Elias (New Adult Romance) (West Bend Saints Book 1) (17 page)

"So you'd make furniture, if you could do anything in the world?"

"Yeah," I said.  "And, I mean, there's this other idea I have, but it's dumb..."

"Tell me."

I suddenly felt vulnerable, like I was revealing some big part of myself.  "A lot of the prosthetics are getting really life-like," I said.  "Which is cool and all.  But I want to do the opposite.  I think they could look more like art pieces or something."

"Like industrial art," she said, nodding.

"Yeah.  I have some ideas I've been sketching."

"Can I see?"  River sat up.

I nodded toward my bag.  "There's a notebook in there," I said.  "If you want to look at them.  I mean, they're not anything big.  I don't even know if they're something that can be done, anyway.  Just some things running through my head."

River pulled the notebook from my bag, and joined me, sliding up against me.  She opened the notebook, and I held my breath, waiting for her reaction.

She flipped through the pages, looking at my sketches.  Finally, she looked at me.  "Elias, these are really good.  This is a really cool idea," she said.  "Actually, I've got this artist friend, Abby, in LA.  She knows people who do laser cutting and shit, kind of like the things you've got drawn up."

"It's just something I was thinking about, anyway," I said.  "A dream.  What would you do, if you weren't an actress?"

"When I was a kid, I wanted to be a teacher."

"What kind?"

"Elementary school," River said.  "I like kids.  And I'd feel like I was doing something important."

"More than romantic comedies?"

River sighed.  "It's stupid, I know."

"Why is it stupid?"

"Because it's ridiculous.  I've been given this incredible opportunity millions of people would love to have, and I'm so ungrateful that I want to just throw it away to do something else.  It's obnoxious."

"Life's too short to do something you don't want to do."

A rap on the door downstairs interrupted us.  I sat up in the bed, and reached for my prosthetic, while River scrambled out of the bed and slipped into a t-shirt and pajama pants.

"Fucking photographers again?" I asked, as River peered out the window.

"A cop," she said, glaring at me.  "Probably because of the shot fired earlier."

I was already sliding into my jeans.  "Don't look at me," I said.  "That was all Cade."

"Like you wouldn't have done the same thing," River said.

"I'd definitely have done the same thing," I said.  "But that shot was Cade's."

Downstairs, Jed waited on the front porch.  By the time we pulled open the door, Cade and June were already crossing the meadow toward the house.

"River Andrews," Jed said.  "I didn't think the name Beth Winters suited you."

River crossed her arms across her chest, her jaw clenched.

"Can we help you, Sherriff Easton?" I asked, my words more polite than my tone.

"Well, now, I don't know," Jed said.  "We received a report of a weapon being discharged out here on the property, and I thought I'd come out to make sure no one is being harmed, especially as we've got a celebrity in town.  Obviously one with questionable taste in men."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" River said.

"Were you invited in, Jed?" Cade stood behind him.  "I don't recall ever telling you you had an invitation back on my property again."

Jed turned toward Cade, his expression colored with irritation, followed by something that looked like embarrassment when he saw June approach.  "There were reports of a shot fired," he said.

"Didn't hear any shots fired," Cade said.  "Did any of you?"

I shook my head.  "Nope."

"You got a fucking warrant, Jed?" Cade paused for a minute.  "Didn't think so.  Get the hell off my property.  You have ten seconds to leave before I get my shotgun."

A slow smile crept over Jed's face.  "I should take you in for threatening an officer of the law, Cade."  He spit on the ground beside him.  "But I'll attribute that outburst to your guilt over Stan's death."

Cade clenched his fists, and if June hadn't have stepped in, one of us would have hit Jed, I'm sure.  I didn't know what the fuck he was talking about when it came to Stan, but the way that fuckstick looked at River before and the way he talked, shit, I figured it'd be worth the assault charge.

"Cade," June said, her hand on her arm.  "Don't.  It's not worth it."

But Jed was backing down.  Apparently the guy had a sense of self-preservation.  "My father, Jedidiah Easton Sr., would like to pay his respects, Ms. Andrews, as the mayor of this town, and welcome you to West Bend."  Jed was nearly to his car before he turned around.  "I trust your visit will be a short one."

He backed down the driveway, stopping to say something to the paparazzi gathered at the end before driving down the road.  I could see a few of them snapping photos of the four of us standing outside and motioned Cade and June inside.

Inside the house, June set down Stan, who immediately toddled over to River.  She bent down to pick him up.  "How are you, gorgeous?"

"What an asshole," I said, half under my breath.

"You have no idea," June said.

"What did he mean about Stan?"

Cade's expression darkened.  "Stan was my father.  I hold Jed responsible for his death."

