Glitter on the Web (30 page)

It was all he needed. His hands slid down my body, grasping my shirt and pulling it out of the way so we could get skin to skin at last. I grabbed it and pulled it over my head, desperate for the same. He stared down at my body, his finger trailing the lace of my bra. He couldn’t even speak as he dove in, his warm mouth against my cool skin. I wound my hand in his thick hair, urging him to the painfully hard peak of my breast. He needed little encouragement. When his mouth closed over the nipple through the thin, lacy fabric of my bra, I cried out a little. His tongue made lazy, white-hot circles around the sensitive peak before he switched sides, using his thumb to pay attention to which ever breast was not in his mouth.

I reached behind to release the fastener. I couldn’t stand this tease for one second longer. I needed to feel his mouth on my body. He cupped both bare breasts in his hands, studying them, examining them, touching them, and finally… kissing them.

Who needed park fireworks? My head tipped back as pleasure exploded in my brain like a nuclear bomb. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, he trailed his mouth down my body, over the slight curve of my stomach and over my jeans. His eyes met mine as he used his teeth to unfasten them, much like I had done him before.

He exacted his revenge slowly, sliding down the zipper, and kissing the delicate parts of my stomach as he pulled my jeans away. He left my matching lacy underwear as he peeled away the denim. I opened my legs wider as he positioned himself between my thighs, planting playful nips and kisses along the sensitive skin until my legs quivered. “Eli,” I murmured as he finally reached my core. His hot breath turned icy against my skin, dancing around me as he planted tantalizing kisses. I grabbed his hair in one fist. “Please.”

Looping a finger in either side, he pulled my panties down over my hips, which I adjusted. There was fire in his eyes as he pulled them down my legs and ripped them from my body. He used those strong hands to part my thighs, and then he dove right in. He pinpointed my clit with his long tongue, its tip firm and sure as it swirled around the painfully erect little nub. I shuddered all over, but he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. He sucked my clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it as he watched me squirm underneath him. I was mortified as I shuddered hard around him, coming almost instantly. It was the first time I had ever done that. It never took me long to get there, particularly when I focused all the attention on the clit, but within seconds? It was like my body was waiting for him way before my heart knew he existed. Before I could apologize, he clamped down even harder and we rode every unending spasm all the way to #2. I clutched the sheets with both hands as I undulated beneath him, unable to control my body even if I wanted to. At that moment, I was a slave. And he was my master.

Had I really thought that he wouldn’t know what to do with me when he finally got me?

My brain urged that nothing good could come of this. The rest of my body told it to shut the fuck up. I hadn’t come in a long time, and we were racing along to #3.

Eli savored the moment. He must have known I was merely a puppet on his string. He slipped a finger inside me, racking up orgasms like record sales, and I could practically hear the cash register cha-ching after each one.

That was when reason started to kick in. Money. I was giving away money. This wasn’t just a feel-good jump in the sack, casual sexy fun. I was giving away security with every ring of the bell. I’d walk away from this whole sham of a relationship with nothing, no money, no self-respect, no FFF… no heart. It was inevitable. This wasn’t a real relationship. It had been a ruse. A game.

Fake.

Just like our time at the park, this was all make believe. I had to put on the brakes. I had to. Oh my God it felt so good... but I had to.

“Eli,” I managed, my voice hoarse from all the screaming. He crawled up my body and planted a kiss on my mouth, so I could surely know what failure tasted like. “Please. Stop. I need a minute.”

He shook his head, nudging my nose with his as he toyed with my lips. “You’ve had months. You’re not turning me away again, Carly.” He kissed me harder, his hand circling one breast and squeezing it tight. “I’ve got to be inside you.”

It was all I wanted. I could practically feel him as my muscles contracted, still haywire after four massive orgasms. “Eli, no.”

“Why not?” he persisted as he kissed me. “Why fight it, if it’s what we both want?”

I could barely hear his soft words over the thunderous pounding of my heart. “Because it’s not real,” I managed.

“It’s not?” he asked as he rubbed that rock hard body against me. “Feel me, Carly. Feel I want you. For real,” he added.

