Chapter 4
Lora
Evan had been getting closer and closer to me, getting bolder and more to the point with every glass of wine he’d tasted. I had thought I'd been imagining things when he and I first met in the parking lot, when I thought he was checking me out. Now I knew he really had been checking me out.
I was strongly attracted to him as well. How could I not be? He was tall, powerful, handsome, and clearly had things together in his life if he was this young, yet already owned a number of high-profile restaurants. He was everything Jackson wasn't.
Even though it had been over a few months since I had broken up with Jackson, I still wasn't sure I was ready to move on. Not because I had any lingering feelings for Jackson—that wasn’t the case at all. I was totally, one hundred percent over that asshat, even if part of me did still pity him and hope he would find a way to make something of his life. But I had wasted far too much time trying to fix him, and I now realized just how futile a pursuit that had been.
Truth was, I was worried about moving on because I'd grown accustomed to being single and free. Maybe it was because it had been such a welcome contrast from the stifling sense of suffocation that had come from being in a relationship with someone like Jackson, but I really had been enjoying my freedom in recent months. Was I ready to give that all up to be in a relationship again? It was silly to think in those terms, but I also knew I couldn’t control who I fell for; no one could. I didn't think Evan would be anything like Jackson—controlling and trying to keep me from living my own life. But then again, I'd only just met this guy. However, bottom line was, he was only asking for dinner.
“So?” he asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. “What do you think? Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow evening? I realize that I'm maybe being a little forward, but I like you, Lora. You're unlike any woman I've met in quite a while. There's a connection between us, something that lit up like a fire when I first laid eyes on you. It's so easy to talk to you, and…maybe this is the wine talking, but I can imagine you and me being good together.”
I almost blushed; he was certainly being forward. After the amount of wine he'd had, though, I wasn't surprised.
“Well,” I began, “I have to admit that I like talking to you, Evan, and—”
“So, you're saying 'yes' then?” he said, interrupting me and grinning mischievously.
I laughed and winked. “Did you hear the word 'yes' in there somewhere? Because I didn't.”
“You didn't say it out loud, but you said it.”
“All right, fine. You are a master at reading between the lines, aren't you?”
He chuckled. “Always have been.”
“Now just wait up,” I said. “Let's be serious. I'll have you know that I'm not just some ditzy girl who you can impress with your flashy car and your restaurants and your money. And I have to say this now: I recently got out of a very, very difficult relationship, and I'm not sure that I'm ready to get into anything serious. I mean, I'm open to the eventual possibility, but… Let's just start out by taking things slow, okay? Just, you know, get to know each other. And then see how things go from there.”
He nodded. “That's perfectly reasonable. And you seem like a very intelligent woman. Which, I have to admit, makes me even more attracted to you.”
Oh boy, he was really turning on the charm. Not that I had much reason to resist it. But I wanted to stick by what I had just said and take things slowly with him.
“Why thank you,” I said with a smile. “And now that our date has been arranged for tomorrow, should we get back to business here?”
“Of course,” he said, smiling suavely.
He tasted the last of the wine range, and then his phone rang. He answered the call and told whoever it was that he'd be right out.
“The mobile mechanic is here with a new tire for my car,” he said. “He's waiting for me in the parking lot.”
“Well, you're done with the wine tasting, right?”
He nodded, shifting quickly back into business mode. “I am, and I'm very impressed with the range. Like I said, I'll be buying your wines for all of my restaurants. I'll get a contract drawn up and I’ll meet with Ron next week to finalize all of the details.”
“And that's because I said 'yes' to your invite to go on a date, huh?”
“Yes.” He laughed. “No, I'm just kidding, I would have taken the wines regardless.”
“Oh boy, so I could have just saved myself the trouble and said 'no,' huh?”
“You're gonna change your mind now?” he asked, still grinning.
I shook my head. I was actually starting to feel kinda excited about the idea of this date. “Nope. We're on for tomorrow evening.”
