Page 90 of Drop Shot
He rolls over to face me, propping his elbow on the bed and his head in his hand. “Are you laughing at me?”
“I’m laughing at the situation,” I rebuke, trying not to stare at his bicep. Another giggle slips out of me at a particularly loud squeak. “Does he think we can’t hear?” I gesture to the door. “The walls are thin.”
Elias shakes his head. “I don’t know, but I do know I can’t stand that guy.”
My nose scrunches with annoyance at just the thought of Ebba’s boyfriend. He’s good looking in a commercial sort of way—too shiny and plastic-y for my taste. But every time he opens his mouth what comes out gives me a massive eye roll. He’s pretentious—a completely self-entitled asshole. What Ebba sees in him is beyond me.
“I can’t either. He’s a bit of a…”
“Prick?” Elias finishes for me. “He’s not even British so tell me why last night he said to me,you don’t mind if shower first, do yeh, mate?Like who fakes a British accent when they’re so obviously from Jersey.”
“Someone who doesn’t want to be from Jersey,” I point out.
The sound of the bed frame hitting the wall joins the squeaking.
Elias groans. “Keaton can pay for his own damn hotel. I’m not putting up with this shit for the rest of the trip.” I give him a look that says I don’t believe him and he sighs. “You’re right, I couldn’t do that to Ebba.”
Things finally silence in the other room and I expect Elias to quickly roll over to go to sleep, but instead he grins at me with a dimpled smile. “Want to give them a run for their money?”
“Huh?” I blurt out stupidly.
“Come on, Whim. We can do better than them.”
“I … what … d-do you mean?”
“We’ll fake it, obviously.” He sits up fully. “It’ll be funny. It’s their turn to be kept up.”
My cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “What do you want me to do?”
“Whatever feels right—moan, scream, sing my praises. We’ll rock the bed too. Really play into it.”
“I … are you sure?”
“Fuck, yes,” he answers. “I bet that dude passes out right after so it’s time for payback.”
He doesn’t wait for me to say anything else, just uses the weight of his body as he shifts back and forth to get the mattress squeaking.
“Moan,” he mouths to me.
“I can’t,” I protest quietly. “I’m not an actress.”
“Sit on my lap.”
“What? Why?”
He sighs. “Just trust me.”
Nerves have my entire body trembling as I climb onto his lap and straddle him. I’m thankful for the thick blanket between us, separating the intimate parts of our body.
Elias’s hands land on my hips, holding me steady as he rocks the bed. The motion is so similar to actual sex that I bite down on my lip to stifle a moan.
A moan.
Oh.
Now I see why he told me to get on his lap. He knew it would get to me.
“Let it out, baby,” he croons, one hand sliding along the side of my neck. He angles my head back and I gasp when I feel his lips on my throat. My skin there is extra sensitive, and I shiver in his hold.