I groaned. What was he doing to me? “For now,” I corrected, trying to remember that long list I used to have, of reasons why I could never let myself sleep with Eli Blake. “What happens in January?”

He growled in frustration. “It’s June. Why do we have to worry about that now?”

My heart fell. As much as he wanted to fuck me, he still couldn’t promise me anything beyond that damnable contract.

“We could have the best year of our lives, Carly. It doesn’t have to be a lie.”

Using what strength I had left, I pushed him over to the side. “Then how come it is?” I muttered before I grabbed my clothes and escaped into the bathroom. I slid down the door and used my weight to brace against it when he came knocking, which he did mere seconds later.

“Carly, what the hell is wrong with you?”

I shook my head, though he couldn’t see. “You thought I had forgotten the wager,” I said instead. “You were just trying to win.”

“I was just trying to make love to you,” he growled. He tried the handle. Then he knocked into the door with what sounded like his shoulder. His voice quieted. “Let me in.”

“No.”

“Carly. Open the door.”

“No!”

“What are you doing to me?” he exploded as he slammed his fists against the door so hard I thought he might burst through completely. “You work me up and then shut me out. One of these days you’re going to slam the door shut and I won’t bother trying to knock it down.”

My eyes closed. So did my throat. “I know.”

“Fine,” he growled. “I’ll go get the fucking screwdriver.”

I could hear him stomp out of the bedroom, and I was scared shitless that he’d make good on his threat. I didn’t move from that spot, afraid if I didn’t use my weight to brace the door he’d break in. And if he broke in, I’d be defenseless. If he picked me up in those arms and carried me to that bed, I’d fuck that man despite all my common sense screaming at me not to.

I wanted him. My body still hummed with the pleasure I had found at the tip of his tongue. I could feel imprint of his erection against me. All I wanted was to open myself to him, let him inside, and forget where I ended and he began. The longer it took for him to make good on his threat, the more I worried that he wouldn’t need that screwdriver to open the door. I’d throw it open myself and launch right into those arms, even if it meant I lost everything.

He didn’t come back in five minutes, or even ten. After a while, I wondered if maybe he had left the house entirely like had done several times before. Would he do that with Gabby there?

Curiosity got the better of me and I opened the door. The bedroom was empty. The bed was still askew. I fixed my top as I made my way quietly from the room. I went to the kitchen first, because I figured that was the most logical place. We kept a small tool box under the sink. I opened the cabinet to see if it was still there. It was, so I moved it to see if I could find the screwdriver. Instead I found some wrappers that had been concealed by the small red box. My brow knit as I retrieved them for closer inspection. They were candy wrappers, and some were old enough that ants had crawled inside.

It all felt painfully familiar. So much so I left the wrappers where they were, as not to alert whoever might be leaving them behind that they had been uncovered.

That was familiar too.

I headed towards the stairs. I could hear Eli’s voice, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. The tone was warm, though, and comforting. As I reached the hallway, I spotted the open bathroom door with light spilling out from inside. There Gabby was hunched over the toilet, with Eli bathing her face. “Is everything okay?”

His eyes met mine. They briefly scanned my body with a hunger I knew hadn’t yet abated, but other priorities took precedence. “Gabby’s sick. Too many rides at the park.” He continued to bathe her pale face. I took quick inventory of the room, noting the toothbrush that sat on the side of the tub next to the toilet.

Because where else would you keep a toothbrush?

I just nodded anyway, yet another lie.

“I think I’m going to stay upstairs with her,” he said. I could tell he was still mad. Or frustrated. Or both. And now he was worried about his sister, too.

“Of course,” I said, and left it at that.

I didn’t voice my concerns until the next morning, when I called Clem at the earliest convenience. Eli hadn’t come back to our room, so I had privacy. I knew I’d need it. She listened quietly as I voiced my concerns.

“Are you sure you’re not just projecting?” she asked in the gentlest, most loving way possible. “She
did
eat a lot of junk yesterday. And she rode the bigger rides. Twice,” she added for emphasis.