“Great. Let's go out to the parking lot. I have to get this new tire on my car.”
“Sure. You know the way out, right? I have to pack everything up and turn the lights out and lock the place,” I said.
“All right. I'll see you out there in a couple of minutes.”
He turned and walked out, and I started gathering the used glasses together. I put them all in the sink to be washed, and put all of the bottles away, but before I turned the lights out and locked up, I got my phone out and called my boss.
“Good evening, Lora,” he said as he answered the call.
“Hi Mr.-, I mean, Ron,” I said. “I’m sorry to call so late.”
“Not at all. I’m still on California time.”
“Great. How's New York?”
“Oh, it's wonderful! My wife and I are really enjoying seeing our oldest daughter. She took us out to eat, and we're going to see a Broadway show tomorrow. How did the meeting with Powers go?”
“It went really well,” I said, hardly able to contain my excitement. “He's going to stock all of his restaurants with our wines!”
“Wonderful! Just wonderful, my dear,” he said, and I could hear the delight in his voice. “That's the best news I've heard all day!”
“I'm glad you're happy about it, Ron.”
“Oh, I'm over the moon! And remember what I said—there will be a very generous bonus for you, too. You've done very well, very well. I'm very impressed.”
“Mr. Powers said that he'll meet with you next week to sign contracts, and—”
I stopped myself abruptly—I had almost said that I would be going on a date with Evan. Perhaps it wasn't best to tell Ron about that just yet.
“And?” he asked, waiting for me to finish.
“And, uh, he's seriously impressed with our wines and thinks they'll be perfect for his restaurants.”
“Well isn't that just fantastic. Thank you so much, Lora. As I said, you've done a wonderful job. Have you locked everything up?”
“I'm in the process of doing that now.”
“All right, well you get off the phone then and finish doing that, and then go out with your friends to celebrate. The night is still young, my dear!”
I chuckled. It was great to hear such joy in his voice.
“I'll do that, Ron. See you on Monday, and I hope that you enjoy the rest of your weekend in New York.”
“I'm sure I will, Lora. Enjoy the weekend.”
I put my phone away, turned all of the lights off and locked the place up, and then headed out to the parking lot. As I got there, the mobile mechanic drove out of the parking lot.
“Perfect timing,” said Evan as I walked over to him. “I've got a new tire on the car and I'm ready to roll. Do you need a ride home?”
“Are you sure you should be driving right now?” I asked. “I mean, you did have quite a bit of wine.”
“Hmm, I guess you're right. Will my car be safe in the parking lot overnight? I can call a driver to pick me up and give you a ride. I'm staying here in Sala Valley tonight at a hotel, and they have a driver that premium guests get free use of.”
“Your car should be fine,” I answered. “We've never had any problems with security here before.”
“Done,” he said, getting his phone out. “Tell me where you live, and I'll have the driver drop you off.”
“I appreciate the offer, but there's no need for that,” I said. “I drove here myself, and I'm fine to drive home. I've only had a few sips of wine this evening. In total, it wouldn't even add up to a whole glass.”
“You're sure about that?” he asked.
“Definitely,” I replied with a smile.
“All right. Well, tell me where you live, and I'll pick you up tomorrow evening.”
“My apartment building is at 43 Evergreen Drive. Be there at say, seven tomorrow evening?”
He nodded. “Sure. Seven sounds perfect. Could I get your number, just in case anything comes up?”
“Of course.”
We exchanged numbers and then chatted a little while we waited for the hotel driver to show up. When he did, we said our goodbyes.
“Well,” said Evan, “it's certainly been a great evening, hasn't it? I found a perfect range of wines for my restaurant, and I met an amazing girl woman.”
I smiled. “It was a good evening,” I agreed. “And I'm looking forward to tomorrow evening very much.”
“See you at seven,” he said as he climbed into the hotel car.
“See you then,” I said, and saw him off with a wave and a smile.
