20

 

I'd never been to Elliot Gold’s house on Goldryn Row, but I could have been heading towards Disney World and it wouldn’t have made a difference. I'd slotted away my pain, the same way that I did when I prepared for Mama’s fists. I numbed myself after my outburst at Elliot in the ICU.

Elliot stopped off at Sonic on the 603 and picked up a milkshake and a burger. I hadn’t had Sonic since my Pop was alive. The memory assaulted me and tears leaked out without a sound.

I got the Holiday mint, because December had snuck on me without warning. Elliot got banana cream pie. I didn’t know what that said about his personality.

I had always wanted to be one of those skating ladies when I was a little girl.

“You gotta tell me what about your Mama, Harry.” Elliot said as I watched my milkshake like it had the answers to the universe. “I’m going crazy here.”

I slurped the straw and almost wished that we had pulled up outside of my apartment block because it meant that I would have been able to run away from the conversation. Elliot got out of the car and walked around to my side to help me out of the vehicle.

My ballet flats crunched against the gravel; he didn’t let go of my hand as we walked towards the ostentatious manor house.

Elliot Gold's home on the row looked like a baby version of the Goldryn Manor. White with Roman pillars on the doorway, huge windows and an expansive and perfectly manicured lawn.

Instead of walking up the marble steps to the front door, Elliot pulled me down a hidden path. Swathed in darkness, and cocooned by a willow tree.

The door at the side led directly into the kitchen, with shiny granite worktops, ivory cabinets and olive green appliances. It looked like a showroom.

Elliot pulled out a barstool and deposited me in the seat. He cupped my cheek. His ice blue eyes searched mine for something but I didn’t know what. His expression was uncharacteristically tender.

“I need to know what we are.” I said, my voice hoarse. “Because I need to trust you not to hurt me again.”

Elliot stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my body, pulling me close.

“It's only you, Harry. There’s no one else.”

Elliot pulled back but he seemed reluctant to do so. “You want a drink? Vodka cranberry? Bourbon? Shot of tequila?” he walked over to the cabinet above the fridge and brought out a bottle of brown liquid as he asked.

I shook my head but thanked him for the offer.

“You don’t drink much, do you?” He asked. “Although you did go through quite a bit of champagne at the Masquerade.”

I cleared my throat. “That’s probably a good way to start off this conversation.”

Elliot poured himself a drink but did not sit. He leant against the counter and watched me as I organised my thoughts.

“Do you remember when Darrell Thompson killed himself?” I asked.

“Everyone heard when the sheriff died.” Elliot said thoughtfully. “That must have been tough.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat that threatened to suffocate me. “He put his shotgun in his mouth. Right in front of me. I was ten.” My voice drained of emotion and I focused on the mole between my thumb and forefinger to help relay the story without falling under. “It was just... Chunks... On the wall. The back of his head was gone.”

“Jesus Christ, Harry.”

“We didn’t live in a trailer then. We had a house. A dog. I had friends at school. Then overnight, Mama moved us into the trailer. She drank, Elliot. Hard.”

I took a deep breath and paused. He put down his whisky and pushed it away as if reading my mind.

“I was eleven when social services first came around. The school saw some of the bruises, but Mama was good. She stopped hitting me in visible places, kept it below the neck. After time, no one gave a fuck anymore.”

I closed my eyes and pressed the heel of my hand into the sockets. Focusing on the dancing lights behind my eyelids as I continued to speak.

“Mama went through money quickly. The police department wouldn’t pay off his life insurance because it was suicide. Gilly started bringing her boyfriends round when I was about twelve. I didn’t have a lock on my door then. They'd bring her booze. Sometimes coke. They'd be out of their minds. I'd stay out of the way.”

“I was hungry every fucking day, Elliot.” I whispered. “I wanted to escape so bad, but I couldn’t even apply to college. For years, I was saving my money. I was going to leave this town and set up shop in Baton Rouge. But Mama took that money and I had nothing.”

