CHAPTER 16
“One night. That’s all it can be. The other thing I said was true. Even if I want more, I can’t. It’ll only be tonight,” he says.
“One night,” I repeat.
In our agreement I do not rush into his arms, mostly for being shocked he’s giving in. A small piece wanted to deny him when this moment came, to get back at him, but I can’t. The game I was playing was with fire. The past he’s hinted to runs much deeper than his words, and I shouldn’t open that box. This was never a game to hurt him.
He reaches forward. A single finger traces an invisible line traveling my arm, causing me to quiver. His palm follows, warm and enveloping. They wrap around my shoulder and glide across the sloping outline of my neck, skipping over the strap of my tank top. I press myself into his sensual and hesitant touch.
He sets the pace, but he’s not in a rush to take me. It seems he’s exploring, slow and steady. This is not a race to him. I identify the signs in every move he makes.
He steps closer until we’re eye to eye. His palm settles on the nape of my neck. I suck in a low breath; still amazed this is actually happening. We’re connected now, but there’s still a lingering question behind his eyes. He tilts his head.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
I nod because I can’t bring myself to say the words. Even with our agreement I want him, but I’m unsure I’ll forget him after tonight. Something in me can’t commit to that, but I’ll take the small part of himself he can give me.
No matter the consequences, I forge ahead. God knows I have my own issues. This fragment of him I understand. If I follow Aggie’s rules of the romance universe, I should forget this night in a blink of an eye. But I’m already questioning her logic when Evan’s lips move closer to mine. My eyelids sink heavy.
His warm breath contrasts against the chill on my skin. It rushes like a comforting blanket over my body, and I shiver. With his body heating mine, he nears, melting away my nervousness. Strong fingers reach along my lower back. Small in his embrace, he gathers me close until we’re chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis, and touching everywhere. My breathing deepens and my gaze focuses on his lips. They’re inching closer. His exhale warms my face. And then—contact.
He lips sink into me. Sink. They’re like submerging into the comfort of a warm bath. Immersed, my insides awaken at our connection as nerve endings fire and spark. His lips, arms, and body collide into my world, orbiting like I’m the sun where we’re magnetically lured together.
Our mouths part and tongues twist in a heaven-filled state of starry-eyed discovery. This is everything I imagined in my mind, but not with Evan. He’s not in a fury to consume me like I envisioned. What he’s doing is making love. He’s kissing me like we’ve been together forever.
I allow him to continue because the moment it happens, I realize I’m desperate for the bond, even if it’s a facade. Maybe he needs it too. I’ve never been in love with anyone. Not even in a friend way. Not even a family way. At least, after. There’s always been something in me that’s been missing. Love, maybe? I’ve dreamed of it, hoped for it, but I’m not dumb enough to believe I’m in love with Evan. No. But at least here I can pretend to have it. With a few blazing kisses he makes me believe what’s happening between us is tangible, touchable, and real.
For tonight I’ll allow this facade of love to be real.
Lost in those thoughts, I relent to his magic. My hands travel over the soft cotton of his T-shirt on his chest until his heart thumps in wild beats beneath my hand. Dropping them to his waist, I tug his shirt loose and flip it over his head, eager to press his perfect skin to mine. He removes my tank with the same fervor. We disconnect long enough to toss the tops aside, and then we’re on each other, kissing once more. Hot skin presses against skin. Our arms tangle. We’re searching for any way to be closer.
As we kiss his hands glide along the downward line of my spine. They dip beneath the fabric of my night shorts where his large hands palm my ass. They circle my hips, making their way to my abs. Light thumbprints inch their way north until his hands caress my breasts.
His mouth breaks away from mine to explore the new territory. Tongue circles. Teeth tease my nipples, and he drops to his knees as if worshipping me. My head falls slack. My hair cascades over my shoulders. His hands grasp my hips, fingers hook into my sleeping shorts, and I jolt at the newness of being touched there. He drags them down my legs, right past the widest curve of my thighs. They fall to the floor with a whoosh and land in a puddle around my feet.
Almost completely exposed, my heart’s skipping, pulse racing, and my body stiffening with the anticipation of what he’ll do to me. I glance down, and he fixates me with those dark soulful eyes.
“You’re so beautiful.” He breathes the words slow, and one at a time, that sentence, those words and letters dance along the curve of my bare skin, awakening every inch of my body. The hair on the back of my neck rises. Goosebumps flourish, spreading like wildfire. He’s thought of me like I’ve thought of him.
His needy hands return to my hips, firm fingertips sink into my flesh, and he settles a soft kiss on the edge of my panties. My eyes roll back as heat blooms at the point of contact. Wet lips press determined kisses in a cool, sensual trail leading from one hipbone to the other. And at the end, his fingers twist into the elastic where greedy fingers drag them off. His lips follow, traveling south, farther and farther until there’s one place I need them to touch more than any other spot. I’m wet and waiting.
He knows where that is because one minute I’m standing and the next, Evan carries me across the room and seats me on a couch. Back pressed into the cushion, my thighs hook over his shoulders as he kneels on the floor before me.
I’m strong. I’m empowered. This may only be for tonight but with this beautiful man locked between my legs, I’m enjoying every second.
As I imagine what comes next, he commands my body, sliding me forward until my sex meets his mouth. The contact causes me to cry out in surprise. He responds, his hands gripping my thighs, locking me in place. The hot air from his mouth warms the space between my legs, coaxing them open. He spreads me wide and dives in as if he’s hungry for my taste.