* * * * *
“Wow, you look amazing!” Janie exclaimed as I stepped out of my bathroom the next day.
“The makeup isn't too heavy is it? I don't wanna come across as trying too hard.”
She shook her head, beaming an ear-to-ear grin at me. “No way! It's just right.”
“It's not slutty looking is it?”
She chuckled. “Just a hint of sluttiness,” she said with a wink. “Way more classiness than sluttiness in there.”
“Oh yeah? Like what ratio?”
She tapped her chin, considering. “Forty-nine to fifty-one?”
“Janie!”
We both laughed.
“You know I'm kidding,” she said. “Like, ninety-five to five. Seriously. You look hot. Mr. fancy-pants restaurateur is gonna find you more delicious than anything on the menu, Lora. I promise you that.”
I smiled. “Excellent. Well, I do have a feeling that tonight is gonna be special.”
And I did. I couldn't quite explain it, but the energy I was feeling tonight was simply wonderful. Outside the air was warm and the stars were just coming out, and a gentle breeze was blowing. It couldn't have been a more perfect evening.
“I bet you're glad you decided to go to work last night instead of coming out with us, huh?” remarked Janie with a grin.
“Yeah. I guess it did pay off, in more ways than one.”
“You bet it did! We all struck out last night at the bar. It was full of losers and creeps. You, on the other hand…”
“I got a date with a guy who seems—fingers crossed—like he might actually be half-decent!”
It was hard to hide my excitement, because it had been so long since I'd been on a real date. Part of me was still feeling nervous and hesitant about this whole thing, but overwhelming the anxious side was a powerful feeling of positivity and excitement. I was looking forward to this way more than I had imagined I would. And, weirdly enough, the entire day I had been thinking about Evan. Try as I might, I hadn't been able to get him off my mind. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, I wasn't sure of at this stage. But either way, I was just gonna go with it.
I heard the friendly sound of a horn outside and glanced at my watch—it was seven o' clock, on the dot. It was Evan, I was sure of it. Janie ran over to the window and looked out.
“There's a real expensive-looking silver Mercedes waiting outside the apartment block,” she said.
“That's him,” I said. “Wish me luck.”
“Luck?” she scoffed. “You don't need it! You're gonna have an amazing time. Go get him!”
We said our goodbyes and then Janie headed back to her place, and I locked mine up and walked out to meet Evan.
Like a true gentleman, he got out of his car and opened the passenger door for me.
“You look amazing,” he remarked, and I could see from the look in his eyes that he meant it. He was dressed in a black Armani suit that had obviously been made just for him.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling shyly. “You look pretty good yourself.”
He flashed a bright white smile at me and then got into the driver's seat. “You ready for an awesome evening?”
“I am,” I replied.
“Let's make this happen,” he said smiling, and we sped off into the night.
* * * * *
“I kind of thought we'd be going to one of your restaurants,” I admitted as we stepped into Yamazaki, an upper-scale Japanese restaurant in downtown Sala Valley.
“I always feel weird about bringing a date to one of my own places,” he said. “It's kinda like having a first date at your home, ya know? It feels a little too forward.”
“So, you think of your restaurant as home, huh?” I asked as the waiter led us to our table.
Evan nodded immediately. “Yes, I guess I do. I probably spend more time in my restaurants than I do at home, and I put so much effort into them that they do feel like…well, this is gonna sound a little crazy, but they feel almost like family members. They're pretty important to me.”
“No, it's not that crazy. Your business is your baby. You've put blood, sweat, and tears into those restaurants, I'm guessing, and when you dedicate so much time, energy, and emotion into something like that, of course you're gonna feel passionate about it. So, yeah, I can see how you may feel like it's part of the family. I can understand, kinda. My dad has—well, he had—his own business. And boy, was he passionate about it.”