Elliot rubbed the back of his neck. His jaw ticked in anger. “That bruise? Back in the diner when I first saw you? That was her?”

I nodded. “My Mama is volatile. Irrational. Sometimes.”

He cleared his throat. “You said... The boyfriends.”

“I was twelve when Mama started dating Garrett. I say dating, but he'd buy her liquor and they'd fuck on the couch so I’d see when I came home from school.” I shivered. “He was the first. Mama used to laugh when he'd grab my butt and make comments. Garrett came to my room one night. Slipped under the covers...”

My hand was shaking so much that I placed it between my legs. I closed my eyes again and shook my head to tell Elliot I was done.

“Where is he now?” Elliot snarled. I flinched at his display. Raw anger and spittle.

“He touched... But he didn’t...” I winced as I explained.

Elliot reached my side and pulled me to him. Stroking, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, baby. I'm so angry at your mother right now. If someone hadn’t already hit her with their car, I’d get in my Porsche and roll over her twice.”

I bit back a smile, but it was weak.

“Even if the tests come back and you could give her a piece of your liver. You don’t have to do it.” Elliot clutched me tighter.

“She’s my mother.” I told him.

“That woman ain't no mother.” Elliot urged. His southern twang came out when he was angry. I filed the fact away for a rainy day.

“If I knew I wouldn’t get arrested for arson, I’d light my Mama’s trailer up like the fourth of July. Not whilst she was in it, but I’d burn that rust bucket to the ground.” I said with a shrug. Masking my inner pain with humour. I'd long since locked away my emotions when it came to the abuse.

Elliot couldn’t help the shocked laugh that escaped his mouth. “My little arsonist.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and dipped me low. His lips brushed against my own as he righted me. My head swam from his touch.

 

 

Genesis, the club downtown, had a line about a mile long. Elliot and I pulled up, and he tossed his keys to the valet. Just like they did in the movies. We didn’t have to wait in line like the other folk. Elliot had booked out the club for his little brother Nate's birthday.

I didn’t know Nate Gold too well. We weren’t at Goldryn High at the same time, but everyone knew what he'd done to Gwen Bell at the graduation ceremony ten years prior.

Even thinking about it made me shiver.

There were tons of people that I didn’t recognise. All sorts of coloured hair and tattoos on show. Rina was at the bar on the other side of the dance floor; and, I felt Elliot’s shoulders relax when she waved us both over. It was quite amusing that he shied away from groups of people just as much as I did.

I didn’t know if it was a new development or not, so I didn’t know whether to worry about him or not.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Rina gushed as she wrapped her arms around me. “I couldn’t exactly ask Gwen to come.”

I rolled my lip in my bottom teeth. “She’d come if she could put ex-lax in Nate's cake.” I mused.

Someone laughed behind me and I moved to the side as Nate came over and kissed his Rina on the cheek. He ordered a beer and turned back to us.

“Sticky wouldn’t dare.” Nate said, his eyes flashed.

It was Elliot’s turn to laugh. “I don’t know why she hasn’t gotten revenge. Maybe she should take that stick out of her ass and beat you with it.”

I slapped Elliot on the chest. “Lay off, Gwen Bell.”

Nate cleared his throat and turned to Rina. “You saw Julian?”

Rina shrugged with a smile but it was fake. “I saw him go into the bathroom.”

I heard the unsaid words. He'd gone into the stalls with someone that wasn't his fiancée. I wanted to slap Julian Gold in his pretty mouth.

“Calm down, love.” Elliot rubbed my back, “You’re growling.”

“You should go get Julian.” I suggested.

“It’s okay, Harry.” Rina took a sip of a drink. “I arrived after he did. He doesn’t know I’m here.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” I said.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Rina slammed her drink on the bar and walked away, weaving through the crowd without looking back.

“What was all that about?” Nate asked, as his eyes trailed after his sister-in-law.

“Nothin’,” Elliot gave me a look that told me to stop talking.

Nate shrugged. “How’s the Mall on 603 coming along?” He asked Elliot.