"Jesus H."

"He'll get what's coming to him," June said, her eyes flashing with anger.  "Eventually.  You know what they say about karma."

Stan toddled over to Cade, and Cade picked him up.  "You shouldn't have any more trouble with the reporters on the property at least, not with the Sherriff being out here too.  For now, anyway."

 

“Come here,” Elias said.  He took my hand in his and led me toward the bed, picked me up and sat me on the edge of the mattress.  He was so close to me, his erection practically begging for my attention.  I stroked him gently, and he groaned, the sound barely audible, except to me.

He found a condom and rolled it onto his length while I watched, admiring the way he made it look sexy.  I found every movement of this guy’s sexy.  I’d never felt that way about anyone before.  I wasn’t stupid enough to think it was anything but lust; but as far as lust-filled experiences go, I hadn’t had many and I hadn’t expected to have many, not with all the baggage I was carrying.  But Elias was starting to challenge the assumptions I'd made about lots of things.

He entered me, one hand cupping my ass cheek where I had begun to slide off the mattress, and the other stroking my breast while his movements grew quicker.  “Fuck, you feel so good, River,” he groaned.  

I lost track of everything but us- there was nothing else that mattered except him fucking me.  No reporters outside, no worries about what I was going to do or what was going to happen after this, no fear about when I was going to have to return to Hollywood.

He slid his hand to my face, and slipped the edge of his thumb in my mouth, his palm against my cheek.  I sucked on his finger as he brought me higher and higher with his cock, the whole time thinking about how he would feel in my mouth.

“Shit,” he said.  “The way you suck my finger…”

Hearing him say that pushed me over the edge.  I warned him, my voice barely more than a whimper.  “I’m going to come.”  The orgasm overtook me, not giving me a chance to wait for him, and I came hard, crying out.

He followed, thrusting into me one final time before I heard him yell.

Afterward, Elias leaned forward onto me, his head near my shoulder.  "That was round one," he said.  "Rest up, because I've got more planned for you."

 

 

Elias stroked the top of my forehead, pushing my hair back from my face.  "Are you going to tell me how you got the cut on your leg?" he asked, abruptly.

My heart raced.  "That's out of nowhere," I said.

"It's not from shaving," he said.  "I noticed before and didn't say anything."

"I hadn't done it in a long time," I said.

"Did you do it because of Viper?"

I laughed.  "No," I said.  "Just when I'm feeling...overwhelmed, I guess."

"I don't like it," he said.  "The idea of you hurting yourself."

He didn't say anything else, leaving everything else unspoken.  I lay against his chest, breathing in deep, something about the way he'd said it comforting to me.

"You seem so...certain...about shit," I said.

Elias stroked my arm, his fingers trailing lightly along its length.  "Can't help but be certain about some things in life," he said.

I knew it was crazy, how I was feeling.  I barely knew Elias, not really.  But I was starting to feel certain when it came to him, too.

And I didn't know what to think about that.

 

Lying on the bed, I reached on the bedside table for a condom, and felt him behind me, taking it from my hands.  He pulled me down beside him, and I heard the crinkle of the foil wrapper.

"Come here," he said, guiding my hips against him in a spooning position.  He slid easily inside me, and his palm covered my breast, his thumb on my nipple, as he began to slowly fuck me.  His breath was warm on the nape of my neck, and be brought me to the edge quickly, surprisingly quickly.

"I've never liked being inside anyone as much as I like being in you," he said, as his movements became more urgent.

“Oh my God.”  I gasped the words, barely aware of anything else except how he felt inside me.

“Fuck,” he said into my ear, his voice raspy.  “I want to feel you come on my cock right now.”

As soon as he spoke the words, I let go.  I was barely aware of anything else, even his touch, his hands on my breasts, pulling me tightly against him as he came inside me with a vengeance.

As my orgasm subsided, I felt his mouth on my neck, kissing me as I came down.  He murmured softly near my ear.  "I really can't get enough of fucking you.  You fit me like a glove."

I flushed warm at his words.  I didn't know what it was, just that my body craved his touch, couldn't get enough.  "The feeling is mutual," I said.

We holed up in the bed and breakfast for the next week, with June and Cade popping in every so often.  I was content there with him, happy to be playing pretend house or whatever it is we were doing.

I wasn't sure what this was, only that I was happy.

The thing was, I knew it couldn't last.  And I had to tell him that I'd run from the set, that any day now, someone was going to show up, looking for me.  I kept meaning to, but it never seemed like the right time.  Instead, we avoided the internet, pretended the outside world didn't exist, and spent all of our time talking and laughing and fucking.

It was perfect.

But that's the problem with perfect.  It never lasts.

 

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