This seemed to pique Evan's interest. “Really?” he asked as we sat down at the table he'd reserved. “What kind of business? Was he also a restaurateur?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Oh no, not at all. I think my dad could count on one hand the number of times in his life he's been in a real restaurant. He considers pizza parlors and burger joints to be 'dining out.' I know that must horrify you, as someone who owns upscale restaurants.”
Evan laughed lightly and waved a dismissive hand. “Fine dining isn't for everyone, and I certainly don't look down on anyone if it's not their thing. So, what was his business?”
“He had a hardware store. He was absolutely crazy about DIY projects. I think he remodeled pretty much every feature of our house at least every other year. Just couldn't keep his hands still; always had to be cutting, sawing, drilling, measuring. And he was very passionate about helping everyone else with whatever DIY projects they got involved with.”
“I bet your neighbors made good friends with him,” Evan remarked wryly.
I chuckled and nodded. “That they did. He's such an easy-going, cheerful guy as well, so that helped too. I'm sure he’d have quite the hefty nest egg if he’d actually charged them for all the projects and labor he helped them with over the years.”
“So, he did all that work for free huh?”
I nodded. “Like I said, he was just crazy about home improvement and working on those sorts of things. He would help anyone with a project just for the sense of satisfaction he got out of doing it and helping others.”
“Sounds like a great man,” said Evan. “Even if he and I have, I'm guessing, very different views on food.”
“What about you?” I asked. “What about your father? Your parents? What do they do? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Well, I—”
“Good evening, are you ready to order?” said a fresh voice, interrupting Evan.
He looked up and seemed a little annoyed. “Well now,” he said, “let's not rush things, huh? We've only just sat down. This beautiful lady and I need time to peruse the menu before we make any important decisions.”
I almost said, important decisions? It's just food, but held my tongue. It certainly wasn't “just food” to someone like Evan Powers.
“Do you drink sake?” Evan asked me.
“I've tried it once before,” I said.
“Well, since we're in a Japanese restaurant, I think it's only appropriate that we have some,” he said. “Are you all right with that?”
I nodded. “Sure, why not. Like you said, we're in a Japanese restaurant.”
He looked up at the waiter. “Well, there you go. Two glasses of sake, please. And then give us a while to properly look through the menu. Thank you.”
The waiter—a teenage kid who was probably still in high school—nodded, looking a little embarrassed as he shuffled off to get our sake.
“Mistake number one,” grumbled Evan, “hiring an inexperienced high schooler to wait your tables. Sure, it's fine if you're talking fast food, where the point is to get cheap, bland mass-produced food to a customer in as short a time as possible, but in a high-end place like this, you want professionals. My apologies. I should have checked the place out more thoroughly. It's just, I had heard such good things about the food.”
“Really, Evan, it's fine,” I said.
He seemed to be rather perturbed by the waiter. “Well, I don't want poor service ruining our first date.”
“I'm not worried about the service, I assure you,” I said. “And trust me, it won't ruin our date if you don’t let it ruin your mood. I'm having quite an enjoyable time.”
That seemed to cheer him up. I was starting to get the sense that he was a very serious person, who didn't take many things lightly.
“I'm glad to hear that,” he offered with a smile. “Ah, and here's our waiter returning with some sake. Let's hope he knows it's supposed to be served chilled.”
I was a bit surprised to hear that. “Chilled?” I asked. “I always thought it was supposed to be served warm.”
He shook his head, smiling. “A common misconception, although an understandable one. Cheap sake is served warm, and sake was traditionally served warm. These days though, with advances in brewing technology, its flavor profile is best experienced when slightly chilled. Heat actually destroys some of the subtler flavor nuances.”
“Wow,” I said, genuinely impressed. “You really know your stuff, huh?”
“As much as you know your wines, I imagine.”
I nodded. “I’ve come to learn a lot about the intricacies of wine over the last few years.”
The waiter came and served us our sake—which was warm. Evan, however, didn't say anything to the kid. I think he might have if I hadn't been there, but I guessed he didn't want to come across as being too arrogant or pompous about things.
