“Why not?”
“Women aren’t supposed to have sex for up to six weeks after having a baby. It’s only been two weeks.”
“What the hell?”
“Recovery time.”
“Hmm. I never actually thought of that . . . like ever.”
“You were just gonna have your gal pop out a kid in the morning and in the sack again that night, weren’t you?”
I laughed, elbowing him. “I’m not that bad. I would’ve given her a night off.”
He laughed harder. “That’s my boy. Always thinking with his head.”
“You know it.” I glanced at my watch again. “I need to go pick up dinner.”
“What are you eating?”
“I ordered Chinese.”
“Well, have fun. Carry some condoms, just in case.”
Shaking my head, I laughed and hurried out to my truck. Dylan’s comment stuck with me and gave me a sinking feeling. I hadn’t used a condom last time. I didn’t have one with me when it happened. Pretty much every girl I knew was on the pill, anyway. Surely Evie was, too? Unless she was thinking about her dead fiancé for six years and basically sentencing herself to celibacy. Then there would be no reason for the pill.
Damn. I needed to try to find a nice way to bring this up, tonight. If we were going to be together, we needed to take better precautions and be safe.
***
“You look amazing,” I said, opening the back gate for her. She stepped inside, wearing a short black dress that hit about mid-thigh, again accentuating her long legs, which looked even longer because of her high heels. The dress scooped low, revealing a good deal of cleavage, and she wore her blonde hair straight. It practically glowed against all the black. She was a knockout. Already my head was imagining all kinds of things it shouldn’t be, and my body was at complete attention, ready to follow those orders.
“So do you.” She gave a quick laugh. “We match tonight.”
Glancing down at my black shirt, pants and shoes, I nodded. “True, but trust me when I say, no one is noticing what I’m wearing with you standing in the room.”
Giggling, she moved closer and I could smell the gardenia scent of her perfume. “We aren’t standing in a room, Russ,” she whispered, drawing a finger lightly over my chest. “We’re outside, remember? And you should trust me when I say, I notice you just fine.”
Shit. It was going to be one of those kinds of nights. I wanted to forget the movie, forget dinner, and carry her over to the cushions and then peel that dress off her gorgeous body and have hot, naked sex with her all night long.
“If you keep dressing like this and touching me like that, my promise to go slow is going to be a lot harder to keep.” Staring down at her legs, imagining them wrapped around me, I so wanted to feel that again.
“Maybe I changed my mind.” Smiling, she continued to touch me.
“Maybe you should quit teasing me before you land flat on your back with your legs in the air.” That mental picture made me really happy.
“Sounds fun,” she replied, licking her lips, and I groaned.
“Yeah, it does.” I needed to change the subject right now. “Are you hungry? I got us a bunch of Chinese take-out.”
Sighing, she dropped her hand away and nodded. “I’m famished, really. I promised my mom I’d come over and help her weed her flowerbeds and vegetable garden today, and it turned into a bigger project than we initially thought it would be. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
Taking her by the elbow, I guided her over to the cushions and throw pillows. “You just sit right here and I will get you some food. Is there anything particular you like?”
“I’m not too picky, but I do love sweet and sour pork.”
“Coming right up!” I loaded her plate with sweet and sour pork, noodles, and fried rice, along with a fortune cookie. Placing a pair of chopsticks on the side, I carried it over to her. “Here you go.”
She stared at the plate for a moment before glancing up at me from her seat. “I suck at using chopsticks.”
“Do you now?” I grinned. “I think I’m looking forward to watching this.”
“You aren’t going to take pity on me and bring me a fork, instead?” She took the plate.
“Now what makes you think I’m willing to ruin all my fun just to make it easy on you?” Quickly, I hurried back to dish my own food before returning and settling down beside her. “Do I need to feed you?”
“You might have to. I’m that bad at it.” She continued to stare at her plate.
I took a bite, moaning as the flavor burst into my mouth. I hurriedly finished chewing and swallowed. “You really should try it. It’s amazing.”
Picking up one chopstick, she stabbed a piece of the pork and ate it. Laughing, I shook my head.
