Changing Everything (7 page)

Was it ridiculous that I was fighting back a smile? It was so weird to have Eli look like
I’d
crushed
him
. “And he hadn’t even gotten there five minutes before. He brought me coffee. We kissed, and that’s it—your visit last week made things kind of awkward between us.”

“That’s not one of the things I’m going to apologize for.”

I made a face and sighed. “Last night when I left O’Malley’s, he came out there to take me home. He told me to think about everything over the weekend, and when I was ready, to go talk to him. He looked crushed because he’d already seen me cry over you too many times, and I think he knew that I wouldn’t choose him.” Looking into Eli’s eyes, I moved closer and he pulled me onto his lap, but his expression was subdued as he waited for me to continue. “I wanted to choose him, Eli. I wanted to, and I told him that . . . I freaked when he told me to think about things, because I knew what that implied. And you know what he said?”

Eli raised one eyebrow, but didn’t speak. I think he was forcing himself not to, judging by the way his fingers were curling around me like he wasn’t about to let me go for anything.

“He said, ‘You loved him first,’ like that should have answered everything. He didn’t want to compete with you even though I was with him. He didn’t want to compete with a guy who knew me better than I knew myself.” Swallowing past the tightness in my throat, I tried to stop the way my body wanted to curl in on itself. “I was on my way to tell him I’d chosen him this afternoon when you stopped me, but after I left you, I went to the beach instead and sat there for hours. When I finally got up to drive to his place, I still didn’t know who I would choose, and I didn’t know until he opened his door.”

Eli’s eyes hardened. “What did he do?”

I ran my fingers through his hair to calm him and shook my head subtly. “Nothing. And everything. He made it easier to breathe. He made the ache of talking to you go away. I knew when I looked at him that I’d somehow fallen in love with him, and I knew loving him could be easy. But the way he made me feel didn’t compare to the way I’d instantly felt whole as soon as you were near me. Or how I’d felt like I was dying while I walked away from you because I’d known you wouldn’t be a part of my life. He knew the second I realized who my choice was, and I know I broke his heart. He held me for a long time, and he asked what made me decide.”

“Did you tell him?”

I nodded and placed a hand over his chest. “I said, ‘I can see a future with you . . . but I can’t see one without him.’ And he and I both knew that if he was in my future, you wouldn’t be.”

“I’m sorry you’re hurting, and I’m sorry I put you in this position, Paisley.”

I cracked a tiny smile and forced a laugh. “It would’ve been a lot easier if you’d figured out you loved me a long time ago.”

Eli didn’t find that amusing.

“I told you before, you own my soul. No one can touch a love like that.”

He brushed back hair that had fallen in my face, and his blue eyes followed the movement before meeting mine again. “I don’t know what I did to deserve your love, Paisley, but I’m thankful for it.” Pressing his lips to mine gently, he only pulled back enough to say, “I’m sorry for not knowing. I’m sorry for using you as a shield from exes, and using you to get other girls when I should have known that you were the only girl who mattered.”

“Eli—”

“I’m sorry for making you watch me with anyone else when it always should have been you. I’m sorry for hurting you over and over again.”

“Stop!” I pled. “Stop, Eli, I know you are. But we need to move past that or you’re going to keep tearing yourself up over what’s in the past. And I want to start a future with you.”

“You don’t understand how much I hate—”

“Then let me apologize for taking so long to tell you,” I begged, cutting him off.

His head jerked back. “What? No.”

“Yes,” I argued. “None of this would’ve happened if I’d just told you a long time ago.”

“But you don’t know if that would have changed things then. You don’t know if our friendship would’ve been different. We might not have ended up like we are now.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way, and based on the look Eli was giving me, my expression was saying just that.

“So as long as you don’t try to take blame, I’ll . . .
try
to stop apologizing,” he promised, and I narrowed my eyes at him. He shook his head slowly when he knew I was getting ready to argue that too. “That’s the best you’re getting, Paisley. I’ve had to watch you cry numerous times because of me. I’ve beat guys up over you for a lot less than that.”

“Guys
as in plural?”

“Yeah.” He breathed the word like that shouldn’t be news. It was.

“Do I want to—”

“No.”

I bit back a smile and rolled my eyes. “Got it.”

Pushing me off his lap, he kissed me forcefully as he climbed off the bed. “I’m gonna lock up, and I’m not letting you leave. So change, because I’m exhausted and I want you in my arms.”

