Chapter Eight
It had been several days since Elijah had gone to see Freya … since they’d shared that kiss. It was all she could think about, all that consumed her. Even now, as she sat here alone, a glass of wine in her hand, and the silence surrounding her, she still felt his lips on hers. She tried calling him, tried talking to him about everything, but every time she’d tried to get in touch he’d either been busy or wouldn’t answer.
The fear of losing his friendship because of the kiss frightened her. She wanted him, wanted him more than she probably should, but that didn’t mean she would lose their friendship if she couldn’t be with him in the sexual way she wanted.
Touching her lips, she felt them tingle, and closed her eyes and imagined herself on his lap again. God, his dick had been so hard, like a steel rod between them. She’d wanted so badly to unzip his pants and pull out his cock. But thinking and acting were two very different things. No way could she have been so bold, not when she thought kissing was rushing fast.
It’s not fast. It’s just that you’re not used to what’s going on.
This was true, and it wasn’t like she didn’t know Elijah. She supposed it was just the fact she had known him for years, and their relationship had been a little strange given their living situation.
Her cell vibrating beside her pulled her out of her thoughts, and had her heart racing.
Maurice: Just seeing how you’re doing, and what’s new. I miss talking to you.
She smiled at that, and replied.
I’m okay. Just dealing with Elijah avoiding me. He’s gone silent on me.
She’d spoken to Maurice briefly after the kiss she’d shared with Elijah, telling him her fears, and how she wanted more.
Maurice: He’s either playing hard to get, or he wants you a hell of a lot and is just afraid of how things went.
She thought about that after she read his text. He’d seemed more upset than frightened after their kiss and right before he hightailed it out of her house. But she hadn’t been very forthcoming on why she’d wanted to stop either. Telling him it was fast, that she was confused, was all true. She hadn’t hidden that fact, but she also hadn’t really talked to him about the almost taboo nature of what they did. She sent another text.
How are things with you? Work going good? How about things with Sarah?
Maurice: Work is okay, but my mom keeps getting on me to go out more. I guess having Sarah at my house all the time so we can watch Dr. Who re-runs isn’t what my mom thinks is good date material.
Freya laughed.
She doesn’t know you very well then.
Maurice: Or Sarah for that matter, since it’s been Sarah’s idea to watch Dr. Who.
Freya laughed again.
You’re happy?
Maurice: I am.
Freya felt so glad that Maurice was happy, and that he’d found someone. He deserved that and more.
Maurice: What are you going to do?
She knew what Maurice was saying even though he was going at it in a roundabout way.
I think I’m going to just go to his office, talk to him and hopefully not make a fool out of myself.
Maurice: You won’t make a fool out of yourself by being honest. Any guy would love to have you at his side, Freya. If things were different between us… if we felt differently for each other, I’d snatch you up and not let you out of my sight.
She smiled at his text and started to reply.
You’re such a good friend.
The cell vibrated almost instantly with his reply.
Maurice: Ditto ;) Listen, if you want to talk I’m here. I love you and keep your chin up. Go for the gold.
She outright laughed at that text.
Talk to you later.
God, Maurice was such a good friend, and she was glad after what they’d done together they could still be this close.
After setting her phone down, leaning back on the couch, and bringing her wine glass back to her mouth, she took a long sip. Yes, she’d go speak with Elijah since he was avoiding her, clearly. She’d tell him that she was confused about where things were going, but not because she cared what people thought, or because she didn’t want him. No, she was confused because she’d never felt this kind of attraction before, never felt this kind of arousal.
He was older than she was, they had a history, but despite all of that she was going to push everything aside and go after what she wanted. And what she wanted, who she wanted, was Elijah Westgate.
****
He hadn’t been able to get her off of his mind, not when the feel of her lips on his, the warmth and weight of her body on him were engrained in his head. But he was pissed at himself more for how he’d just left, for how he’d totally ignored how he felt, run from her and what they’d done, even if it was probably the right thing to do. He should have stayed and spoken to her about it all, told her how he felt, what he wanted. But Elijah had seen the confusion on her face after it all, the confusion because he’d rushed all of this.
He’d touched her, kissed her … fucking hell, he’d told her to touch his cock, and she had. It had felt incredible, so damn incredible that he’d wanted nothing more than to just strip her naked and fuck her right there. He wanted to claim her, her body, and tell her, demand from Freya that she was only his.