“Warm sake, huh?” I said with a wink.
He chuckled and raised his glass, clinking it against mine.
“Here's to cheap sake and inexperienced waiters,” he said, grinning, “and a night full of possibilities. There's no telling where warm sake will take you by the end of an evening,” he added with a mischievous wink.
I laughed and had a sip of sake. It was weird tasting stuff; I wasn't sure if I liked it or disliked it. Still, it went down well enough and gave me a warm, tingling feeling.
“Okay, let's check out the menu,” suggested Evan.
“Sure. I think you're going to have to send some suggestions my way, though,” I said, “because I don't know much about Japanese food.”
“I spent a summer in Tokyo learning about it,” he remarked, “but I'm no expert. Still, I guess I know more than the average Joe.”
“Or the average Jane,” I said.
“You're no 'average Jane,” he said, and there was a look of intense sincerity shining in his eyes. “There's nothing average about you, not at all. Not one damn thing. You're exceptional, Lora. Completely and utterly exceptional.”
This took me aback; I definitely hadn't been expecting such a sincere, heartfelt comment so early on. I mean, this was only our first date, and we were really only just getting to know each other. Still, there had been that powerful spark between us when we had first met, and it had felt since then that the fire of attraction between Evan and myself had just been growing hotter and hotter, and somehow, this didn't seem strange at all. In fact, it seemed almost appropriate. I couldn't explain why, but it really did. I would hesitate to use a word like “fate” or “destiny” or something like that to describe my feelings about meeting him, and the intensity of the attraction that existed between us, but there definitely seemed to be something about the way I felt about this guy, and how powerful and intense the attraction between us was that made it feel as if there was more to it than simple physical attraction.
Still, I didn't want to think too much about that or read too much into it. Not just yet. So, at this moment, I simply gave him as charming a smile as I could, and said in a quiet, sincere tone, “Thank you, Evan. You're pretty amazing yourself.”
We both shared a look that set something on fire within me. He had such intense eyes, eyes that I felt I could drown in. I didn't want to, though, not just yet. This was, after all, only our first date.
“How do you like the sake?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“It's quite nice,” I said. “Although I wouldn't know much about the quality. Western wines are what I know.”
He smiled. “Like I said, it should have been chilled if it were good stuff. This is kinda cheap, despite the price tag they've put on it. Still, it's got a pleasant enough flavor. And it goes down pretty smoothly, huh?”
“That it does,” I agreed. “Very smooth. Kinda dangerous, huh? I feel like it's one of those drinks that you can just gulp like water, without realizing how hard it's hitting you until it's almost too late.”
He laughed. “That's very true! And it happened to me a number of times when I was in Tokyo, I can tell you that.”
I had another sip of my sake. The more of it I drank, the more I was starting to like it. A buzz was coming on, nothing too overwhelming. Just nice and pleasant.
“Tell me more about Japan,” I said. “I've always wanted to go.”
We chatted for a long time about his experiences in Japan, and in France. He had seen some fascinating things and had done some pretty interesting stuff too. I was both fascinated and a little envious, because I had never been overseas myself. It seemed like Evan, however, had traveled pretty extensively. He really was a worldly guy, it would seem…
We enjoyed our meal, which was exotic and delicious. Evan had known exactly what to order. It was a type of sushi, but I couldn't pronounce the name, and it certainly wasn't at all like the kind of sushi I'd ever tried.
By the end of the meal, we'd each had a good few more glasses of sake, and I was feeling pretty buzzed. I hadn't intended to get smashed, and I certainly wasn't drunk, but I was definitely on my way there.
