Page 152 of Those Who Are Bound

Elliott

ElliottgrippedJonah’sleatherjacket as he pulled into the gravel lot of the campsite. One bright orange van with signage was in the lot, and a few people were standing next to it. Lucy looked relieved to see them and was waving, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

She looked amazing, like a pin-up, in her broad sun hat and red cover-up, blond hair flowing over her shoulders. Next to her stood a bear of a man with a beard, who was also tracking their progress.

Jonah motored up to them and idled, setting his feet down.

Lucy gave him a look between annoyance and relief. “You’re never late! I was worried!”

Elliott caught Jonah’s attention in his sideview mirror; they knew why they were late. It hadn’t been the sex itself. He’d stalked down the hallway after her, trapping her as she’d closed her dresser drawer. With a look exchanged inthatmirror in silent agreement that had lasted a nanosecond, she found herself bent over the furniture.

He’d pistoned hard into her, their energy creating a small earthquake as she’d braced against the bureau. Her coffee had splashed everywhere: on her, the dresser, and the floor. The mess added to the thrill of him watching her in the mirror, his breath in her ear, and the knee-weakening strokes of his cock as he powered into her.

The cleanup was what had taken time. It’d been worth it, his desire for her stark and raw and consuming. His need overpowering his control and sense of responsibility. Even Lucy’s anxious expression now couldn’t temper the flipping of her heart as she recalled the morning’s deliciously physical activities.

“We’ll put our stuff away and be right back.” Jonah shifted and motored them to a tent, parked, and nodded for her to dismount. “Gear off.”

Elliott looked at the shelter and wriggled out of her gear, crazily turned on by the command. To distract herself from herfreaking never-ending needfor him, she wondered how he knew which tent was theirs; it didn’t matter, but in the mess of nylon and polyester structures, they all looked the same. She hoped she’d remember which one it was when they returned. Handing over her items, he unceremoniously tossed their things inside and zipped it up.

Despite his urgency to get back to the waiting group, he smiled at her. It relaxed her; although the morning had been incredible—again, and always totally worth it—she’d been uneasy about being late, as though everyone could guess the reason, but he didn’t seem bothered. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her after him as they headed toward the bright bus.

Jonah was all grins as he approached the group, slapping men on the shoulders and nodding at the women. Lucy squinted suspiciously at him before she met Elliott’s eye and raised a brow, indicating her amusement. Elliott had to hand it to Lucy for knowing her friend’s moods well enough to sense when he’d just gotten laid.

Giving her a playful shove, Elliott climbed onto the bus behind her.

The happy, excited people quickly became laser-focused on the ride to the launch, trying to assess in a short amount of time who she was and how she and Jonah had met. The usual questions were asked: she and Jonah answered easily, goofy grins shared between the two of them as they recollected events from a few short weeks ago.

And then the bomb dropped: “I expect we’ll see you at church more since you’re local.”

Jonah, sitting sideways on the bench to face the group, reached out and placedhis hand on her stomach, as though to keep her from propelling out of her seat. He glanced over at her. She looked back accusingly. Accusingly, because she’d predicted this moment: the expectation they’d have of the woman he’d bring into his life.

Jonah answered gently, giving a slight shake of his head, “Everyone has a different relationship with God; it doesn’t always require the formality of a church.”

Elliott’s brows nearly disappeared into her hairline as she stared at him. That was thebroadestinterpretation he could have given for her lack of belief. And while she didn’t want to launch into a dialogue on this bus with these people, she was disappointed that he left open the ability for them to assume she was religious. It told her that he was embarrassed; ashamed.

As he looked back at her, she turned her head away and looked at the passing scenery. His thumb caressed her stomach; whether it was meant to earn her attention again, to apologize, or assure, she didn’t know.

There were a few seconds of awkward silence before Lucy asked with forced cheerfulness, “Shari and Justine, how is the adoption process going?”

“Adoption?” Jonah asked.

The other passengers erupted into various stages of excitement, encouragement, and curiosity. The prospective parents relayed their frustrations over the adoption process.

“The church has a program for that; we can help you. How come I didn’t know about this?” Jonah asked, his voice stern, as though he personally would take up the gauntlet.

Elliott smiled as she watched the passing greenery, her heart swelling for this man. The little jaunt to the launching site was only ramming home for her the necessity of leaving him after tomorrow. He wasso good, but a part of her wanted nothing more than to destroy that in him.

It wasn’t a matter of shrugging it off; it was her nature. She could have ridden it out if he had maintained the status quo of who she’d thought him to be, but this… this man, she wanted to break. Break, then walk away. Better for him that she walked away before; better for them both. Because she wanted to leave him whole.

Another eruption of excitement in the vehicle preceded the lurching turn down a driveway. They’d arrived at the launch site.

Amidst the practicalities of sorting out people, coolers, canoes, and instructions, Elliott was able to avoid Jonah’s searching gaze. He reached for her more than once, but she dodged him as she pretended to assist Lucy with nonsensical tasks. She knew he was bothered by her avoidance, and she also knew it wasn’t something she could ignore when she was going to be in a canoe with him all day, but for the moment, she’d let him simmer in his discomfort.

Punish him.

He caught up to her at the canoe, however, as she tossed in a backpack he’d prepared for her. Lucy had handed it to her moments ago, informing her that it had been brought down the night before with everyone else’s stuff: sunscreen, a hat, an extra water bottle, a small towel, a brush, and a hair tie. She’d been impressed that he’d thought of the hair tie; touched. Damn him.

That’s when he was suddenly in front of her, one hand grasping her arm, the other at her neck, under her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. He was concerned, serious, and a bit irritated. The combination of his hand around her neck and that borderline thunderous expression on his face made her pussy clench.

---