“It's coming.” The iceman grunted.

“Goddamn, brother.” Nate laughed and clapped him on the back. Nate turned to me and jabbed a finger over his shoulder at Elliot. “Does your man ever shut up?” He joked.

I stifled a giggle. The two boys started talking about business and Nate asked about opening up a new location on the strip, I zoned out and looked around the crowd.

I nudged Elliot when a woman with bright green hair and a leather corset walked past, studying at me like I belonged in a zoo.

“Everyone is staring at me.” I tried to say the words like I wasn’t bothered, but I found myself pulling at the hem of my skirt nervously.

Elliot looked around and caught the eye of a few of the dancers. His eyes widened in realisation. “They’re looking at you, love.” He cupped my jaw. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are.” He mused.

 

 

His thumb brushed against my bottom lip.

“Everyone was looking at you tonight. Did you like that?” He asked in a low tone, saturated with lust. “Like knowing that they couldn’t touch you, because you’re mine?” I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and dragged his lips back to mine.

His kiss was smooth. Confident. The same way that Elliot was. His hand sprayed against my stomach, raising the hem of my plain t-shirt and making my core twitch with the tingling contact of his skin on mine. He walked us back until my butt hit the kitchen island and I couldn’t have escaped if I wanted to.

“You amaze me.” Elliot broke his kiss only to trail a path from behind my ear to the hollow of my throat. His hand slipped into the waistband of my jeans. He brushed his fingers down the front of my mound and parted my slick lips as he sought my heat.

The tip of his finger brushed my outside but never penetrated. I moaned, low in my throat. “Please.” I begged.

“Do you want more, my love?”

“Yessssss.”

His finger thrust inside of me, and I felt myself clench around him. He pumped inside of me. Once. Twice. My hips rocked against his hand and another finger slipped inside.

I felt the low throb of my clit as it rubbed against his palm. The coiling tingle of my orgasm as it tightened. I could smell his skin. Like peppermint and spiced musk.

I placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. My impending orgasm had claimed my balance and coordination.

“Come for me.” He whispered as his thump twisted around my clitoris but never truly touched it. My body crumbled like a marionette with broken strings. His name was an echo, over and over it left my lips like I was praying to him.

Elliot Gold. God of Orgasms.

His mouth found mine again as he devoured the whimpers that accompanied my aftershocks.

“More.” I whispered, reached down between us, I fumbled with his zipper. Strained tight against his erection. His cock sprung free. A heavyweight in my hands.

“You're not wearing underwear.” I whispered in awe. Elliot growled, low in his throat as my fingers slid reverently over his silky skin. Elliot pulled down my jeans and lifted me and placed me on the counter. He settled between my legs and I felt the head of his cock against the thin fabric of my underwear.

Anticipation pulsated through my veins. His blue eyes burned into mine. Never leaving them as he gripped my lace underwear and pulled it taut. The fabric bunched and rubbed against my sensitive clit as I moaned and squirmed to escape. Moving my underwear to the side, he plunged inside me. Dipping. Teasing as first as if to test the waters. I pleaded for more. My hands reached around to clasp at his muscular ass as he only gave enough of his cock to make me beg for more. He tugged the stretched and abused fabric of my underwear, using it to stimulate me outside, just as his cock moved inside of me.

My eyes rolled back and the wet sounds of my body meeting his was almost too much to bear.

Elliot leant forward until his body almost covered mine, plunging to the hilt in the process. The sharp sting of pleasure as his cock hit my cervix made my stomach churn with the beginnings of an orgasm so powerful that my teeth began to chatter.

Elliot gripped the inside of my knee and raised my leg until it rested over his shoulder, hitting a new angle that sent me over the edge. Stars blinded me and I felt him expand inside of me. I felt it as he came inside of me. Our juices ran together and if anything made me want him again. Immediately.

Our tongues tangled in a slow and lingering dance. Our muscles uncoiled as if we were in perfect sync. Drifting from adrenaline and hard fucking to the warm blanket of post-coital bliss.

