Floundy and the new guy, Sean, seemed to hit it off. Sean was sweet enough to try and keep me involved in the conversation, even though I found myself drifting in and out of it, despite my best efforts to keep up. As much as I wanted to be an awesome wingwoman, my head was somewhere else entirely. When Sean went to get us another round of drinks, Floundy leaned over the table and looked at me with concern.
“Are you doing all right?”
I nodded and then shook my head. “Honestly, I just really miss Elliott right now,” I admitted and then quickly put on a smile. The last thing I wanted after all the time Floundy had spent running after me was for him to feel like I was shitting all over his good time. I owed him a decent night out at my expense, and I didn’t want to bring him down, now that he’d actually met someone he seemed to like.
“But I’m glad to be out with you.” I nudged myself into his side, and he grinned.
“I’m glad to be out at all,” he said, smiling as Sean returned to the table. He quickly leaned over to finish up our chat.
“But if you need me or need some space, you just let me know and I’m there,” he promised.
I squeezed his knee beneath the table. He would never know how much it meant to me that he was so willing to put me first. I needed to be a better friend to him, and I would be, starting now.
The night drew to a close, and Sean and Floundy left the club hand in hand. I made my way outside to find Claude, trudging toward the man who’d become an eternal shackle around my neck. But, of course, just to add insult to injury, I spotted a camera flash out of the corner of my eye, and my stomach dropped.
“Aria!” a man’s voice called to me. “Aria Triton!”
I glanced over my shoulder. I knew better than to give these guys the time of day, but when they were pointing a damn camera in my face, it was hard not to pay some kind of attention to them. I hated giving them any notice but what really pissed me off was how much money could make off those photos. Someone from the club must have tipped him off that I was here tonight. I clenched my fists at my sides and kept on walking, but before he could get another shot off, Claude emerged from the darkness and stepped between us.
“On your way,” he droned to the camera guy, his voice deep, serious and not messing around.
The paparazzo pouted up at him but tucked his camera away and turned to go on his way. Thank God. I slipped into the back seat of the car and pressed my forehead against the window, glancing at Claude as he climbed into the front seat. He paused, as though waiting for me to say something, but I kept my mouth firmly shut. It may have been childish, but as long as I was being treated like a child, I didn’t see why I should act any differently.
We started to drive home, and my mind went to Elliott. I couldn’t get away from him. He was always there in the back of my head, making himself known, impossible to ignore or escape. I wanted one night where I wasn’t tortured by the memory of him, where I could make new memories with him.
I closed my eyes tight and pictured him, trying to draw him so perfectly that he would just drop into my life and appear in front of me. But I couldn’t. He was still all the way over in Sand Dollar Beach, and I was still here in this city without him. I never felt lonelier in my life.
I was frustrated, too. Because the make-out in the library had been hot as hell, and yet, I couldn’t do anything about it. I wanted more, and if it hadn’t been for the two of us getting caught before, I might have gone for it. It would’ve been a stupid idea, but I felt drunk on desire when I was around him and wanted nothing more than to give myself to him. We’d only had sex a handful of times, and each time was better than the last. I was already hooked on him.
We arrived home, and Claude opened the door for me. I muttered a thank you, and then hurried up the stairs to my room to strip out of my party clothes. Immediately, I ran a hot bath.
I locked the door and slipped into the water. The last thing I needed was someone disturbing me right now. The water was soft, warm, and welcoming against my skin. I slipped my hand between my legs and swiftly found my clit. I let out a gasp as I touched myself, thinking about Elliott. I hadn’t had a lot of time to myself recently, and I was more than happy to indulge myself, now that I had the chance.
I imagined how far we would have gone in the library. Maybe he would have picked me up and slammed me against the bookshelves? Pushing my dress up and tossing my panties aside, he would have slid into me in one long, smooth motion. I rubbed circles around my clit, the pressure building.
He would have had to force his fingers into my mouth to keep me quiet, giving me something to suck on. Maybe he’d kiss me to keep me silent. Either way, he’d have fucked me deep and hard, moving in long, slow strokes like my fingers were doing now.
My toes curled at the thought of him. I could practically feel him inside me. His hands worked their way up and down my body, his breath warm against my skin as he took me. He’d look at me with that half-tender, half-eager expression he reserved exclusively for when he fucked me.
I played with my clit harder, plunging my fingers inside. My pussy was clenching around my fingers, ready to explode. I imagined Elliott leaning down to my ear telling me to come around his dick. Fuck, this feels good.
My body wiggled and rocked against the tub walls, my fingers frantically working my clit as bursts of lights flashed behind my eyes.
I cried out, the sound echoing off the tile walls around me, as my orgasm burst out of my fantasy and into my reality.
I relaxed into the bath and let the waves of it wash over me, happily losing myself to the pleasure. The water was perfect, the steam filled the room, and I could pretend I was back on the beach, far, far removed from everything that came with this life.
Elliott and I were back together, and we had all the time in the world for each other and our pleasure.
It might have been nothing more than a fantasy, but I could convince myself that soon enough, it would be my reality.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Elliott
I paced back and forth, feeling like I was back at the library again, but this was different. Aria didn’t know I was back in LA tonight, and I was looking forward to surprising her. I just had to get past one little roadblock first.
As I drove Tucker’s car, now my temporary home, I saw the city spread out below me, but I didn’t care about any of the clubs or the bars or the girls tonight. No, I had a laser-focused vision. I was going one place and one place only, the Oyster Pearl. An art gallery in the expensive part of town. I was sure I’d been there when I’d wandered around LA before. Aria’s father was throwing a big, fancy event there tonight, and I had every intention of getting in and making myself known. I needed to talk to him, to Aria, and I wasn’t going to let anything stop me.
I parked and walked to the entrance. Claude stood at the door giving the arrivals the once over. He hadn’t seen me yet, and I knew as soon as he did, I’d be out on my ass. But there was no time like the present, and I had to try. Dozens of swanky people dressed accordingly had breezed by him without earning so much as a second glance. I hoped the sheer size of the event distracted him enough that he wouldn’t notice me sliding in past him. I marched up to the door before I had a chance to overthink things, but before I could brush on by him, his arm flashed out to stop me.