded myself that I had to give her the benefit of the doubt. I couldn’t treat everyone like a monster out to get me. That would leave me living in fear, and in some ways, it felt like I’d already been doing that for thirty-one years. “You need to eat.” I let her go.
“Actually, I’m good right here. I think it’s time you head home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her soft, quiet eyes stole a glance at mine and softened my rusted edges instantly. My body relaxed as I gazed down at her, eating up her curves and creamy skin.
Cool your shit, Maxwell. She’s a woman, not a monster. Try to be softer with her, keep in mind that she’s young, impressionable, and much more innocent than you. I sighed and ran a hand through my twisted locks again before backing away. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her. “You still need to eat.” I tossed the mangled pizza box in the trash. “And I owe you a dinner.” I bit, finding sugarcoating my words much harder than I’d anticipated. I turned when she still hadn’t replied to find her eyes wide, the white cotton of her tank stretching across full tits, leaving me hungry for her skin on mine again. My dick pounded, reminding me how much I wanted her, wanted to protect her and shield her, keep her locked up in my own upstairs room to play with as I pleased. Smother with love and books.
“Really, I’m fine, Maxwell. It’s late. I’m just going to bed—”
“The hell you are.” I advanced on her and crushed the hemline of her shirt in my palms, pulling her to me and crashing my lips down on hers. My tongue twisted and invaded her delicate mouth, the hot skin of her lips and the soft scent of her hair wafting through my senses like cotton candy on a summer day. Addictive and so, so sweet.
Her palms circled my neck, her fingers threading in my hair as she pulled, causing small licks of pain to shoot through my system and add to the raw animal instinct her body drove me to.
“You look really fucking good in that tiny tank top, but I don’t want anyone else seeing what’s mine.” I pulled away and landed a swift smack on the round curve of her ass.
“You just come in here and think—”
“Enough of the feminist bit—get dressed and let me take you somewhere nice to eat.” I softened, trying to remember that I didn’t want to run her away. A soft frown fell on her lips before her eyes drifted to her own body and back to my eyes again, before settling on my lips. I hoped she was remembering the feeling of them pressed to her body. I know I was. “Let’s get going.” I leaned in then, hovering at her ear to make sure the cool touch of my breath brushed her velvet hot skin. “I want another taste of you tonight.” I hinted at my plans for the evening. She’d better be along for the ride without giving me hell, but then again, I did like the challenge of her. I smiled to myself before spinning her towards the hallway and giving her a gentle shove, watching her sexy form sway as she retreated down the hallway to her room.
I thought about telling her to bring a change of clothes, but I thought better of it. I liked her better naked anyway.
I took her to a small cafe off Main Street that had killer steaks and burgers. That was all they did—red meat—and in this vegan-loving neck of the woods, I loved them for it. We ate at a corner booth, the two of us sidled up next to each other amidst the busy s
mall but nice dining room. Full of locals, eyes darted up when we’d walked in, casting judgment when we’d sat down. “That’s Maxwell Black,” I imagined them thinking. I probably looked older to most of them who hadn’t seen me in the four years since…then.
I pushed the anxiety aside, thinking I very well might have a phobia of public places, and clenched my hand tighter at Elle’s thigh before popping another perfectly crisped fry into my mouth.
“My age doesn’t bother you?” Her question startled me.
“Wasn’t expecting that.” I huffed and glanced at the few bodies surrounding us, hoping they hadn’t heard her. “And why would it?”
“Well, I’m younger than you…” She trailed off and her large, round eyes peered up at me.
Jesus, she was so naturally stunning—wait. Her age? “We can’t be too far apart. How old are you?”
She took a slow drink from her bottle of beer before she swallowed and spoke. “Twenty-one.”
“Twenty-one?” I seethed, nearly choking on my own swallow of beer. “You’re only twenty-one?!”
“It won’t make it any less true the more times you say it,” she teased. “How old are you anyway?”
