Page 42 of Elusive

Chapter 15

Sutton

I don’t waste a single, goddamn second of her defenses down, consuming her, making damn sure she feels me in her toes. Swallowing her sweet whimper, groaning in response, I burrow a hand deep in her hair, the other clutching her neck. She opens wider, plastering herself against my chest, unashamed for anyone, everyone, to see her surrender… to me. Only me. The one man who can draw out the sometimes sweet, soft side of Presley Beckett — the queen of elusiveness.

I, Sutton Ellis, give her the safety she needs to abandon her post.

Everyone is created with purpose, many of them, but one, above all others, is the purpose, the foundation, the trunk… from which all other branches stem.

It’s not insane. Premature. Or lust-fogged thinking.

It’s certainty. And whole acceptance.

Myultimate meaning is to show Presley the endless depth of hers.

I back us toward the railing, out of the light and open view, so I can touch her, pull her completely into our space, but she jerks away. Dammit, Sutton, you just had to fucking move.

And even in the face of my disappointment at the abrupt change in plans, I can’t help but admire hers. So damn gorgeous. Flushed cheeks, swollen lips and eyes wild with desire, I stare in wonder as we catch our breath; thinking how, though I’d love for her to give to me freely all the time… a treasure’s true value lies within its rarity.

“Why aren’t you at work? My dad was just bragging on you not too long ago, how you never call in, now you’ve missed two nights in a row.”

“It’s fine, I told him it was all your fault.”

“Shouldn’t have, he won’t believe it.”

“You’re probly right. Good thing I was kidding,” I laugh. “Swapped a couple shifts with Jason. Your dad doesn’t care who works, only that somebody does. Got it covered.”

“You better not have switched for Friday, you owe me a date. And this, tonight, does not count as a date,” she gripes… because, she showed me, for a few fleeting moments, her inside… so now she’s just got to put that damn armor of hers back up on the outside.

But I’m well-versed in her tactics, and thoroughly enjoy weaving my way through her maze, so I play along. “Why not?”

“Oh, please,” she scoffs. “All those big thoughts, bigger words, smooth tongue of yours, you need the answer about as bad as I need a lesson in sarcasm. You’re lucky, given our current locale, that there’s not a damn thing better to talk about, so I’ll play too.” She smirks and tosses me a wink. “A date, so I’ve been told, is this thing where a guy picks a girl up and takes her somewhere. Out. Planned by him. Paid for by him. Showing up at a lame ass party I’m already at doesn’t count.”

“Why we still standing here then? Let’s leave. I’ll drive you back to your place, wait a second, walk my happy ass to the door and take ya out. Anywhere you want to go, name the place.” She ducks her head to hide her smile, unsuccessfully, and I jump on the return of her playful mood, moving in closer. Bodies reconnected, spark instant and electric as though the first, I slip a finger under her chin and tilt her pretty face up to gain her eyes. “Presley, it is happening this time. We’re happening. Gonna be together, and it’s gonna be amazing. You’re stubborn as hell, but so am I, especially when it comes to you. Not giving up again, so settle in, Sugar.”

“We’re too young to settle, Sutton. Know what that really means? Boring! Stuck. Out of obligation, ethics, whatever. Miserably doing the right thing. Sexting turns into daily checks on what sounds good for dinner. Sex itself? Once a week, missionary, after the routine TV show ends. Guy gets comfortable, starts farting in front of her, she rocks her designated ‘rag panties’ out in the open and tells him all about her cramps, and they both feel free to poop with the door open! Why would you set that inevitable wheel in motion any sooner than you absolutely have to?”

Surprisingly, I don’t bust out laughing, too busy picking my jaw up off the ground. Just like every other time she’s eluded to this train of thought, I literally cannot fathom a single fucking reason why her vision’s so incredibly skewed. Not that I want to think about it, but I already have — no way in hell is her dad a “once-a-week, missionary” kinda guy… knowing him ten minutes tells ya that much… And her Uncle Dane? The man wears his sex-drive on his sleeve. She hasn’t grown up around bored, complacent couples as examples, so what gives?

“Presley, what you just described? Where’d that shit come from? A, it’s very exaggerated, and B, nothing you’d know anything about. C, it’s not ‘boring’ either. It’s life. Love. Stability. Absolute, unconditional comfort with another person.”

“Or, the perfect lil’ mantra people have to believe to stay, for the kids. Sutton, I-”

“FIGHT!” A piercing scream steals our focus… but I tuck her last two words away for later. I have to find out how that sentence ends.

“Where’d J and them go?” She panics, seeing that they’re no longer on the deck. “Sutton, where the hell are they?”

“Ellis! Need some help!” JT’s voice rings out, a panic in it too.

My first, immediate instinct’s already executed — I’ve got both arms cinched around Presley, holding her tight against me — but I’m torn on what to do next. Able to feel her safety, I allow myself to take my eyes off her and look in the direction JT called from, seeing mass, riotous grouping… but no JT, Brynny or Bellamy, specifically.

“Sutton, go, JT needs you!” Presley shrills, slapping my chest. “He’s in a fight, go! And find Brynny and Bellamy!”

Well, shit. Can’t let my man get jumped or outnumbered, do need to locate the girls, but what about my girl? Don’t wanna leave her alone either.

She reads my mind, and tries to put it at ease. “Sutton, seriously, I’m fine. Please, go. Go help my family!”

“Do. Not. Leave from this spot,” I demand, of Presley, waiting for her nod of promise before letting her go, which does not feel right at all, and hurdling the deck to sprint toward the circle of commotion in the yard. “Move,” I bark several times, shoving bodies aside, hoping none are girls, ‘til I reach the center of the storm and pick out JT. “The fuck, man?” I yell, needing info ASAP, unable to make heads or tails of what’s actually happening, what with the darkness, crowd, and mixture of cheers and shrieking.

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