My heart took off and his face lit up in reaction to the cheesiest smile that was covering my own. I’d slept in a bed with him hundreds of times, but everything was different now, and he’d just told me he wanted me in his arms. And he’d been kissing me. Not fake brushes of his lips against the side of my neck for girls to see, but actual kisses that I’d only dreamt of. That’s it. I had to be dreaming.

I’m going to wake up and all of this will be some sick joke.

“It’s real, Pay.”

I looked up to where he was standing in the doorway, and my eyebrows drew together.

“You look like you’re starting to freak out, and I’m thinking the same thing. That’s why I’m falling asleep with you in my arms tonight. Because I need to feel you and be able to touch you to know that this isn’t all going to be gone in the morning.”

My lips parted and I blinked slowly at him. “I don’t know if I should be in awe, or kinda creeped out that you can read my mind now.”

He shrugged and turned to walk down the hall, his voice trailing behind him. “Or you just said it out loud.”

My expression fell even though he couldn’t see me anymore. Jerk.

Scrambling quickly off the bed, I pulled my pants and shirt off, and folded them in a pile next to Eli’s dresser. Grabbing one of his shirts out of the drawers, I started to put it on, and at the last second, took my bra off. It’s not like I needed the bra that much, but I still usually wore one if I knew I’d be sleeping with him.

Slipping the shirt over my head, I let it fall over my body and pulled my hair out of the collar.

You always look like such a lost little girl when you’re in my clothes.

I froze on my way back to his bed when I remembered the words he’d told me a few months ago, and looked down at where his shirt hung almost to my knees. I didn’t want to look like a little girl, and I wanted to wear his shirt. I always wore them when we slept together . . . never mind the fact that I didn’t have anything else to wear.

Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, I pulled together the loose material and tied it all in a knot against the side of my thigh. By the time I straightened, his shirt looked a lot more like the shirt-dress Kristen had made me wear than one of Eli’s baggy shirts I always drowned in. It sat just under my butt and tight against my thighs, and from the way Eli stopped walking and his eyes widened as they took me in, I knew that “lost little girl” wasn’t anywhere in his vocabulary right now.

Keeping his eyes on me, he pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor as his hands went to the button on his dark tan cargo shorts. My mind knew I should have turned away, that I wasn’t supposed to watch Eli when he changed—but that’d been before.

My lips felt dry when he stood from taking off his shorts, and I couldn’t stop myself from finally looking at his wide, muscular build in nothing but a tight pair of dark boxer briefs as he walked toward me. A smirk played on his lips as he moved past me, and I turned to watch the muscles in his back move as he bent to prop up all the pillows.

“Are you—” I cleared my throat. “Are you not putting on shorts?”

He looked over his shoulder, that same smirk still taunting me. “Are you going to fix my shirt?”

“No.”

“If I’m going to be tortured by the sight of you like that, Paisley, I’m not helping you by putting anything else on.”

“But I’m covered! Well, half of me is.”

“No one ever said you had to be.” He pulled back the comforter and slid into the bed, messing with the pillows as he tried to get comfortable sitting up against them.

I just stood there staring at him with my jaw dropped.

“Bed, Paisley.”

His words moved straight to my stomach and curled in the most amazing way. It didn’t matter that I’d seen him in a bed hundreds of times like he was then; looking at him like this with those words was something right from one of my fantasies. And while I wanted to live out those fantasies so bad, I also kind of wanted to draw out this whole torturing him. He’d tortured me for years; it was an exhilarating feeling knowing I was finally getting my chance.

I walked over to the bed and crawled on, but instead of getting on my side and curling up against him, I climbed onto his lap. Trying to ignore the way his eyes heated so I wouldn’t go right into fantasy mode, I reached back for the comforter and pulled it over my shoulders as I rested myself against his chest with my cheek pressed to his shoulder.

Eli’s hands went to my hips and began moving back, but paused. “Paisley,” he growled in warning.

“You should’ve put your shorts on.”

He leaned his head back against the pillows and laughed in frustration. “You’re making it a lot harder than it needs to be.”

“Pun intended?” With how short I’d made the shirt, all that was between us was two thin pieces of cotton, and I involuntarily rocked my hips against his growing erection.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and tried to still my hips.

“Language.”

Gripping my chin between his fingers, he moved my head so he could look in my eyes. “Who was the last?” he demanded.

My breathing deepened as I pressed myself more firmly against him. “Johnny Gallo,” I responded automatically.

“That first time?”