The time came to take care of the bill, which Evan did, and he left the teenage waiter a generous tip, despite his earlier criticisms of the boy's lack of knowledge. It seemed that although Evan could come across as a bit arrogant, and maybe a bit of an uncompromising hard-ass, he was actually kind at heart. This observation, of course, only served to make my attraction toward him even more intense. This feeling, combined with the heady state of mild drunkenness I was feeling, made me bold…and excited. I could feel the intensity of my physical attraction toward him growing, and it had been such a long time since I had been with a man physically, that it was impossible to not think about more…intimate pleasures.
“What would you like to do now?” asked Evan, who, unlike me, seemed completely unaffected by the amount of sake he had had—which, like me, had actually been quite a lot.
“It's too early to go home,” I said.
He nodded. “Way too early for that. Would you like to have a few more drinks with me? There are some decent bars in this town.”
That sounded like it would be fun, and I told him so.
“Excellent. Well, let's drive back to my hotel first, and I'll park my car there and then get the driver to bring us back downtown. Is that cool with you?”
“Sounds great,” I said.
We walked out of the Japanese restaurant and got back into his Mercedes. It was a very impressive car, one that I had been quite awed by earlier, but I hadn't said anything about that because I'd felt a little shy. Now, however, the alcohol in my veins was making me feel a good deal more confident.
“Your car is…really sexy,” I said as we got in.
He looked at me with a cheeky grin. “You think so huh? It's a S65 AMG. V12 Turbo motor.”
I shrugged. “I don't actually know what any of that means,” I said sheepishly. “But I like how it looks, and how luxurious it feels inside.”
He chuckled. “It means that it's got one heck of a motor—fast enough to take on a Ferrari or Lamborghini, with the handling to match. It's just not as, ya know, over-the-top and excessive as an Italian sports car. More practical than either of those for day-to-day use. And while I'm really into sports cars, I don't actually like drawing that much attention to myself. Driving a loud, bright red or yellow Italian machine makes everyone stare at you. I don't want that. With this, I can enjoy the perks of owning an incredibly exclusive sports car without the downsides.”
I nodded. “Sounds like a practical solution to a problem that most mere mortals will never experience.”
I clapped my hand over my mouth. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, and now I worried that I’d offended him.
But he just laughed. “True, I guess. I worked hard to get where I am now, though, so I might as well enjoy the fruits of my labor.”
“Indeed. Now, speaking of fruit, Evan, how about we go find some more fermented fruit juice to drink?”
“I like the way you describe alcohol,” he said, grinning. “So yeah, let's go find some more of that 'fermented fruit juice.' Come on!”
We sped off to his hotel, the most expensive hotel in town—the Carlton.
“Wow, the Carlton,” I remarked. “Nice place.”
“You bet,” he said. “I do like comfort and style.”
We rolled into the parking lot, and a valet came out to park the Mercedes.
“All right,” said Evan as he helped me out of the passenger side. “Should I get the driver to take us out to a bar?”
“Actually,” I said, “how about we have a drink here at the hotel bar before we go out? I've always wanted to see the inside of this place.”
“Sure thing. They do have a nice bar here.”
He took my hand to lead me inside, and as he did I felt a surge of almost electrical attraction rushing up my arm. Again, my hunger for physical intimacy started to grow, becoming more and more intense. I squeezed his fingers lightly and felt almost as if I could feel the same hunger, mirrored from within him.
“Come on,” he said, leading me inside. “It's this way.”
We walked through the hotel, which was very fancy inside, with beautiful décor and stylish art, and headed to an elevator near the back of the lobby. We took it up to the sixth floor, and then stepped out into a huge, spacious bar in a circular room, with wall-to-floor windows all around. The view looked out over all of Sala Valley, and it was pretty spectacular.
“Wow,” I remarked. “Just look at Sala Valley. Gorgeous.”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “This bar really does offer a magnificent view.”
“Beautiful,” I said. “My apartment is on the fifth floor, so it's a similar height, but it's low in the valley so I don't get a view like this one.”
“Well, why don't we admire the view over cocktails? What are you having?”
“Hmm. I'm gonna say…Long Island Iced Tea.”