Our arms gripped at each other as if we would float away if we didn’t.

I started to fall asleep in his arms. I heard Elliot whisper something, but I couldn’t have been sure what it was.

 

 

I was so tired that I fell asleep with Elliot's arms around me, wrapped in his sheet and his large warm body.

I didn’t want to open my eyes. I felt his chest against my back. His deep and even breaths. I wiggled my hips and his fingers tightened their grip around my waist. My bladder ached and I wanted to slip away and go to the bathroom without waking him up. Elliot was like a koala.

I grunted as I tried to heave myself off of his bed, unable to contain my laughter.

“Get. Off. You. Lump.” I huffed. Elliot's answer was a rumbling laugh that vibrated against my chest. His voice was masculine on a good day, but husky in the morning? It was deep enough to make my knees quiver.

He released me and propped himself up on his elbow. “Trying to escape?” He crooked a brow.

I shook my head. “I need to pee.”

He waved his hand towards the en-suite. “Have at it.”

I slipped away to do my business, and stole a swig of his mouthwash to freshen up my morning breath. When I came back, Elliot laid with his arms behind his head and the sheet had slipped down to his waist. His morning wood was proudly displayed.

I licked my lips.

“Now that’s worrying.” Elliot joked. “You’re looking at me like I'm breakfast.”

I shook my head to clear it and settled back onto the bed. “Sorry.”

Elliot must have seen something in my expression that told me that I wasn’t in the mood for sex. My mind was weighed down with Mama’s accident, the wait for the organ compatibility tests and Sarah Mallory's bitchy attack a few days ago.

“Not really.” My stomach churned and ice shot through my veins. “It’s in the past.”

“But it's not.” He argued. “You need to talk to someone.”

“I talked to you.”

“A professional.” He replied.

I shrugged, to mask my anger and hurt. Elliot watched my clenched fists but his expression was impassive. He knew that I was done. I handled my past in my own way. I had boxed it up and filed it away in my mind. I had developed my numbness to cope.

“Pancakes?” Elliot suggested.

I sighed happily, and my shoulders slumped as if they'd been freed of a heavyweight. “Yes please.” I chirped.

Elliot Gold and I were the picture of domestic bliss that morning. I wore his shirt, which came to mid-thigh and he cooked pancakes, in nothing but sweatpants which highlighted the delicious V of his hipbones.

I wanted so badly for every morning to be as perfect as that one. My phone began to vibrate from where I’d placed it against the counter and when I answered it, it was the hospital. The tests were back and I needed to go into the hospital to speak to the doctor.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Elliot asked.

“I don’t know.” I admitted. “It's going to be a boring day. I'm sure I can get Rina to give me a ride up to Baton Rouge.”

Elliot walked over the rose gold dish on the kitchen counter. “Porsche or Audi?” he asked.

“What?” I laughed.

“Borrow my car.”

“What if I crash it?”

“You have your license, right?” He asked with a raised brow.

I squirmed in my seat and his mouth popped open in disbelief. “You don’t have your license?” he repeated back.

“I took driver’s ed, but I couldn’t take the test.” I said, eying the car keys in his hand with bone-deep sadness.

“Why not?” he demanded.

“I don’t have a social security number.”

“That makes no sense.”

With a sigh, I pushed myself up from the stool and padded over to where Elliot stood. I placed my hand on his cheek.

“Thank you for the offer; that was really kind of you.” I said.

He seemed peeved. Annoyed by the puzzle that our conversation had presented him, but he said nothing. His lips twisted and after a second he leant forward and placed a light kiss on my mouth. It quickly turned heated. He tasted like maple syrup and peppermint. The scruff of his stubble brushed my chin and I gripped the top of his arms of leverage.

Elliot's hands gripped my waist. I throbbed and ached for him.

Every touch was fire.

“I’ll call Markus,” Elliot said, Markus was the driver that worked for the Gold family. “Just let me know when you're done and I’ll be here.”