Page 209 of Ominous: Part 1
I don’t look at Eli and I don’t speak to him, but his gaze on me is like a burn.
Dominic sniffs. “Okay,” he mutters, defeated. The adrenaline that had been in his system when he confronted Eli, then me, is probably fading fast in the wake of him beating the shit out of his own head against the wall. I slowly lower his hand and link my fingers through his other, tugging him toward the staircase, just a few feet from us.
“Come on,” I say, but he’s already shuffling forward without my prompting.
It’s only when we’re on the stairs, moving upward, my free hand gliding along the railing to propel me up, that I look to Eli.
His eyes lock on mine, and for a second, I pause, even as Dominic continues on, his hand pulling mine.
Eli has one arm crossed over his bare chest, his opposite elbow in hand, the knife’s blade tapping against his lips. He smiles beneath the blade.
You are so smart and so, so in trouble, nightmare girl.
It’s that kind of look.
I return his smile, then I continue escorting Dom up the stairs.
34
Eden
I creepout of one of the guest rooms in the Addison house, sparing one last glance at Dominic. He’s snoring softly, courtesy of the shots he knocked back while I cleaned his cut in the sink, then dried it with a towel, poured antiseptic over it, and used medical tape and a long, white bandage—of which there was plenty in the hall closet—to cover it. Really, probably all unnecessary things, but after I retrieved the vodka from downstairs and saw Eli was outside, the chef’s knife back in place in the knife block, I only wanted to kill time.
To calm Eli, and Dominic.
There’s a soft glow in the room from all the lights around the pool outside, no curtains in here, only wood shutters. Dominic is curled up on his side in the bed, and I’d watched him text his mom to let him know he was at a friend’s. He didn’t specify he was at Eli’s, and I’m grateful for it.
I pull the door closed softly, exhaling the smallest sigh of relief, but it’s short lived.
As soon as the door is closed, quiet echoing in the dim hallway,I sense him right behind me.
“That was awfully sweet of you.” His words are a whisper, and my heart ricochets in my chest, only rising faster as Eli comes closer, the barest amount of space between us.
But he doesn’t touch me.
I press my temple to the door, closing my eyes. “Was it?”
I feel his breath along my jawline as he leans in close to me. “The way you took care of him… You’re good, baby girl.”
Downstairs, I hear people laughing. Some of them, then, have come inside. I feel a flush of pleasure, knowing they’re all down there, and we’re… up here. Separated. I’m sure they’re imagining what we might be doing. The pleasure turns to smugness, and something else, thinking of Luna getting off to the thought of me and Eli fucking.
I try to push the lust aside enough to speak. “After you sliced him up, it really seemed like the least I could do.”
His mouth trails along the side of my throat, and my limbs feel heavy, craving his touch to make me weightless. I curl my fingers against the door, arching into him, wanting to feel him.
And I do. His erection presses against my low back, but he still doesn’t touch me with his hands.
“Did it?” he asks, his words rough.
I squeeze my thighs together, knowing I need to change my pad, maybe take out my tampon, all unsexy things that can’t be ignored much longer, but I try for now. “Yes,” I answer him. “I think I’ll spend a long time cleaning up your messes.” A smile pulls on my lips with the words, but I think I mean them.
There’s a moment of silence between us.
Then he asks, quietly, “Can I touch you?”
Warmth grows in my low belly at hisasking.I keep my eyes closed as I whisper, “Yes.”
Slowly, as if I’m something he’s trying to be careful with, his cold fingers come to the front of my throat, slowly tilting my chin up. A shiver runs through me, a flinch, but I don’t want him to let go.