“Geez.” I ran a palm through my locks, thinking how I’d already had my dick between her legs, tasted her on my tongue. Jesus, she’s just out of high school.
“Maxwell?” Her voice pulled me from my thoughts as I glanced at her. “How old are you?”
I sighed, the little bastard in my head telling me to lie. But I couldn't do it, not to her. “Thirty-one.”
She nodded once, twice, then smiled up at the waiter when he placed an appetizer between us.
“Anything else I can get you?” Elle was about to answer his question, a genuine smile on her face.
“Privacy,” I bellowed. The waiter’s gaze widened before he scurried away.
“You didn’t have to scare him,” Elle commented before digging into the food.
“How can you be so calm? Jesus, I nearly fucked you on my desk. Why didn’t you tell me you were only twenty-one?” I clasped her wrist in my palm, stopping her from taking another bite.
Her eyes flashed to mine before back to the food. “It’s not that far apart.” She shrugged, then popped a bite into her mouth.
“Not that far? Ten years seems pretty far to me,” I bit, never feeling so goddamn old as I did sitting next to her in all her pretty youthful glory. Jesus, she was beautiful. Why was she even here with me? The angry bastard with the nasty scar? I didn’t deserve her.
“Hey, chill out.” She plucked a bite from the plate and held it out for me. I snagged it between my teeth and chewed, never breaking eye contact. Her eyes glistened with amusement as she watched me, her full lips tipped in a Cheshire grin.
“Fine. But maybe don’t tell anyone your age for now,” I ground through my teeth before tightening my palm at her thigh again.
A soft chuckle fell from her lips. “Who would I tell? You’re my only friend.” Her palm covered mine as she threaded her fingers through mine. “What’s with the hands on me all the time thing, anyway?” Elle uttered just as she took another sip of her beer bottle. A girl who drank beer, the walking embodiment of a man’s dream come true. She was so cool, calm, and collected, I could certainly take a play or two from her book.
“Let’s them know you’re mine,” I ground, still uncomfortable with the fact that she was so much younger than me.
“Yours?” She almost spit out her beer with her chuckle. “That’s a little soon, don’t you think?”
“Not when you know,” I answered simply. The silence fell and I knew her mind was probably on fire with thoughts again. “Listen, I don’t want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you. This shows them not to fuck with my property.” I squeezed at her thigh, thinking I’d explained myself sufficiently enough.
“Your property?” Elle hummed as she pushed her half-eaten plate of food away before downing the rest of her bottle. “Your property?”
Oh shit.
“Elle!” I hollered, my thick thighs pushing the table across noisy tile when I stood hastily. “Elle!” I took long strides out the door, feeling at my neck the burn of judgment from everyone in that small place. Fuck this. This was why I didn’t go out in public.
“Goddamn it, slow down!” I boomed down the sidewalk where I saw her clutching her purse and leveling me with a glare. Jesus Christ, this woman was going to be the death of me. “Don’t run from me like that again, hear me?” I cupped her elbow and pressed her body against the cool brick of the building. “You are mine.” I ran my nose up the curve of her neck and nipped at her soft earlobe. “Even if you don’t know it yet, I can feel it,” I grit and thrust my hands into her mass of wild waves, pulling her head to mine and fucking her with my tongue. She returned the gesture, but with more ferocity than she’d ever shown before. I yanked at both of her thighs and pulled her limbs around my waist, angling her against the wall, my cock nestled right between her legs, right where he liked being.
“I’m not yours,” she uttered in protest as she nibbled at my bottom lip.
“The fuck you aren’t.” I gripped at one thigh, my other hand trailing between us to find the slick skin under her skirt and beneath her panties. “And this.” I pulled my thumb through the silky hot flame of her pussy and brought it up to my mouth, letting her arousal glisten across my full lips. “Proves you’re a liar.” I sucked her sweet honeysuckle musk off my thumb, then pulled her lips to mine again, crushing her with bruising force as I tasted her, desperate for more. Always desperate for more when it came to sweet Elle.