I nodded and moved against him again, a whimper on the tip of my tongue, but Eli’s hand flexed against my hip to the point where it got my attention.

“Who was the last guy to touch you?”

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I sat there staring at him for long seconds. I only responded when his fingers left my chin and brushed against my cheek.

“Paisley,” he crooned. “Tell me.”

“No one.”

His eyebrows slammed down. “Not even Johnny?” When I shook my head, he muttered something too low for me to hear. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. Starting tomorrow, everything is going to be about you.”

“What?”

Bringing his mouth to mine, he spoke against it. “For one week, I’m going to show you what it feels like to be touched . . .
everywhere
. The week after I am going to explore every inch of you with my tongue,” he vowed, and a bone-deep shiver moved through my body. “And when that week is up, I’m going to spend an entire day buried deep inside you.”

And I’d thought it was my turn to be the torturer. My breaths were so ragged my voice was nearly inaudible. “That’s not necessary.”

“I disagree.” Capturing my mouth with his, he stopped any other protests I may have had as he kissed me thoroughly. “Now go to sleep before I try to think of reasons why right now isn’t a bad idea.”

I sagged against his chest, and a deep laugh filled the room. All he’d done was told me everything, and I was already aching for him and exhausted from what he’d promised. I was sure I wouldn’t sleep after that with how wild my mind was running, but his deep, rhythmic breaths soon had my eyes shutting and I slowly fell asleep on his lap.

Chapter Eight

September 22, 2013

Paisley

“P
AISLEY.”

My eyes cracked open to Eli’s dark room hours later, and I rolled my head back to see him looking down at me. “Hi,” I said hoarsely.

“Hey.” He smiled. “Guess what.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s Sunday.”

I was still asleep enough that I had no idea what he was talking about until his lips were pressed against mine and his hands were moving down my back.

It was Sunday. Holy crap, it was Sunday.

Running his hands down the curve of my back and over my butt, he curled his fingers around the hem of his shirt on my body to pull it higher. There was no time for worry about where this was going—there was no reason to think of anything other than the way his hands felt on my bare skin . . . I’d wanted this for as long as I could remember.

Sitting up straighter, I threaded my fingers in his hair as I deepened the kiss, muting my moan when his long fingers pulled aside my underwear and trailed over me. A shiver coursed through my body when his thumb circled against my clit, and I had to break away from our kiss when it became too difficult to remember how to breathe.

I pressed my forehead against his and kept my fingers locked in his hair as I moved my hips against his hand, my movements stopping when he slowly slid one finger inside me.

“You okay?”

I lowered myself slightly, and bit my lip against the feel of him. “More,” I whimpered, and before I could be embarrassed about my plea, he was adding a second finger and I was trying to stifle a gasp.

I hadn’t meant
that
by more. I’d meant I wanted more of his teasing, more of his fingers and palm moving against me . . . but, oh God, when he began moving them in and out of me, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

My stomach tightened and my body warmed as I rocked against his hand, and soon the tightening got to be too much, but even as I stopped moving and my body became as tight as a bow, Eli’s hand continued the sweetest agony I’d ever endured. I tried to say his name, but my breath was caught in my throat and my blood felt like it was on fire.

Pressing the heel of his palm against my clit, he tightened his grip on my hip at the same time, and it felt like everything in me shattered. No sound left me as my body shook against the rush of adrenaline, but my mouth remained open as I desperately tried to pull in air.

Eli’s movements slowed, and my body jerked when he ran his fingers over my clit as he removed his hand. “Happy Sunday,” he murmured against my neck, then placed a kiss there.

His hands wrapped around my thighs to pull me closer onto his lap, and I whimpered when his thick erection pressed against me. Releasing the lock I had on his hair, I sat back and began trailing my fingers down his chest. And even though everything was too sensitive, I couldn’t stop myself from rocking against him, and wishing there wasn’t any material between us.

“No, Pay.” He stopped my hands when they reached his stomach, and pulled them to our sides.

“What? Why?”

His eyes—darkened from the room—held mine, and the heat was clear there. I didn’t have to be sitting on his lap to know what he wanted. “I told you these next two weeks were about you.”

“But, Eli—”

“Don’t fight me on this, Pay. I will get my way,” he assured me, the husky tone of his voice caused another shiver to move up my spine. “Go back to sleep.”

I’d just had my first orgasm caused by someone other than myself, my body was still shaking from the aftereffects, and I was sitting on his lap and knew this had to be killing him. I so did not want to go to sleep.