He grinned. “I heard they make 'em strong at this bar.”
“Well, it's Saturday night,” I replied playfully. “So, we might as well have some fun.”
“Yeah,” he said. “For once, I have the day off tomorrow, so I can cut loose tonight.”
“And what are you gonna have?”
“Hmm, I'm not much of a cocktail guy. Usually I stick with whiskey—single malt, of course.”
“Well you said cocktails, so I'm gonna have to insist that you have one.”
He laughed. “So that's how it's gonna be then?”
I nodded, putting on an expression of mock seriousness. “That's how it's gonna be.”
“All right, then. I think I'll have a White Russian.”
“Well, let's get our cocktails on.”
We ordered our cocktails—which tasted fantastic, and which were very, very strong, just as Evan had said, and chatted, looking out over Sala Valley. As I gazed over the glittering lights of the valley, I realized how much I loved living here, and what an excellent choice I had made to leave Wytheville. In a way, Jackson had actually done me a favor by forcing me to leave. Things had worked out pretty well since coming here.
We finished our cocktails. I was feeling pretty buzzed at this stage.
“Another?” asked Evan.
“I don't know,” I answered, feeling a little uncertain. I was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol now. I wanted to keep having fun, but I didn't want to get smashed and lose control, and thus risk looking like an idiot in front of Evan.
“Well I'm having one more,” he said. “They sure do make 'em good here. But don't feel like you have to—I'm not gonna put any pressure on you to do that. I'm twice your size, I can handle a lot more drink than you!”
I laughed. “All right, then I'm just gonna take it easy with some water.”
“Sure thing.”
Evan ordered himself another cocktail and got me some mineral water. I wasn't trashed, but I was definitely feeling a strong buzz, so I was grateful for the water. We sat and talked more, moving closer and closer to each other, until Evan's arm was around my shoulder, and his hand was on my leg. At his touch, an electric shudder of desire coursed through me. Heat blossomed within me. I wanted him, and I wanted him bad. From the hungry look in his eyes, I could tell that he was likely feeling the same way about me.
For a moment it seemed as if we were about to kiss—but then he finished his cocktail and went to get another one.
“Would you like one?” he asked.
“No thanks,” I said. “I'll stick with water.” I thought that that was a wise choice, because I was still feeling pretty buzzed from the previous drinks.
Evan soon returned with a cocktail, and we got to chatting again. It was all pretty light subject matter; mostly about his travels, his food, and other stuff like movies, TV series or music we liked. Neither of us spoke about our families, and we certainly didn't get onto the topic of exes. I, for one, was definitely not prepared to talk about Jackson and all the horrors of that relationship, not yet at least, and I was glad the topic didn't come up.
Evan started moving closer to me, and by the time he finished his next cocktail, his arm was once again around me, and his other hand slid onto the top of my thigh. It felt good to have this kind of physical closeness with a guy after such a long time—especially a guy as hot as Evan.
I knew then that we were going to kiss; I could feel it coming, like a storm. We looked into each other's eyes, and our mouths moved with almost magnetic force toward each other. When our lips met, it was like fireworks exploding in the night.
A surge of intense passion and excitement tore through me as his tongue slipped into my mouth, and I felt his strong, manly hands pulling me in closer to him. Heat rushed through my body, and an intensity of desire that I hadn't felt for a very long time now began to swell within me.
“Let's…let's go back to my room,” he managed to gasp as we kissed.
For a moment, the rational part of my brain tried to figure out whether this was actually a good idea. The speeding bullet train of hot, aching desire quickly blasted that little smidgen of doubt into oblivion, though.
“Yeah,” I panted. “Let's go.”
He took my hand, leading me out of the bar, and I could sense the same heat that was in my veins racing through his. We rushed to the elevator, doing our best not to look like we were rushing, and once the doors of the elevator closed behind us, we immediately started making out again, devouring each other and pawing hungrily at each other's bodies.
