Take What You Want

Home > Other > Take What You Want > Page 8
Take What You Want Page 8

by Jeanette Grey


  Her hands on his hips dropped away instantly, only to rise up between them, shoving at his chest as she slid to stand on her own two feet. He pushed off from the door, retreating just a foot but still breathing raggedly, staring at her. Every line of her face was panic.

  And he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. Couldn’t be that cruel or force her to own up to everything. Not like this.

  He placed a finger against her lips, asking for silence as he fought to calm his racing chest. With the most even voice he could muster, he returned to the source of his anger and ground out, “My parents expect certain things of me.”

  Her mouth widened into a surprised O, and he couldn’t help running the tip of his finger along her bottom lip. Those lips that had looked so fucking sexy pursed around him in the shower the day before.

  Focus.

  He let his hand fall and tucked it into a fist at his side. “Yes, I need to have a conversation with them. But not over dinner when I’m introducing them to the girl I—” He stopped himself. What the hell had he even been about to say? He shook his head. “The girl I’m seeing. Not when I’m not prepared.”

  Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she gathered her thoughts. “I wasn’t trying to—”

  “You were pushing. And I wasn’t ready to be pushed. Especially not—” Not by you. Not when you started this stupid, stupid lie. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he walked over to his dresser, heart in his throat, and dug out the letters that had been sitting there, taunting him. He threw them on the bed and dropped himself onto the edge of the mattress beside them. When she didn’t move, he gestured toward the folded papers. “Go ahead.”

  She sat beside him, settling there gingerly, two feet of space between their bodies as she reached for the letters. As she scanned through them, he watched her from under his lids. Her expression shifted from confusion to surprise to thinly veiled excitement. His heart picked up again, but for a different reason entirely. Did she see schools in there that matched hers?

  “Holy crap, Josh.” She flipped from one sheet to the next. “You didn’t tell me you were this smart.” At the last page, her eyes flew to meet his. “Harvard med.”

  “Yup.”

  She put the letters down and leaned back on her arms. Her voice was strained as she said, “Your dad will be so proud.”

  “You see why this is complicated?”

  “I do. But this is your life.” She swallowed hard. “Believe me, I know. It’s hard to try to be who you really want to when people, like you said, expect things of you. But it’s amazing. To get what you want when you finally go for it.”

  He studied her for a moment, then rifled through the pile for the two letters that were different from the others. He pushed them toward her. “Read those a little more closely.”

  Her eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. “These aren’t for medical school.”

  “Nope. They aren’t.”

  His dad was going to kill him when he found out about the applications he’d secretly put in at half a dozen graduate chemistry programs. He’d been holding on to the secret for months now, and it lifted a burden from his chest to share this with someone. With her.

  Because even though they’d spent all this time lying—even though it had only been a few days—he felt like she knew him better than anyone.

  She scanned the pages again, her eyes lighting up, but she pressed her lips together as if to hide her smile. He wondered…

  “These are great schools, Josh. CalTech, MIT…” She paused, then admitted, “I was thinking about Boston, too.”

  Did that mean—? He dug his fingers into the comforter beneath him. “It’s a great town.”

  And he could see them there. Together. If they could just get past all this bullshit…

  She put the letters down and smiled at him, her warm hand settling on top of his. “You have to tell him.”

  “I know. I will.”

  And then I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.

  Suddenly, everything crystallized in his mind—the closest thing he’d had to a plan in ages. He’d go on this trip with his dad, only instead of grinning and bearing his way through it, avoiding talking about the only thing they needed to talk about, he’d get it all out in the open.

  He’d be the man that Ellen seemed to think he could be.

  Then he’d come back to her. He’d tell her that he’d known all along, and that her lie didn’t matter, because it had brought them together. He’d ask her to forgive him for his.

  He squeezed her hand and begged her with his eyes. “Please. Just give me a little more time.”

  Chapter Seven

  Friday

  Time. She’d been biding it for so long, and now suddenly, Ellen didn’t have enough of it.

  It was their last night. And yet everything felt like it had only just begun.

  Josh lay there on her bed, naked and supine, hard and beautiful. She ran her fingers over the dips and ridges of his chest and abdomen, down to the trail of hair that pointed lower still. His muscles flexed at the touch, a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t ask for anything more. He let her explore.

  And she did. Touching, tasting, memorizing. Straddling his thighs, she bent to run her tongue over one nipple and then the other. His skin was salty and male, and every bit of it bittersweet. She’d never felt so free with another person’s body. So cherished and so full.

  The words rose up in her again, but she pushed them down. It was getting harder every time, though. She wanted to ask him what he was doing next week and next month and this fall. Hope rose up, sharp and twisting.

  God, if he chose either Harvard Med or MIT… She’d be right across the river at Boston University. It was only a few months; wherever he was right now, they could keep in touch, or visit or…

  She forced her heart to close in on itself again. He still hadn’t even told her where he was going to school. He still thought she was a waitress. Or at least she thought he did.