Gripping his hands tightly, I pressed down on his lap harder and ground my hips against him.

His eyes flew open. “Paisley,” he said in warning, but I didn’t stop.

Releasing my hands, he pushed up the shirt I was wearing even higher and gripped the top of my underwear. With one hard tug, and a shocked cry from me, he tore the material off my body and threw it off the side of the bed.

I couldn’t even be mad. I was incredibly turned on by it and high off the fact that I was about to get what I wanted.

I inhaled sharply when he pressed his fingers inside me, and trembled when he whispered darkly, “I warned you.”

Removing his hand, he gripped my bottom and pressed me onto his lap again, this time helping in my movements. He groaned and buried his head against my neck, and when my hands reached for his boxer briefs again, his fingers gripping my butt spread my cheeks, and one of his fingers pushed against a place no person should ever touch.

“Eli!” I screeched, and sat up, trying to get away from the invasion.

A soft laugh rumbled in his chest, and one of his hands moved back to my clit. “I told you to go to sleep, Pay.”

I arched my back, trying to find more pressure while simultaneously shaking my head. “That’s—no. Just . . . no.”

“Are you sure?” he asked as his other hand gently touched my bottom.

“Y-yes.”

“Lean against my chest again, Paisley.” When I didn’t move from my straightened position, his hand moved from my bottom to press two fingers deep inside me. “Trust me.”

I slowly lowered myself; my eyes were already fluttering shut with how different everything felt in this position. I bit down on my bottom lip and curled my arms around his shoulders as I tried to hold on. It felt like at any second I would be lost—but being lost in Eli didn’t sound like a bad thing.

My breathing turned ragged when I got closer to another orgasm; my mind was so consumed in the feel I didn’t notice Eli switching which fingers were inside me until one was pushing against no-man’s-land again.

I stiffened and wanted to get away from it again, but I was so close, and Eli’s calming voice had me staying where I was.

“Trust me, Pay.”

His finger pushed in slowly as I kept moving against him, and my face tightened against the foreign pressure. “Please,” I whimpered.

But I didn’t know what I was begging for. Please stop. Please
don’t
stop. Because the pressure was still building—faster now, and I found myself pressing back against him instead of trying to get away from him.

“God, Eli, please.”

Too much. Too much. He was everywhere, and I knew if I let go, it was all going to be too much.

When it felt like I couldn’t take any more of him, the pressure on my clit increased and I came with a sharp cry. It wasn’t like before. It didn’t feel like I was shattering. It felt like I was weightless, floating, nothing until everything came crashing down in a heavy rush that began in my stomach and spread all the way to my fingers and toes.

“Pay?” Eli asked softly a few moments later.

“Hmm?” I managed to force from my chest. My forehead was pressed to his neck, my cheek was against his collarbone, and my body was slumped against his as I waited to come back to earth.

“You okay?”

“That was . . . that . . .” I trailed off, and gave up on trying to explain the experience as well as my discomfort and pleasure with it.

“I need to know if you’re okay,” he prompted. When I just nodded, he chuckled and wrapped his arms tight around me. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Always,” I muttered.

He held me until my eyes started drifting shut, and when I felt myself being moved, I blinked slowly up at him.

“Where are you going?”

Eli laughed huskily. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

My eyes slid down to his erection, and I sat up on the bed. “Please, let me.”

With a searing kiss, he laid me back down on the bed. “These weeks are about you, I can take care of me.”

“Eli—”

“Sleep, Pay. I love you.”

I watched him walk into the bathroom, and tried to tell myself to get up and go to him, but my eyes were already shutting again by the time I heard the water turn on.

September 22, 2013

Eli

S
HUTTI
NG THE FRONT
door softly behind me, I took a few steps in the direction of my bedroom and listened for any movement. When there wasn’t any, I turned and walked through my apartment and into my kitchen. Setting down the coffees and breakfast on the island, I sorted everything out before heading back toward my bedroom.

As I cracked open the door, my heart pounded against my chest when I saw Paisley lying on her stomach on my bed, right knee pulled up to the side.

Years of not seeing what was right in front of me . . . and somehow it still felt like I couldn’t believe she was finally mine. Somehow I’d known what she meant to me. I’d known and had just been too stupid.

Crawling onto the bed, I knelt down above her and placed light kisses on the back of her neck, moving around to her cheek.

“Wake up, beautiful girl.”

She squinted up at me for a second before closing her eyes again and trying to burrow under the comforter.

