Page 49 of Sizzle

“Worried about you,” I say. “And why are you asking me, anyway? Don’t you guys live together?”

From out of nowhere, heat creeps up into his cheeks.

“I haven’t seen him much lately,” says Elliot, looking away.

“Me neither,” I say. Elliot laughs, and the sound steals my breath from my lungs. He really should laugh more. “Why isn’t it weird?” I ask him, hoping he’ll know what I mean, because I don’t have the right words to explain myself.

We don’t have time for this conversation. Not here and certainly not right now. But I can’t help it. I know Alex’s why. I need to know Elliot’s.

Elliot looks at me, a world of emotion in his eyes. Heat and sadness. Yearning. And most of all, confusion, which puzzles me further.

“I’m not sure, sunshine.”

“But it’s not, is it?” I press. “It should be weird, but it’s not.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not weird.”

I’m not sure if I should push further without Alex here to back me up, but I don’t know when I’ll get him alone like this again. So I take a deep breath and just say it.

“Alex thinks we should try again. All three of us this time.”

Elliot sits up slowly, the office chair creaking as he shifts.

“Alex thinks so, huh?” he asks. Elliot takes my hand and tugs, throwing me off balance just enough that I’m halfway to bent across his lap over the arm of the chair. He slides a hand into my hair and tips my head back, forcing me to look up at him.

“Yes.”

“What exactly is it that Alex thinks we should try?”

“Maybe you should ask him yourself,” I say with a lot more bravado than I feel.

That smirk returns in force and my thighs begin to quiver.

“What makes you think I haven’t?”

Visions of the two of them flash through my head. I’m gasping for air before I can stop it.

“Christ, sunshine,” says Elliot. His hand tightens in my hair, chasing another thrill down my spine. “The look on your face. Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

Someone in the universe is looking out for me right now, because another five seconds and I was going to beg him for something, anything. To touch me, to let me touch him, to suck him off. Anything.

Instead, the clatter of pans hitting the floor brings me to my senses and I shove myself off him, rising to my feet.

Elliot stands more slowly, adjusting the prominent erection I’d been seconds away from getting my hands around. He groans, and I realize he’s watching me stare.

“I can’t leave yet,” he says, turning his back to me and bracing his hands on the desk. He breathes deeply, clearly searching for calm. He’s not talking about this room.

“I know,” I tell him, clasping my hands to keep from running them over his broad shoulders. “The party.”

“Are you staying?”

“I don’t think—”

“You should stay,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s every bit as much your party as it is mine.”

“Are you sure? Even with...” I wave vaguely at the air between us.

Elliot laughs again, and this time it sounds pained.