Page 112 of Those Who Are Bound

“Just go,” she said, her heart plummeting into her stomach, disappointed.

“I’m here for you.” He dropped to his knees, anchoring himself to the ground, unwilling to be moved.

“Are you? If she hadn’t called you, you never would have known. What, did she tell you I had a meltdown? Scared her? Had a psychotic break?”

Jonah frowned, shaking his head. “She was worried.”

Fidgeting with the bottle resting between her legs, she continued to stare over him, shaking her head in small movements. “I get that it was inappropriate, and I need to apologize, but that’s between her and me. It’s not fair for her to use the threat of you against me.”

“That’s not what this is.”

Elliott shifted, prepared to move off the stump and walk away, but Jonah held on to her legs, running his hands up over her knees and onto her thighs. She sucked in a breath and grasped his wrists, stopping him from moving farther, although the pulse at her core jumped in anticipation.

“If you’re struggling with something…”

“I’m not struggling!” she insisted in a harsh whisper, ducking her head as she tried to push his hands away.

“What happened?” he asked gently, not relinquishing his hold on her.

“I’m not weak. I don’t need this attention.”

Jonah’s look was reproachful. He tilted his head so she would meet his gaze, but she looked away with determination. “You’re not weak. You’ve been strong on your own for too long; I think you’ve forgotten how to lean on someone.”

“I don’t need anyone.”

“Everyone does,” he countered. “It’s a basic need. We need one another. We choose who we lean on, who we draw strength from when we need it; let me be that for you. I want to be that for you.”

Elliott shook her head and repeated. “I don’t need it.”

Jonah leaned over and kissed her knee. Her leg twitched; she sucked in air. He took the bottle from her hands and set it aside as he moved his lips to the inside of her thigh. Her hands, with nothing else to hold, moved to the thick waves of his dark hair.

Elliott watched as he slid his hands along the outside of her thighs to her buttocks; felt the burn his touch left. She ground her teeth and trembled as his mouth moved slowly up the inside of her left thigh; her head dropped back. She wondered if he could tell how drenched she was for him, from his simple kisses marching up her leg.

But before reaching his goal, he stopped, his breath as bated as hers, his forehead resting against her stomach. His fingers gripped her flesh at her haunches as he requested, “Tell me about the rope.”

Aroused, Jonah’s head in her hands—practically between her legs—and him asking about rope, her eyes teared over.

Lifting his head, he looked up at her. “You said you had a complicated history.”

Elliott looked down at him for a moment before she shook her head, using one hand to caress his cheek before correcting him. “I said a complicated relationship.”

Jonah watched her expectantly.

Elliott shook her head. “I can’t.”

He gently squeezed her flesh. “What can I do to prove that I’m not going to walk away?”

Her heart somersaulted even as her stomach dropped. “I’m not asking for you to prove anything. This isn’t a test; please don’t think it is. I’m not trying to challenge you. I just… some things…” She paused, focusing on her fingers as she ran them through his hair. “I’m not your problem. This isn’t your problem. I’m sorry she involved you, that you thought you had to come out here.”

“Why does it seem like we keep having this conversation?”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re hurting.”

Elliott looked away, arching her back as though to relieve tension, her hands falling away from him. She looked around and said sarcastically, “Okay.”

“Elliott.”

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