Ten
Elle
I followed him up the stairs to his top floor apartment with trepidation. Not because I didn’t want to be here. Oh, I wanted to be here badly, but I was terrified of what he would do next. Take me into his bedroom? Woo me with wine and candles, or push me up against the wall and growl at me? If I were being totally honest with myself, I kind of wanted both.
My eyes cast up to the viral man climbing the stairs ahead of me, the shined leather of his shoes, the crisp cut of his slacks that hugged the round globes of his muscled ass so well. The way he wore a crisp white shirt every day, tucked in neatly and opened an extra button at the collar, a classic vest completing his rogue librarian uniform. He looked every part the Renaissance man on the outside, but once he opened his mouth, rolled up his sleeves to reveal the rippled forearms, the slick hair and that scar… Where had that scar come from?
“Maxwell?” I chimed when I reached the top of the steps. He sauntered across the room and then a low lamp flicked on, illuminating the small but tidy space. It looked like a bachelor pad, lacking in that certain feminine touch.
“Can I get you a drink?” He turned, as if in answer. I shook my head, thinking it’d be better if I were clear-headed in this situation. I was drunk enough on Maxwell’s sex pheromones as it was.
“I just—maybe this is going too fast,” I said, twisting my hands together, ready for him to completely agree and show me right back down the stairs. You’re too fat, Elle. You’re not smart enough, Elle. What could he possibly see in you, Elle? You’ve never been with a man like him in your life, what are you thinking?
“Here.” He presented a glass of red wine and I suddenly was thankful he hadn’t listened to me when I’d declined.
“It’s like you're trying to get me drunk or something,” I buzzed, already feeling lightheaded.
“I am.” His voice rumbled in my ear before his hands slid up my thighs and inched my shirt up my waist.
“Maxwell,” I stumbled, choking on the wine and the anxiety crawling up my throat.
“Another word and I’ll fuck you against that glass for all of downtown to see.” He spun, showing me the window in question. My stomach swam and my knees swayed as he bent me over the arm of his couch, his palms fisting at the cheeks of my bottom, before he flipped my skirt to his gaze. The cool air of his apartment, in contrast to the hot breath at the
tops of my thighs, flooded my insides with arousal, making me desperate to feel him. His tongue, his fingers, his everything…
I bit my lip, dubious of uttering a sound for fear of his threat of fucking me in front of the window—it wasn’t even dark yet; there were still children playing in the town common. Just how would it look if the librarian was seen screwing his younger assistant?
I hummed when he ripped down my panties, leaving them twisted at my knees before his hands were kneading at the globes of my ass, his thumbs teasing dangerously close to…
Oh god, his tongue.
His tongue was there.
He lapped at my exposed entrance, engorged with need for his body, his fingers working in a quick rhythm at my clit before slowing down and swirling my juices with deft fingers. His tongue plunged in and out of my entrance as his hands continued to rub at my flesh and ease away the anxiety in massage-like strokes.
My thighs twisted and I clutched at the leather of the couch, wishing desperately that I could have him in bed the first time. See him, face to face, connect somehow more than—
“Fuck, you’re sweeter than I thought you’d be.” The rough stubble at his jaw abraded my over-sensitive nerves, his roughened fingertips that’d flicked a thousand pages on a thousand different books, the very same I’d dreamed about sitting behind the circulation desk while watching him read, were rubbing at my clit. “Oh god,” I ground as an orgasm tore through me, like a zip-line from my clit out into every nerve of my aroused body. “I could do that again.” I smiled, dazed and finally releasing my grip on the poor couch cushions.
“Oh, we’re going to.” He gripped my waist and hauled me to him, crashing his lips on mine and thrusting his arousal-sweetened tongue into my mouth, forcing me to taste myself in a way I never imagined could be such a total turn-on. Maxwell’s grip tightened on my legs as he pulled me around his waist and turned, hauling me back to the bedroom. Without flicking on the flight, I landed in a whoosh of cotton on his bed, his heavy form caging me in, never once stopping his assault on my lips.
