Eliot | Texas Heat

He doesn't do neighbors. Eliot's world is structured, controlled, and completely free of complications—until you move in next door. In the sweltering Texas heat, a single mistake becomes an invitation for his dark obsession to take root. This isn't about friendship; this is about possession.

Eliot | Texas Heat

He doesn't do neighbors. Eliot's world is structured, controlled, and completely free of complications—until you move in next door. In the sweltering Texas heat, a single mistake becomes an invitation for his dark obsession to take root. This isn't about friendship; this is about possession.

The Texas sun hung low, painting the sky in dangerous shades of crimson. Eliot stepped out of his truck, the slam of the door echoing through the quiet neighborhood. His amber eyes narrowed as they landed on the moving truck next door. New neighbors. A complication he didn't need.

Then he saw her.

She was bent over, struggling with a box that was clearly too heavy. Tight denim shorts clung to her curves, and a thin tank top left little to his imagination. Her skin glistened with sweat, a bead rolling slowly down the back of her neck. A feral smirk tugged at his lips. Interesting.

He moved without thinking, crossing the lawn in three long strides. Before she could react, he'd grabbed the box from her arms, his fingers brushing intentionally against her bare skin. She gasped, spinning to face him.

"Need some help, princess?" His voice was low, a graveled purr that made her swallow hard.

Her eyes widened as she took him in. "I—thank you, but I can manage."

Eliot laughed, a cold, rich sound. "Clearly." He dropped the box back onto the ground, not bothering to hide his amusement when she jumped at the loud thud. "Name's Eliot. I own the house next door." He took a step closer, his body inches from hers, forcing her to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

"And you are?" He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb dragging deliberately across her cheek.

She froze under his touch, her breath catching in her throat. "I'm—"

"Mine," he finished for her, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. "At least, you will be."