  She hid her face from him as she kissed her way over his ribs, sliding one hand to curl around his hip, close enough to feel his heat.

  There had been flashes at his parents’ house the night before. Conversation had felt so restrained, and when he’d pinned her to that door, fire in his eyes, telling her that not everyone could decide to be a different person… For a second, it had felt like he was hiding something from her.

  Maybe he knew. Maybe, when she told him, he wouldn’t hate her. Maybe he’d want exactly what she did.

  More.

  She slid lower on his body, desire pooling at the sound of his groan. Slipping him into her mouth, she pursed her lips and sucked, let her tongue move over the ridge of him and to the spot just under the head where he was always most sensitive. His fingers tangled in her hair, a gentle touch full of appreciation and connection. After a few strokes, he shifted his hand down to her shoulder, dampening her movements, and in a low rasp, he spoke her name.

  “Come here?”

  She kissed his cock one last time, then released him and made her way back up. When her face was level with his, he stared up at her with that same look in his eyes that had captivated her on the very first night. He touched her cheek and curled a hand around her hip.

  “I want you,” he said.

  She reached into her bedside table and pulled out protection. Once it was on him, she rubbed herself over the hard length of him, girding her heart before asking, “Like this?”

  There were so many positions she’d never felt comfortable with, but Josh made them all feel new. He nodded and tilted his head back as she sank down, taking him inside.

  God. She felt so full.

  “You look so good like this.” His voice was strained, the lines of his throat and jaw tight with pleasure as he rocked deeper. He slid his hands up to cup her breasts, then down to rest on her hips, urging her to move with him. “I could watch you riding me all night.”

  The power of it rushed through her
, and she fell forward, arms braced, hands splayed across his chest. She wanted that—to love him like this all night. For this to never end. The sex and the companionship, the comfort she’d found with him and within herself.

  But nothing lasted forever. She ground down on him and felt the first licks of flame, the height of the precipice falling away from her.

  “That’s it, baby.” Gazing at her with an intensity that only pushed her higher, he slipped his thumb between them, touching exactly where she needed it.

  “I want—” she said, gasping.

  She wanted so much.

  “Come, sweet girl. Come all over me.”

  She closed her eyes and tensed everywhere, arching backward as the bottom fell out. She didn’t know how long or far she fell, but for an infinite moment, there was just him and her body pulsing around him, pleasure and heat and his lips at her ear, the driving force of his hips and then her name, his body shattering and releasing into her. His arms came around her, clutching her close against his chest. With her face pressed to his neck, she let herself be moved.

  Still spinning, she clung to him.

  Please don’t let this end.

  The words swelled up again, and in the aftermath of pleasure, with his body still inside hers, she couldn’t find the strength to push them down. She couldn’t find the reason to.

  He was leaving anyway. What was the worst he could do?

  She lifted up, letting him fall from her body with a lurch of emptiness that made her shiver. Moving to sit beside him, she placed her hand on his chest and looked just to the side of his eyes.

  “Josh…”

  He put his hand over hers and smiled. But there wasn’t any joy there. “I should probably go.”

  Her stomach sank. It was barely ten o’clock, and she’d been hoping he’d stay with her. That he’d sleep in her bed. “So soon?”

  His expression told her everything.

  This was it.

  “Dad wants to leave early and…” He trailed off, sitting up and not quite meeting her eyes either.

  “But—” Her resolve faltered, and she pulled her hand back. She forced herself to keep talking, though. “I was hoping we’d have time. To talk.”

  Panic skittered across his face, but he hid it with a smile. He stood and moved to the corner of her room, turning away from her as he got rid of the condom and cleaned himself up. “About?”

  Even as she ogled his backside, she pulled the sheet up to cover her hips. She curled in on herself, shivering with a sudden chill.

  “Just…you’re leaving tomorrow.”

  “I am.” He finally faced her again. He sat down on the edge of her bed and reached out, peeling her hand from her shin and holding it in his.

  “I didn’t—” She looked down and took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect more than a hookup when I picked you up in that bar. But this week, it’s been amazing.”

  “Yeah, it has.” There was something searching in his eyes. Some unspoken question. Some plea. But he let her speak.

  She wanted to fold in on herself further, to let her voice get small or trail off entirely. But she shook it off, reminding herself that that was the old her. Sitting up straighter, she finally met his gaze. “I don’t want to lose this.”

  He reached out and touched her face. “I don’t want to either.”

  She took a deep swallow. “But there are things you don’t know about me.”

  “And there are things you don’t know about me.”

  His words surprised her, and yet at the same time, they resonated. There had been those strange, uncomfortable moments when he’d pulled away or deflected. The uncomfortable looks at dinner the previous night.

  She pulled in a full breath and held on to it for a second. “Josh, I—”

  “Not tonight.” His finger was on her lips, his eyes imploring.

  “But—”

  “I’m not saying never. Just…not tonight.”

  She pushed his hand away and sat up straighter, putting inches of distance between them. “Then when? Like we just said, you’re leaving tomorrow.”

