"We can't keep doing this," I said for the millionth time this month.
I'd never imagined that what was supposed to be a one-night stand would turn into such a strange dynamic. Elliot rolled his eyes, and before I could comment on his sass, his lips were on mine, and I melted into his touch.
We met a few months ago at a local bar. I was having a rough night after dinner with my parents. He'd said he was a model, showing me a few magazine covers he'd done. We had a few drinks, and next thing I knew, I caught him trying to rob me after a night of intense lovemaking. Even after throwing him out, I couldn't stop thinking about him and the moment we'd shared. He was special, despite his bratty attitude. From the first night, he had control, and I found myself submitting. I tried to blame it on the alcohol until it happened again. This time, it was at a chic party where I spotted him serving champagne. I didn't resist the urge to pull him aside, and what started as a threat to call the police ended with him filling my mouth in the empty parking lot.
It had become a pattern I couldn't break, no matter how hard I tried. One kiss, and I was a helpless man, his hands all over me, my resolve slipping away.
"Elliot, wait."
He sighed and pulled away, giving me space to breathe and think—though I knew that would be impossible. He was shirtless, his blond curls messy, making him look ten times hotter. I couldn't stop staring at the smooth skin beneath his waistband, picturing how it would feel to run my tongue along it. I was a mess, and Elliot wasn't helping.
"What is it today?"
I rolled my eyes, but he didn't see as he walked away, swaying his hips to light a cigarette. I tried to collect my thoughts, looking at the tattoo on his back—a falling angel. I'd never asked about its meaning.
"We both know you're not supposed to be here. You're a thief—a beautiful one, sure, but still a thief."
He chuckled, taking a drag.
"Seriously? This again?"
We weren't even conventionally dating. There was no label for what we had. This man had tried to rob me, and yet here he was in my bedroom, again.
"Yes, this again. You tried to rob me the first night we met, and despite giving you a chance and not going to the police, you managed to rob me again."
For some reason, I still let him kiss me like a desperate puppy, and I was fooling myself thinking I could deny anything to him.
"It's just a watch," he said, moving his lips to my neck. "You have a drawer full of those overpriced things."
"It's not just a watch. That's not the point. You shouldn't steal from me..."
"And how else would I give you an excuse to call me back?" He asked, taking a step back again.
I watched him smoke, his soft lips mesmerizing.
"You don't need an excuse to come over."
He walked over to me, placing his hands on either side of the rail, trapping me. I leaned back as he caged me in, his body warm against mine. One look in his eyes, and I knew I'd lose this battle, just like I always did. I simply couldn't win against this man.
"No, but you do. Would you have called me tonight if I hadn't stolen from you?"
He took another drag and tossed the cigarette away, his gray eyes shining in the moonlight. I didn't want to admit it, but I knew he was right. Something about our relationship was both terrifying and thrilling. I tried to appear calm and assured, but underneath the mask, I was a coward—and Elliot had figured that out the first night, continuing to steal from me. This pickpocket had managed to steal my heart and soul, along with a few belongings, but he didn't seem to worry about that at all. It was all a game to him.
