Evan

There are times when I readily admit that my dick gets the best of me. That’s not what happened tonight. I want Chloe to see where I live. I need her to understand that I value her and I can’t convey that if I keep taking her to cheap motels for sex.

I can’t do that anymore. I knew before I met her at the Roasting Point Café that I’d ask her back here.

My heart skips a beat when we walk through the door and into the apartment. I know it’s not a palace by any means. She doesn’t strike me as the type to judge.

“It’s cold.” She tugs her coat tighter around her. “Did you leave a window open?”

I huff out a laugh. “I turned the heat down when I left.”

She nods as she watches me cross the room to adjust it. “I do that too sometimes. I figure why should I heat an empty space? It makes no sense, right?”

How the fuck is she so perfect for me?

“I’d rather use the savings to buy you a dozen pink roses.” I point out a bouquet sitting atop my kitchen table. I put them in a large beer glass that I cleaned up and filled with water. “I was hoping you’d say yes when I asked you to come here.”

Her gaze volleys between the roses and my face. “Those are for me?”

I nod. “I tracked your brother down at his gym one morning. It’s fucked up. I know it is but I needed to know what flowers you liked.”

She moves to the table and bends down to smell the roses. “These are beautiful. I can’t believe you had them here waiting for me. You knew I’d come home with you, didn’t you?”

“I hoped.” I stalk toward her. “I’ll never assume anything with you, Chloe. I like that you’re unpredictable.”

She gifts me with a small smile. “You think I’m unpredictable?”

Our eyes meet and hold for a beat. It feels like time stops. “I think you’re incredible.”

“I think that about you too.” She narrows the space between us with a few short steps. “I like your apartment, Dr. Evan.”

“I love that you’re standing in it.”

She perches on her tiptoes to give me a soft kiss. “Take me to your bed.”

***

His big body hovers over me as he fucks me with long, leisurely strokes.

We’ve been in his bed for hours. I took him in my mouth before he was even able to get completely undressed. He didn’t come. He stopped me by pulling me up to my feet and pushing me onto the dark sheets.

That’s when he removed my clothing, piece-by-piece. It was torturous when he rained kisses over my skin. He moaned through words of appreciation for the shape of my breasts and my hips.

I begged him to fuck me because I was so wet from his touch and those words.

When he sheathed himself and entered me, it felt like my chest caved in. There was a burst of something unfamiliar. It might have been fondness or more, but it was everything in that second.

“I could stare at you like this for hours.” He ups the tempo and my body responds instantly with a circle of my hips up toward him.

“I wouldn’t complain if you did,” I whisper back as I watch the way his lips part slightly with each thrust of his cock inside of me.

He throws his head back with a deep growl. “I feel like you were made just for me. Our bodies are so perfect for each other. God, it’s so fucking good.”

I can’t speak. I’m nearing the edge. I can feel my body heating and my pulse racing.

My eyes close and I listen to his breathing. Heavy breaths laced with the subtle nuance of a grunt. It’s raw and animalistic.

I cry out when the orgasm hits me. I say his name because I want him to know that he’s the reason I feel so much. He’s the man who has helped me heal and made me trust.

He ruts into me with steady, even strokes as I come around his cock.

“My turn,” he whispers against my neck. “I need it hard tonight, Chloe.”

I nod as my pussy clenches around him.

A noise breaks through our labored breaths. I stall him with two hands on his biceps. “Evan.”

“Fuck.” He pumps two more strokes before he pulls back and settles on his knees between my legs. “My phone. I have to get it. Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I feel bereft but I don’t say anything as he pushes himself to his feet and grabs his jeans from the floor. He fishes in the pocket for his phone and with his back to me he answers in a tone that’s barely more than a whisper.

“This is Dr. Scott. What is it?”