  “But I’ll be back.” He reached for her again, and reluctantly, she let him intertwine their fingers.

  “When?”

  “I can’t say exactly. But soon.” His voice was hesitant, that tone he took whenever he seemed to be thinking too carefully about what he was saying. She didn’t like it, but considering how often she did the same thing to him… He lifted her hand and kissed each of her knuckles. “You have my phone number.” He paused, opening his mouth as if about to speak, but then swallowed the words before restarting. “And we’ll find other ways to keep in touch.”

  “You promise.”

  “I promise.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently. As he pulled away, he pressed his fingers to her lips again.

  It felt like he was pushing her confession back in.

  His mouth turned up into a sad, tender smile, but his eyes had hope in them. Speaking just above a whisper, he said, “There’s plenty of time.”

  It didn’t make any sense. But after everything—after the way he’d touched her, and in spite of all she hadn’t said and didn’t know—she trusted him.

  “Okay.”

  He kissed her once more, softly on the lips, before rising and reaching for his clothes. She watched him as he covered himself. She stood and pulled on a robe, too.

  And maybe it was for the best. Their week would be what it was, untainted by memories of everything they still had to say. Maybe distance would be better for getting those things out anyway. And if he didn’t want to keep in touch…well, then their week would be preserved forever, perfect in her memory, but for that faintest shadow of regret.

  When he was dressed, he smiled and took her hand as he walked out into the front room. At the door, he took her face in his hands and gazed at her.

  “You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met, Ellen.”

  When she was with him, she felt like she was.

  She placed her hand over his and let the corner of her mouth lift up, blinking to keep her eyes dry. “You’re pretty incredible yourself, Josh.”

  “We’ll talk soon.” The promise of all the unspoken words was there in his statement, and she nodded.

  And then she held the door as he walked right out of her life.

  Hours later, she could still hear the door closing. She’d stood there, forehead pressed against the wood until the echoes of his footfalls on the stairs faded into nothingness and the exterior door out onto the street slammed shut. She’d turned around and looked at what was left.

  He’d hardly spent any time there over the course of their affair, and yet somehow, in his absence, the space she’d inhabited alone for almost two years felt emptier. She felt emptier.

  And it was that realization that finally made her wake up.

  She put down the book she’d been failing to read and stalked to the bathroom. Hands braced against the sink, she stared at herself under the harsh glare of the vanity lights. The whole point of this week had been to reinvent herself, to push her shy, wallflower tendencies away. And by God, she’d succeeded. Even at work, it had been obvious. The cook and the other servers had given her a wider berth, responding to her firm requests with an alacrity they’d never shown before. Her tips had gotten better, too.

  And Josh. Josh. She’d met him on her own terms, asked him for what she wanted and taken everything he offered.

  And she wasn’t going back now.

  She straightened her shoulders and squared her jaw. The woman in the glass reflected all the confidence she’d been trying so hard to project.

  He might be gone. But she wasn’t.

  In her room, she rooted through her closet and took all the “New Ellen” clothes and put them in the front racks. She couldn’t exactly walk around campus or go to anatomy lab in high heels and short skirts, but she could find ways to integrate the new look into the rest of her clothes. She could find a blend between the
plain and practical girl and the woman who was going to get noticed. The one who got what she wanted.

  Starting with the hot guy at the bar.

  She dropped the hanger she’d been holding and took a deep, shuddering breath.

  The new Ellen would never have let him silence her—would never have let him walk right out of her life without a plan. Even if the plan was to never see each other again. She wasn’t going to sit around for weeks on end, wondering when she’d hear from him and what he really wanted. She wasn’t going to leave what she wanted unsaid.

  Her gaze darted to the clock in the corner. It was late—much later than she’d realized. Too late to go over to his parents’ house.

  She walked right back into her closet and picked up the hanger she’d dropped, putting it away where it belonged. Running her hand over the sleeves of some of her new tops, she chewed on her lip, then plucked out something family-friendly enough but that still made her feel beautiful and confident. She hung it up at the front and headed into her room.

  He’d said they’d be leaving early. She set her alarm for even earlier, then sat on the edge of her bed.

  The new Ellen wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Chapter Eight

  Saturday

  “Josh? You almost ready?”

  Josh poked his head out of his room and hollered up the stairs, “Yeah. Just a minute.”

  He shoved the pile of clothes spread out on his bed into his duffle and zipped it up. Hefting the bag up onto his shoulder, he looked around to see if he’d forgotten anything. For the hundredth time that morning, his gaze went to the top drawer of his dresser.

  He was going to do this. He had to.

  Nodding to himself, he crossed the room and hauled the drawer open. He grabbed the letters and paged through them just once before tucking them into the side pocket of his bag. Light as they were, they seemed to double the duffle’s weight.

  “Your father’s waiting!”

  “I know, I know, I’m coming.”

  Before he could talk himself out of it, he closed the drawer and turned his back to the room. He patted the side of his bag and bounded up the stairs. His mom was standing at the top of them, and he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

 

‹ Prev