“Maybe,” I said. “But the toothbrush…”

I could almost hear Clem shrug. “Maybe she was brushing her teeth and gagged, then forgot to drop it when she ran to the toilet. Was it there the first time?”

I scowled in frustration. “I can’t remember. But what about the wrappers?” I persisted. “She can eat whatever she wants. Why does she need to hide anything?”

“How can you be so sure it’s her? Maybe it’s the cleaning lady.”

I sighed. She was right. Maybe I
was
projecting. “Maybe. I guess. I don’t know.”

“Keep an eye on it,” Clem advised. “You know the warning signs better than anyone.” She was quiet for a moment, and then asked the question I had been dreading. “Did you tell Eli about Wyatt?”

“No, and I never will.”

“Carly,” she started, but I was quick to cut her off.

“I gotta go,” I said, and then disconnected before she could say any more. I hoped beyond hope that I was wrong about Gabby, because I would have to intervene. I’d have to tell Eli what was going on. And I’d have to tell him how I know.

That wasn’t going to happen. Ever.

So I began my covert mission instead, paying special attention to those things that had previously stuck in my head but I had dismissed, like Gabby’s frequent showers. I also watched her food consumption. Though she wasn’t technically overweight, rather just dealing with some leftover baby pudge that just hadn’t figured out where yet to settle, her food habits were indeed peculiar. On a normal day she avoided food, like skipping breakfast or eating a really light lunch. By the time dinner rolled around, she had a voracious appetite, and no wonder. She had been starving her body all day. She drank a lot of water, and took handfuls of pills that, when asked, she swore were vitamin supplements.

I stopped myself just short of going through her room to make sure.

But that very next day followed a similar pattern. She opted to avoid breakfast, claiming her stomach still hadn’t recovered from the night before. Eli encouraged her to eat some oatmeal or something bland and substantial, but she said she was still too nauseated to think of food.

Yet by early afternoon I found two more candy wrappers, stashed behind the tool box.

Clem came over shortly after, bringing Jonathan and Leah with her. This gave the kids some cover to hang out on the beach without being busted by the paparazzi, who had so far been fooled by my strategic plan. Clem and I donned our bathing suits to join them, so Eli followed suit. He was still pretty mad at me for the night before, so there was tension in the air. His jaw clenched as he scoped me out in my two-piece. Maybe he felt like I was teasing him, which is essentially what I had been doing this entire time. I hadn’t planned it to work that way. But every time he made a move, I was less and less averse to it, sometimes letting it get way out of hand before I came to my senses.

Like the night before, for example. My body still hummed like a neon sign when I thought about it. Having his mouth and his hands on my body, knowing just where to touch, just what to do, until I was mush under him… it was so much more than I could have ever dreamed. I had dismissed him as an asshole, assuming this meant he really had no skills. Why would he need them, especially looking like he looked? Women would have climbed him like a jungle gym; he wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.

It was clear he had learned where to put his finger, and his tongue, and his mouth… and whatever else sprang to attention whenever he’d kiss someone like he kissed me.

I shuddered again. He was one talented asshole.

Clem clearly sensed the tension between us, but said nothing. She said nothing about Gabby, either, though I could tell she was watching her with renewed interest. Thanks to Jonathan, who was quick to engage with her and make her feel welcome and accepted, Gabby stayed in control all night.

Then dinner came. The kids decided we should eat pizza, and each had their own preferences for the pies. Eli, ever the gracious host, bought four different pizzas to accommodate everyone’s particular taste, which we served in the media room so the kids could keep playing their video games.

In between kicking Jonathan’s butt, I watched Gabby grab four slices of pizza throughout the night. Two more were missing by the time I consolidated the boxes to store the leftovers in the fridge.

I stayed up late after everyone left that night. When Gabby went to bed around ten, Eli called it an early night too. I opted to watch some mindless TV. Basically I was waiting to hear the shower, which finally turned on around midnight. I crept silently up the stairs and padded over to the bathroom door. I craned my neck, putting my ear against the door.

My stomach dropped when I heard the violent retching noises through the thick wood.