Page 131 of Those Who Are Bound

“This. Us. Expectations.”

“You’re putting too much pressure onthis.Us. The expectations? Nothing’s changed. From Saturday to today… other than finding out about my side hustle, what’s changed?”

Elliott picked up the coffee cup. She gave him a narrow look over the rim of the mug. She needed an infusion first. After satisfyingthatparticular addiction, she pointed out, “It’s not asidehustle. You aren’t selling needlepoint on Etsy.”

He fought a smile.

“This isn’t funny,” she insisted.

“It’s a little funny,” he said, batting his lashes sweetly at her.

He wasn’t playing fair at all, standing gorgeously half-naked in her kitchen with his pretty gemstone eyes, saying words that made the girl inside of her swoon.

But the demon salivated. Ready to tear into him, and not in a good way.

“As much as I would love to continue the verbal sparring, I need to get to the shop.” He wagged his eyebrows at her. “Shower with me?”

If she’d been wearing panties, they’d be soaked. Or incinerated. But she shook her head, tearing her gaze from his as she cradled her mug. Hating him. Hating him for making her not hate him at all.

He sighed. “All right, then.” He walked around the counter.

She side-eyed him as he approached. Stepping up behind her, he hugged her back to him with a hand on her stomach, caressing, setting off flutters and heart palpitations. He kissed her above her ear and murmured, “Enjoy your coffee.” He stepped away, continuing down the hall.

Her heart hurt. Of everything that had happened in the past eighteen hours, his stepping away was the most painful.

Jonah: I’ll be there at two. Be dressed.

Elliott:*middle finger emoji*

Technically, he’d forewarned her. And maybe that was why, when he pounded on her door at two in the afternoon, she was still wearing a T-shirt and panties, clinging to her coffee. He regarded every inch of her, his jaw tensed—not in anger—and his beautiful eyes collided with hers.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. As if she didn’t know. As if the emoji had sent itself.

“I told you to be ready.”

“You weren’t specific.”

He scanned her body again. “Biking, the non-motorized type. If I need to change you, though…”

A dangerous thrill ripped through her at his threat. He was not acting like a holy man. But she slammed her coffee mug into his chest, causing him to both grasp the porcelain and jump back to keep from getting sloshed. “Fine,” she huffed. Although, secretly, she hoped he stomped after her and followed through on his threat.

Jonah, however, had a plan, and he consistently confounded her by being able to resist immediate temptation. Resisther.Yes, it was an arrogant thought, but what dude wouldn’t rather nut, then go? Jonah, that’s who. Master of self-discipline.

It was a bit of a turn on, actually. It also drove her inner demon into a frenzy, wanting to break him of that assurance, that control; to see him humbled. Point of distinction:shedidn’t want that, but some broken, horrible thing inside her did. Which was why she needed to end this.

Damn him. She was supposed to be pulling away. She returned to the front room in a pair of black leggings with mesh cut-outs on the sides, a white sports bra, and a loose tank that she tied in front. Jonah was standing by the front door still, sans coffee cup.

“Where’s my coffee?”

“You need to be drinking water.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You woke up this morning and chose violence.”

His look of exasperation would have been more effective if he wasn’t grinning back at her. “You know how I woke up this morning.”

Gah, his expression had a direct effect on her pussy.

“C’mon, jungle cat, let’s go.” He shoved open the door, waiting for her.

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