Brushing back her dark hair, wild from sleep, I let my lips trail across her exposed cheekbone and up over her eyebrow. “It’s Sunday morning, I have coffee and breakfast.”

“Sounding better,” she mumbled.

“I’ll give you the first bite?” I offered.

“Gettin’ there.”

“I need you to wake up so I can kiss you. It’s been hours.”

Her lips curved up in a smile. “Poor you.”

Nibbling on her ear, I whispered, “And I have a lot of touching to do.”

Red stained her porcelain cheeks when I leaned back, and her eyes were wide when she turned her head to look up at me. “Do you now?”

Keeping my weight on one arm, I pulled the comforter down enough so I could trail my free hand along her side until I got to where the shirt she was wearing had ridden up to her hips. Paisley pushed her ass up when I moved my hand between her and the bed, and as soon as I had my hands between her legs, she quickly wiggled away from the comforter and me, and jumped off the bed.

“What—”

She darted out of the room and down the hall, and I scrambled off the bed and took off after her. I found her standing in the kitchen taking a long drink from one of the coffee cups, and raised an eyebrow at her as I walked to stand behind her.

“So you run from me now?”

Tilting her head back so it was resting against my chest, she gave me a doe-eyed look. “You promised coffee and breakfast.”

“I did.”

“And then there were some things you wanted to do . . . so coffee and breakfast first.”

I planted my chin on her head when she looked down to unwrap one of the sandwiches. “I didn’t mean for those to be in order,” I grumbled.

She handed me the sandwich after checking it. “Well, you got your way last night, so I’m getting my way this morning.”

A slow grin crossed my face. “You enjoyed it.”

Paisley stilled against my body. “That’s embarrassing.”

Tossing the sandwich back on the island, I turned her around and bent down to look directly in her eyes. “Did you enjoy it, yes or no? Because if you didn’t, tell me now, Paisley, and I’ll never do that to you again.”

Her cheeks flushed again and she looked away for a second. “I did, I just—I don’t know how to feel about the fact that I did. Like I said, it’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” I begged her. “It felt good for you, and I loved watching you come undone in my arms—that’s all that matters.”

“Still embarrassing,” she muttered as she turned back around and grabbed for her own sandwich.

“You’ll beg for it one day,” I assured her.

“Eli!”

“What?”

“I would really like to eat, and I’m not going to be able to if you keep talking about that.”

I was glad she couldn’t see me smiling. Picking up my food, I unwrapped it and held it in front of her for her to take the first bite before taking my own.

“Pay, can I ask you something?” I asked when I’d finished my food.

She turned around and leaned against the island, and just raised an eyebrow as she chewed.

“Why do you get on me for cussing?”

Her expression fell and she worked at swallowing as she turned and grabbed for her coffee.

“When we were younger I thought you were a prude, but then as we got older I thought it was just more of a running joke for us. It wasn’t until you cussed at me at the bar, and then everything went to shit, that I thought it might be something else. And I was just wondering if there
was
a reason.”

She laughed hesitantly. “It is more of a joke now, but I still don’t like it.” I stood there waiting for her to continue, and after a couple minutes, she took a deep breath in and shrugged. “My dad was an alcoholic. It wasn’t like he’d drink every night, thank God. But twice a week maybe? And when he drank, he drank enough to put ten men out for the night. Whatever he’d gone out to buy, he’d finish all of it every time. Mom hated that he drank, said he was blowing our money and trying to kill himself. She’d always start cussing at him. He hated cussing, and she knew it . . . but she’d keep throwing out words like she was goading him or something. Because he’d just yell louder and louder, telling her to stop cussing until he started throwing things at her or hitting her. And he’d hit her until one of them was unconscious.”

“Paisley,” I whispered, horrified. “How did I not know about this?”

Her brown eyes darted up to mine. “The funny thing about all this? He’s a pastor, or was; I don’t know what he’s doing anymore. I haven’t seen him since I was eleven. At church on Sunday we were the picture-perfect family for the congregation, but when he’d get the itch to drink . . . he’d go a few towns over to a liquor store and it would start all over again. I think that’s why my mom provoked him with the cussing, because she felt like she couldn’t just leave a man who would drink himself to sleep a couple nights a week and leave us without any money . . . she wanted to be able to say he was abusive. Something about divorce being wrong in the Bible.” Paisley rolled her eyes. “They were so hypocritical.”

Grabbing loosely onto her forearms, I let my hands slide down until they were gripping hers and pulled her into my chest. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”