Love Is Blind, I'm Not novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: No Pretending

His rented house was a brick bungalow four minutes from the yard.

One lamp was on in the front room and nothing hung on the walls.

Elliot got the door open with me already against his chest.

We didn't make it past the hall.

He backed me into the wall beside the coat hooks and kissed me until my knees stopped holding.

"Hands only," I said against his mouth. "I'd like it noted."

He laughed, low, and the sound went through me.

"Noted," he said. "Now I'd like it noted that I'm going to use my mouth too."

"You said that already."

"I'm saying it again so you know I mean it."

He pushed my coat off my shoulders and let it drop.

His hands found the zipper at the back of my aunt's green dress.

He drew it down one inch at a time, and the cold air touched my spine, and then his palm covered it.

I had not been touched like that in three years.

I had not been touched like that ever.

"Margot," he said into my neck. "Look at me."

I looked.

"Too fast?"

"No."

"Tell me if it is."

"It's not fast enough," I said, and pulled his shirt up over his head.

He was broad and lean through the chest, with pale scars across his ribs from some winter I knew nothing about.

I put my bandaged palm flat over his heart.

It was pounding.

"Bed," he said roughly.

"Yes."

He lifted me against him and carried me down the hall.

The bedroom had a mattress, a quilt and a window.

He set me on the edge of the mattress and knelt on the floor in front of me.

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