Evan knew, in his gut, that the moment that they touched in a serious way, the moment that his lips touched hers, they were going to be on a crash course that was going to end in the bedroom. And he knew, more than that, that she didn't have a problem with it. He knew that he needed to get it done. He knew all of these things, and he waited.
He ate the steaks he cooked. He watched the movie she picked. For a moment he even thought about letting her leave for the night, and picking it up next time. Because something about the whole thing gnawed at him in a way that he didn't know how to describe, except that he made himself nervous in a way that no girl had ever done to him.
In the end, it wasn't a logical decision that brought them together. It was his gut. He took her all the way to the door, and was fishing for his keys, when he looked her in the eyes, and the attraction was as much magnetic as it was her appearance.
His lips found hers and then his teeth found her lips, and then her teeth parted and their tongues found each other. His hands found her sides, pulled her shirt up, and discarded it to the side. Her underwear told him that she'd been seriously considering this possibility.
Evan Park had never been a man who needed to hurry when it came to sex. In this case, though, he didn't know that he had the self-control to spend the time admiring her bra as much as he knew he should. He pulled it aside and pulled a breast between his lips. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her up.
She let out a mewl of arousal when he held her against the wall, her feet not quite touching the ground. Her legs wrapped around his hips. They were still half-dressed and he was ready to find a way to skip the other clothes-shedding parts of the evening and get to the main event already. He grit his teeth and pushed against her. She pulled him against her hard.
"Fuck me," she growled into his ear. He pulled her away from the wall, bent her over, and peeled her jeans down her hips. Dana didn't seem like the kind of woman who, on a day-to-day basis, matched her panties and her bra. She'd apparently made a special effort today.
He knelt down and tasted her. She was ready, he was certain of that much. He forced himself to take his time, until she was starting to have trouble keeping her voice to herself. Then, when she was right on the edge and thinking very seriously about jumping off, he stopped.
That was a change of pace for him. He usually made it his habit to let the girl blast off at least once before he got to the sex, but there was something in his chest that was desperate in a way that he hadn't felt for years. He brought a hand down on her bottom, not hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to sting, though.
Dana yelped. In that moment, Evan pulled his trousers down and freed himself from the confines of his boxers. It had almost started to hurt with strain, and being free was incredibly comforting. Yet, when he finally entered her, it was tighter than it had ever been, and yet, so much sweeter.
He moved quick, hard. Took what he wanted. He wanted everything, and she gave it to him. He didn't stop until he was seconds away from completion, spilling himself on her hip. He reached over to the table and grabbed a napkin, cleaned her up a little bit. They could shower, he thought. But if she thought that she wasn't going to get any dirtier that night, she was sorely mistaken.
When she turned and pulled him into another kiss, as fiery as the first, it told him everything he needed to know: she didn't have any illusions about where this was going, and she didn't mind one bit.
Sleep came fitfully for Evan. Finally, when the clock on his phone told him that it was almost seven, he gave up entirely and slid out of bed. He looked down at Dana's sleeping form. If his nightly waking had disturbed her, she didn't show it. He padded out of the room. True to his word, Colin hadn't come back home. He let out a long breath. There was only one more thing that really needed to be done. He closed his eyes.
It wasn't like it meant anything. He would have done all this anyways, given enough time. It was just a little encouragement. Evan frowned. It sounded empty even to his own ears. But it didn't much matter. All he had to do now was decide how this was going to move forward, and if there was a future to be had then he just had to make sure never to mention any of it to Dana.
He sat down in the chair and tried to convince himself that it was fine. He grit his teeth together. Stood up. Stepped into the other room, and took a single photograph. It wasn't his usual habit to keep souvenirs. He never needed to. If a girl left that strong an impression, he just had to avoid blowing her off until he was done.
Then he turned, turned an eye of the stove on, cracked a few eggs, and started whisking them. The bacon sizzled and popped until it was finished. He pulled it off, dropped the eggs, and by the time they were coming off the heat, Dana was stepping out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes.
"What time is it?"
"Time to eat," he said. "Unless you wanted to sleep in some more."
"But what time would a clock tell me?"
He looked at the microwave. "Seven-thirty," he told her.
Dana nodded vaguely. "Yeah, okay."
"You have time to eat?"
"I have time to do whatever you want," she said. She slumped down in a chair. He almost smiled. Something was holding him back, though, and he hated it. He seasoned the eggs and put them on the table, and told himself to forget the whole thing.
Dana didn't need him taking her mood down with him.