Thousands (Dollar #4)

“You’ve nothing to be sor—”

“I do.” Jumping off the lifeboat, he spun in front of me. His large hands landed on my knees and without thinking, he pushed my legs apart.

Today was the first day I’d braved a different wardrobe item other than a baggy dress. I no longer suffered claustrophobia and rather liked the idea of mixing up my style choices. Today, I’d opted for an over-size t-shirt in the softest blue coupled with a pair of grey shorts with a pleat ironed down the front.

It’d taken some getting used to having the waistband tight around my belly, but I was ridiculously thankful I’d worn them as Elder spread my legs and stepped into the gap.

He didn’t seem to notice I’d battled my hatred for clothing and won. He didn’t notice his thumbs circled my naked knees or that his touch tightened on my thighs to jerk me closer.

It all happened too fast to micro-analyse, yet that was exactly what my brain did.

It hyper focused on how warm and hard he was between my legs. How his hands drifted over my thighs and wedged themselves under my ass, squeezing me with a thread of violence. I no longer sat on the lifeboat. I sat on him, and God, the thrill that gave me, the knowledge he’d gathered me close without me fighting for it...

It turned me to stone and jelly all at the same time.

My heart wobbled like some ridiculous raspberry dessert while my limbs locked into granite. I wanted to melt. To throw my arms over his shoulders, cup the back of his head, and bring his lips to mine.

Instead, I waited. I studied. I paused until he blinked hard and his nostrils flared, slowly realising how he’d gone from sitting beside me to wedged as tight against me as he could.

“Ah, shit.” He exhaled heavily, his fingers loosening around my ass.

“Wait,” I murmured as he went to pull away.

He stopped, his eyes meeting mine in a silent plea to tell him what to do.

That look of uncertainty when Elder had been everything but uncertain dove into my chest and took a pitchfork to my heart.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Holding my breath, I reached up and cupped his cheek with a shaking palm. “I’ve wanted you to touch me since I saw you at the police station.”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you at the police station.” His eyes burned into mine. “The kiss I gave you wasn’t enough. I doubt any would be enough where you’re concerned.”

His brutal honesty tripped me up.

“You can kiss me again...if you want.”

“I can’t.”

My head swam with gooey desire. “What’s stopping you?”

“You know what’s stopping me.”

“It’s just a kiss.”

He licked his lips as his body gave in, all the while fighting it with words. “We both know it’s not just a kiss.”

My hand crept up his cheek to his temple.

He shuddered as I ran my fingers through his hair, caressing him. I had to sit higher to direct my hand around to the back of his neck. My back arched, pushing my breasts out, my position giving him all the signals he needed.

“Kiss me.” Applying a touch of nail, I pulled his head downward.

The strength of his neck fought me, not budging. His eyes danced over my face as if deciding how to thwart me without hurting my feelings.

Then...it was as if something cracked inside him...as if a tiny box he kept padlocked and protected smashed beneath a sledgehammer.

And then he collapsed forward.

And his mouth crashed against mine.

And his lips were so warm and wet and welcoming.

And he kissed me.

I’d asked for the kiss, but he wholeheartedly donated it.

His lips kissed soft and hard. His tongue flicked over my mouth, not asking, not begging, but demanding entry to taste me.

I let the stress-granite leave me and the lust-melting happen. I shivered as his arms wrapped around me, clutching me close as our lips fused and the kiss turned primal in its intensity.

The warmth of the morning sun beat down on us as my breathy moan met his tattered groan—fuelling us ever harder into something that should be so tender but was so utterly violent.

I matched his ferocity with my own. My fingers clutched at his hair, tugging for more, more.

I forgot myself. I forgot we were in open view of the staff. I forgot about the past few days and the fear of what was coming. I forgot about everything but him.

But Elder didn’t forget.

He tore himself away, backing up and rubbing his mouth as if desperate for another kiss but determined to only take one. “Pim...”

His voice bordered on a reproach. As if that kiss was my fault.

Was it my fault?

I would take responsibility for some of it, but he was too strong for me to manhandle if he didn’t want it.

Leaping off the lifeboat, I stood with my hands on my hips. “If you say something like that was a mistake, or it won’t happen again or any other stupid cliché, I’m going to...to...”

A slight smirk twisted his lips. “You’re going to what?”

“I don’t know. Throw you overboard.”

“The captain would stop.” He crossed his arms, enjoying my temper.

“Fine, I’d—I’d hit you on the head with an oar.”

His gaze went to the lifeboat oars resting neatly in their brackets. “Those weigh a ton. Even I wouldn’t be able to use it as a weapon.”

“You’re taking all the fun out of my hypothetically harming you.” I hid my smile even as one brewed. “Let a girl have some fantasies.”

He cocked his head. “You have fantasies about me?”

And just like that, we were back to the dilemma of sparking attraction, high-octane lust, and the unbearable need to touch, thrust, and consume.

Goosebumps prickled as said fantasies that included nakedness and no weapons filled my mind.

Elder’s lips parted, picking up on the way my chest rose and my fingers fluttered to touch him again. “Well?”

Stepping toward him, I nodded. “I can’t stop having fantasies about you. If you know of a cure, then please...tell me.”

Any hint of joking and games vanished as his shoulders slouched and he rubbed his face with one hand. “If I knew that cure, I’d take it myself.”

I schooled myself not to be hurt. He hadn’t meant he wanted to be cured of me, just like I hadn’t meant I wanted to be cured of him. We both just wanted to find a way through this minefield of my past and his obsession and learn how to be together without an airport of unclaimed baggage following us around.

“Ah, sir?” A staff member appeared, carrying a small tray with two coffee cups. “As you requested.”

Elder nodded respectfully as he claimed both drinks. “Thank you. Please tell the chef we’re ready for breakfast if that suits.”

“Right away.” The man bowed, gave me a smile, then returned the way he’d come with his now empty tray.

I eyed Elder’s new possessions. “Didn’t sleep last night?”

He spun to face me, suspicion written all over his face. “What makes you say that?”