In one soul-awakening kiss, I’ve found nirvana. His velvet tongue takes defined licks on my nub, and somewhere deep inside, a moan buzzes throughout my body, rings in my ears, and escapes between my panting breaths. My hands clench the side of the cushion.
“Evan.” His name is a whisper on my lips, but he reacts, seeming determined to make it the only word I’ll ever say again.
My fingers thread into his thick hair but not for guidance. I’m holding on for dear life because Evan’s an expert, knowing where to touch, where to suck, where to bite, and how to use his fingers. With each assertive movement, I lose control, writhing and bucking beneath him.
Even in my wildest dreams, I never could have imagined that being with a man would be like this. His actions mirror the aroused intensity building in my core. My muscles tense, my insides contract, and when he lightly nibbles at my clit with his teeth, I lose myself. Spasms slam through my body as I ride a wave of oral delirium with Evan locked between my legs.
“Oh my God.” I stiffen and arc my body into him. The peak of release lasts for what feels like an eternity until my bones become worthless and limp. Arms and legs sink to the couch like jelly. I rub the heel of my hand into my forehead, holding on to that precious pressure blooming there—that euphoria of mind-numbing orgasmic perfection I never understood before now.
“I’m not done with you,” he growls.
Evan’s grinning because he knows what he’s done to me in a matter of minutes. His skill level is so high above my practically virginal state, it’s embarrassing. Maybe it was written on my face all this time. This girl needs a good bang. He only read the glaring neon sign.
He was right all along. Why would any woman give this up, no matter how much of a smart mouth he has? I could learn to love this smart-ass mouth for their special bedroom skills alone.
I shut off my brain. My mind drifts to other sensations—Evan’s hands are massaging my sides. He peppers my stomach with kisses, stopping at my breast, biting the nipple, right before tugging it with his teeth and teasing me. I wince. The pain is rapture, and I squeeze his torso between my thighs.
When his mouth touches mine again, I’m focused on what he can do to me next. I taste myself on him, and it’s sexy as hell. So sexy I need more. I need everything.
With his body hovering over me, I unbutton his jeans. When I unzip them and ruck them off, he springs free and large.
“No boxers?” I find his gaze in the darkness.
“Commando.” He gives me a sheepish grin.
Sweet Jesus.
Our lips connect again as I grab him, stroking the width and length of him with my hand. I’m imaging myself on top of him, in front of him, below him, and riding him six ways to Sunday and back around the block. He must want the same thing because with a crackle of a condom wrapper, he’s covering himself.
He lifts me with his strong arms and kneels on the couch beneath me. His feet dangle over the edge, toes pointing toward the ground. With my butt supported by the back of the sofa, I face and straddle him. My thighs and knees press tight to his side. He lifts me and slides me onto him until we’re united. And I sigh, mouth open, at the sensation of fullness.
Now connected, there’s a sense of relief behind his eyes. We sit for a moment, my gaze anchored to his. It means something to him, even if he won’t say what. And it means something to me because it’s new and it’s with him.
His kisses are sweet, like every time before, reminding me we’re in perfect pretend lust.
“You feel amazing, Cait.” His raspy voice mixes with our groans. We kiss as he rolls beneath me.
He controls the movement of our bodies as we pump in a slow rhythm, making sure we connect at the highest point where he presses deep into me. I use my knees to lift and drive myself onto him, while he uses the power of his solid thighs to meet my crest. My hands clench the back of the sofa, helping to raise and lower myself. But both of his hands are free to explore, and that’s what he does. As I ride him, he slides one hand between my legs and uses his thumb to circle my clit in slow, lingering movements. My breath catches at the immediate delirium it delivers, and I whine at having my core activated in two ways. When I lean back, he takes my breast in his mouth, sucking and nipping at their arousal. His hands are everywhere, touching everything. I can’t breathe. I’m a live wire, wild and whipping in every direction under his skilled and sensuous touch.
The heat builds between us until I can’t take anymore. I tense and twist with need. I latch my arms around his shoulders to heave us closer and skim my chest against his. I bite his shoulder and he responds. His hands clutch my ass, lifting me with our bouncing rhythm. The position increases my pleasure. My pulse accelerates.
His face tucks into my shoulder where he’s breathing hard and heavy. I’m panting in his ear. We’re both damp in this sprint, and closing in on each other. My walls tighten around him, all muscles contract, and I cry out. My intoxicating explosion spreads everywhere, all at once, as we groan in animalistic sounds, coming together. Our movements slow until we collapse in kisses.
“You might be the death of me,” he admits. We’re tight in each other’s arms, descending from our sex-induced high.
“There’s a possibility I may not be able to move—ever again.” I laugh from relief, and he laughs too. He kisses me one last time before he lifts me off and settles me on the couch. I lie still; blissed out and naked with him slumped at my side, while his fingertips tease the length of my arm. Gentle touches glide back and forth, tracing my skin.
He kisses my shoulder as if signaling we’re done, and he rolls to stand. I watch him make his way toward the bathroom. What comes next? Is this already over, even though I’m still suffering from the lingering aftereffects? An Evan hangover?
I exhale and stand, following him. Inside the bathroom, he’s washing his hands, and I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss his neck. He stiffens and relaxes when his gaze catches mine in the mirror’s reflection. He turns and wraps me in his arms.
Even though I don’t want to, I’m about to ask him if I should leave. Unsure if this is where we end things. I’ve never done this before. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, flaring with uncomfortable heat. I chew the inside of my cheek and glance around. I’m not ready for this to be over, not ready to form those words that make me ache inside just by thinking them.
But Evan saves me by speaking first.