These feelings, thoughts, were so wild, so untamed, that they frightened him on a deep, primal level. But despite the fear he felt, the unease that he was falling for this woman head first, not even caring that he was going to crash at the bottom and never recover, he knew that running wouldn’t keep him away.
He turned and stared out his office window, and rested his elbows on the top of his thighs. He’d picked up his phone a dozen times since he’d left her house, wanting to call her, but hanging up before he’d dialed her number. And what made him feel even more like a motherfucker was the fact she’d called and he’d avoided her. But he thought he’d been doing the right thing, giving her space, time to adjust to what they’d done.
It had been fucking hard staying away, especially since he wanted her so damn badly.
“Mr. Westgate, a Miss Dresden is here to see you.”
And then his heart just stopped in his chest at the sound of his receptionist saying Freya was here. Turning in his chair he pressed down on the intercom.
“Send her in right away.” He stood, buttoned his suit jacket, and stared at the double doors of his office. She was here? She was really fucking here, and that made him feel like an even bigger asshole because she probably wouldn’t have shown up if he hadn’t avoided her.
A few seconds later the doors opened and Freya walked in. She held her bag, but looked around his office before she saw him standing there. After a moment her gaze landed on his, and even from the distance he saw her throat work, could practically feel her nerves. His receptionist shut the doors, sealing them in, but having Freya right in front of him couldn’t even bring up what he should say. But his mind kicked into gear when she took a step forward.
“I’m sorry, Freya.”
She stopped. “For what?” she asked genuinely.
He ran a hand through his hair, not caring that he was mussing the strands.
“For kissing me?” Freya asked softly.
“Never for kissing you,” Elijah said right away. He exhaled and sat down, not knowing where to bring, but figuring he might as well just let it all out. “Please, have a seat and we’ll talk.”
Freya moved to one of the chairs in front of his desk, and after a few moments he finally spoke again. “I’m sorry if I rushed you, if me kissing you made you uncomfortable.”
“It didn’t,” she said instantly. “I wish we could have talked about it, that you hadn’t run off. I wanted to explain that I didn’t want you to stop, just that everything was confusing at that moment. I felt this wave of emotion over what we did, and it scared me a little, Elijah.”
“I shouldn’t have left like that, and I shouldn’t have avoided your calls.”
She looked at her hands in her lap, and for a moment didn’t respond. When she finally lifted her head, he saw the truth and vulnerability in her face. “I want you, Elijah, want you more than I should because of the history we have.”
“That was a long time ago.”
She nodded after he spoke. “But you were married to Meghan, my once stepmother.”
“I want you, Freya.” He leaned his forearms on the desk, stared at her, and hoped she could see the truth in his expression. He saw her throat work as she swallowed, saw her eyes widen a fraction, and he knew she could see all right. He pushed away from the desk, stood, and walked toward her. She tilted her head back to look up at him, her hands playing with the strap of her purse, her nerves clearly written on her face. He dropped to his haunches, took her hands in his, and gazed into her eyes.
“I know this all seems so fast, and it is, believe me. I didn’t expect to fall for a woman, even one I’ve known for years, just a week after she gets back into town.”
She licked her lips, her chest rising and falling a little harder and faster than normal.
“But I’m willing to go slow, take my time with you, with this, as long as you’re willing, Freya.”
She didn’t respond, didn’t even blink, but after several long, agonizing seconds, she finally inhaled and exhaled slowly.
“I’ll do whatever you want, Freya, as long as you think you can give this, us, a go,” he said, not wanting to beg, to put her on the spot with this. He didn’t want her to feel like he was pressuring her, rushing her.
“I don’t know how things will go, but I know I’d like to spend more time with you and see where this takes us.”
He couldn’t help himself. Elijah leaned forward, cupped her face in his hands, and for one second didn’t do or say anything, just gave her a chance to stop him, if that was what she really wanted. She didn’t, and so he leaned in and kissed her. At first he just pressed his lips to hers, but when she moaned softly and leaned into his mouth more, he stroked his tongue along her bottom lip. She opened for him, sucked his tongue in her mouth, and he was tempted to push all of his shit off of the desk and lay her on it to feast on her body.
“I want you, Elijah, but can we take this slow?”
He smiled against her mouth, needing the slowness as well. “Of course we can. This isn’t something I want to rush, Freya.”
“Good, because I don’t want to either.”
He just hoped he didn’t fuck this up, because he knew Freya was something really damn special.