Chapter 42: : Chapter 42

The asshole knows how to play me, but I would take fucking this lethal man over socializing at a party any day. Especially a party that revolves around our fake-ass relationship that, as of late, feels more real than it should. It’s confusing. I’ve had these walls around me for as long as I can remember—most likely ever since my mother first looked at me in disgust and then walked away for good—and now I can’t help but wonder what a life not being on my own might look like.

I’ve now had a taste of what many women want, something I once saw as a sure sign of weakness, and now I’m intrigued by it. Or maybe it’s because Eli Monti is so good at pretending like I’m the center of his world. And right now, it’s not for show because it’s only him and me as his hands skate up my dress and he pushes my back against the wall in the elevator.

There is a big part of me screaming to tell him to stop this. But I also really like the warmth of his hands on my skin and the fire it creates in every one of my atoms. It’s been a long time since a man has touched me with such need, and I’ve felt that desire tenfold in return.

When the elevator stops on the bottom level, he continues his sensual assault on my body. His lips graze along my collarbone, and I’m gripping the front of his shirt, trying to find some kind of hold on reality.

I shouldn’t want this man. But the more time we spend together, the more I find I’m falling deeper into an abyss I can’t get out of. I need to keep reminding myself that the moment our four months are up, he’ll most likely try to kill me. And now, settling on a divorce to end a marriage I don’t even want makes me feel equally uncomfortable. Because right now, he makes me feel anything but discardable.

I try to focus solely on the carnal attraction we clearly have for each other because that’s all I can allow myself to take from this man until I take his life.

Because my client will eventually order me to do exactly that and is throwing out my career for this man worth it? When he’ll leave me high and dry once everything is done?

He leads me out of the elevator and then presses me against the wall just outside the lobby and reception desk.

His tongue licks up my neck, over my chin, then teases my lips. I can’t stop him, no matter how hard that part of me is telling me to. He cups my bare ass and squeezes it before he lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. My arms circle his neck, and I’m basically grinding against him in the hallway of this hotel like an animal in heat. I’ve never experienced a sexual need like this.

His lips assault mine, and I hate to admit it, but I love how it feels and the way he tastes. My hands slide up from his neck and run through his hair as I kiss him back with as much passion as he gives me.

“This isn’t a room,” someone interrupts and clears their throat. I pant through broken kisses, trying to draw myself back to reality because if I don’t do it myself, I might stay high on this kind of lust.

Eli doesn’t automatically pull back, but my mouth pauses on his, and my hips stop grinding against him. I’m slightly embarrassed, but when Eli shoots me a boyish grin, I can’t help but respond with a mischievous grin of my own.

“I own this hotel, so I suggest you move on,” is all he says as I force him to slowly lower me back to my feet. “And you… Don’t even think you can get out of this.” He pushes his body back against mine, grabbing my hands and pinning them to the wall beside my body.

“I think it’s time you take me home,” I tell him with a seductive smile.

“To our home,” he corrects, and my smile falters. His words sap all the energy out of me, reality crashing back in.

“I don’t want to move in with you,” I whisper. He brushes his nose against mine as if to gesture for me to hold my head high and looks into my eyes.

“Your things are already being moved into my apartment as we speak. You took advantage of breaking into my home yesterday while I was distracted. So I returned the favor today.” My jaw drops. I can feel the heat rising up my neck, which often happens when he pisses me off.

The thought of someone else going through my things right now makes my blood boil. But it’s also tit for tat, which is infuriating. Every little thing I do against this man, he either throws it back in my face or one-ups me.

“You might be used to strangers touching your things, but I’m not, and I don’t like it.” I wiggle free of his hold and manage to step a few feet away.

He chuckles behind me. “We’ve had this discussion already; I just moved the process along faster for both of us. Why must you fight against me at every turn?”

I lift my hand to my mouth, the habit happening subconsciously, and he lowers it back down to my side.

“Stop biting your skin. If it makes you feel better, I can tell them not to unpack your stuff so you can do it yourself.”

“It would make me feel better if you hadn’t packed all my shit up in the first place.” I walk ahead of him toward the car.

He steps in front of me. “Why must you fight me on everything even after you agree?” he demands.

“Because you’re just doing this all at your own pace. And you’re blackmailing me in order to get what you want.”

He scoffs and looks down at me condescendingly. “You were hired to kill me. Wouldn’t you rather me blackmail you and keep you safe by my side than have had me kill you the moment I found out about you?”

“Protect me?” I ask in shock. “Is that what you think you’re doing?” I can look after myself. Protect myself. But right now, I’m starting to think this might be the one man I can’t run away from so easily. “You’re like a fucking barnacle.”

“Excuse me?” He frowns.

“Let’s not get this twisted, that this is anything more than a fake arrangement,” I say for both of our sakes, but mostly mine.

He steps closer to me, motioning me to be quieter as he scans the parking lot. When he looks back at me, I can tell he’s furious. But it’s not like how he used to be when he’d try to break my spirit or force me into submission.

Instead, he says very quietly, “Is it so bad if I wanted to figure out a way for us both to get what we want out of this in the end?”

“And what do you want?” I ask. As I search his gaze, it lights up with something I’m not entirely able to read. And even he might not be sure what it is. He licks his lips as if he wants to speak but can’t. I want to laugh, amused by Eli being speechless for the first time.

“You can’t control me, Eli. And you may be used to always being in control, but I’m not the perfect wife for the life you’re imagining. This is a business transaction. One that you set. I’ll deal with my shit after all of this, even if you come after me. Because I’ll sure as hell come for you.” I barge past him and go to open the car door, but he scoops me up from behind, his hard cock pressing into my back, and it takes all my inner power not to sink into him.

This guy is fucking crazy being turned on by this.

“Got it. Touch something of yours, and you kill me.” I can tell he’s smirking as he opens the door for me.

He releases me, and I sink into the car that I’ve gotten all too used to. I’ve fallen into a steady rhythm with this man, but the thought of living with him terrifies me. Because I just don’t know for how much longer I can bury the glaring reality that’s right in front of my face.

I’m falling for Eli Monti; his trap is the last one I should ensnare myself in.

When Eli slides into the car, he makes an obvious adjustment at his crotch as he puts his dark shades on. With an arrogant smile, he looks at me and asks, “Can we still fuck when we get back?”

My lips twitch, and I don’t know if I want to strangle him or laugh. I think it’s both.

This man is insufferable, and so I make an effort to ignore him.

We most definitely will not be fucking.