We took the elevator to the top floor, where Evan was staying in the presidential suite. As soon as we got inside, he slammed the door closed behind me and we resumed our kissing. Wave after wave of sheer desire was rushing through me, and soon we were taking each other's clothes off as we kissed.
Half kissing, half undressing each other, we stumbled over to a huge white leather sofa.
Abruptly, he pulled away from me. “Lora, are you okay with this?”
“With what?” I asked.
“All of this. Kissing. Maybe more.”
“Yes. I’m okay with all of it. Better than okay.” With a big grin on my face, I ripped his shirt off, exposing his broad, tanned chest. He was in seriously good shape and looked like he worked out regularly. He pulled my dress up over my head, leaving me only in my bra and panties.
That was when a doubt once again found its way into my mind. How had things suddenly gotten to this point? This was going way too fast.
But then I felt Evan's lips on the side of my neck, touching, caressing, biting lightly, teasing me. All doubt fell away, and all resolve crumbled. I moaned softly as pleasure rippled along my skin, and I caressed his heavily-muscled chest as he moved his tender lips down to bite and kiss my bare shoulder. I shivered when he ran his fingertips down my ribs and onto my hips.
“Mm, oh Evan, it's so good…you're so good,” I whispered, closing my eyes with pleasure.
He slipped one of my bra straps off my shoulder, and then slid his hand into my bra to cup my breast, massaging it slowly, building up the pressure of his fingers tantalizingly. He squeezed my stiffening nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I shuddered with bliss.
As he did this, he moved his head down my torso, kissing my ribs, and then my belly, swirling and tracing the tip of his tongue over my flesh.
“Mm,” he whispered, “you have such a beautiful, silky smooth belly. And I love the fullness of your curves. I love your body.”
I gasped softly and shivered as he moved his tongue down while increasing the pressure on my nipple.
He traced a passage down my belly with his tongue as he slid my panties off with his free hand. I sighed with pleasure and leaned back on the sofa as he pulled my panties down my legs and left them dangling around my ankles. He then moved his head down, and, still cupping my breast and squeezing my nipple, he gently parted my legs and moved his face down between them.
I was already wet, but the soft lapping of his tongue through my slit made me even wetter. I was hot and engorged down there, and fiery with raw desire. He slid his hand down and stroked the outside of my hot, wet center with a tantalizing, exploratory touch.
He started licking and sucking on my swollen clit as I arched my back and started to moan with pleasure. He was good—really good. He kept his tongue moving with a steady rhythm, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through me, and then slowly started to slide his finger up inside me.
It felt good—so amazingly good. Any semblance of doubt had now gone out the window. I was lost, a slave to this glorious, exhilarating moment. As he sucked and licked my clit, he curled his finger inside me, stroking and massaging my G-spot, which sent waves of bliss tearing through my body. I moaned and gasped as he continued with the sensual motion of his fingers and tongue. The pleasure was becoming more and more fiery, more and more intense, and I bucked and gyrated my hips, grinding softly into him as he devoured me.
My orgasm was building with incredible force, and I knew that it would be unleashed soon. It was building up with the unstoppable power of floodwaters about to overwhelm a dam wall—and then, finally, it ripped through me.
I cried out and arched my back as wave after wave of utter bliss crashed through my body. I hadn't felt like this in so, so long. Such an incredible release. I gripped fistfuls of his hair tight as I pressed my crotch into his face, shuddering and moaning. It was glorious, it was immense…
And then, finally, it was over.
I lay back, gasping, my chest and face flushed and hot, my body limp with pleasure.
“That was amazing,” I managed to gasp.
He got up, leaned over me and kissed me softly on my lips.
“It's time to go to sleep, I think,” he whispered.
With the alcohol in my head and the immense relaxation that had come with my orgasm, I could only agree with him. He picked me up gently, carried me to the bedroom with its huge bed, and kissed me one more time. And then, the next thing I knew, I was sleeping like a baby.