“That’s one way to do it, I guess. Whatever works.”
“Not very graceful, I imagine.”
“Hey, you’re eating dinner with a firefighter. Don’t you know we eat like pigs?”
She smiled. “Whatever.”
“I’m being totally serious. We never know when a call is going to come in. The result is that we’ve learned to shovel our food in as quickly as possible and then we sit around and visit. If we go slow, and get interrupted, who knows when we might get to eat again?”
“I could see how that might be a problem. But, thankfully, you’re not on call tonight, so you can go slowly.”
“Hmmm.” Her words conjured up something totally different for me. “I have no problem going slow, either. In fact, I’ve been looking forward to it.” My eyes drifted over her gorgeous figure, immediately wanting to strip her bare.
“I don’t believe I put out on the second date,” she said, slightly stabbing another piece of pork and eating it.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot. You only put out on first non-dates.”
Laughing, she rolled her eyes. “That’s right.”
“We need to have another one of those then. Do you put out on second non-dates?” I asked, eyeing her and she totally choked on the bite she was chewing. Reaching over, I patted her on the back, lightly, as she continued coughing. “I can see you’re wanting to move straight to mouth-to-mouth. You should’ve just said something. I would’ve accommodated you, I know you’re dying to kiss me.”
A strangled laughed escaped her amid more coughing sounds and I quickly dragged out the bottle of wine chilling in a bucket of ice and poured her a glass. With a grateful expression, she accepted it and downed the entire contents, swiftly.
Taking a deep breath, she smiled, only a couple small coughs escaping her as she handed the glass back to me. “Thank you.”
“More? Already?” I asked, staring at the empty wine goblet. “At this rate you’re going to be drunk as a skunk here, shortly; but if you insist.” Pouring her another, I handed it back.
“I wasn’t asking for more,” she replied with a laugh, accepting it. I was totally surprised when she slammed the contents and extended her hand again.
“Let me guess? You’re a closet alcoholic?” Still, I couldn’t resist refilling her drink. I was enjoying seeing this side of her. She always seemed so controlled.
“Are you going to have some?” she asked, gesturing to my still empty glass.
“Honestly, I’m having too much fun watching you. I completely forgot about it.”
“Well, I’m not drinking this one without you.”
Grabbing mine, I quickly filled it and held it out toward her. “To tonight.” I toasted and she clinked my glass and downed hers again. Chuckling, I did the same. “So, let me guess. You were a champion drinker in college?” I refilled our glasses, noting the end of the bottle. I quickly slipped the spare into the ice.
“Were you planning on getting me drunk tonight?” she asked, eyeing the second bottle suspiciously.
“Not at all,” I assured her with a laugh. “I just like to be prepared, you know, in case a champion drinker stops by for dinner.”
Giggling, sh
e snorted and shook her head. I could tell the alcohol was taking affect already. “I wasn’t old enough to drink in college. Well, at least I wasn’t when most kids around me were into all that. In fact, I never even tried a drink until I was twenty.”
“Why twenty?” I asked, unable to imagine going that long without ever trying alcohol.
“That was when Kory died. I didn’t care if I was too young then. Plus, I had plenty of college friends who sympathized with me and were very happy to buy for me. I didn’t drink enough to affect my schooling; but at night, when the day and my homework were done, I got wasted.” Glancing at me, I could see the sadness radiating from her eyes. “I couldn’t sleep without it—too many nightmares.” Staring at me, she raised her finger and shook it. “This is not me advising you to drink to get rid of your nightmares.”
“I didn’t think you were. Besides, I’ve already tried that. It didn’t work.”
“When did you have your first drink?” she asked, thankfully steering the conversation away to safer subjects.
Smiling, I thought back to my childhood. “I never set out with a desire to be a bad kid or to break the rules. That being said, the party scene was totally where I wanted to be. My first beer was one my dad had chilling in the refrigerator. There was always beer in there, and he drank enough that he never seemed to notice when I took one or two for myself—or if he did, he never said anything to me about it.”
“You didn’t tell me how old you were,” she said.
I chuckled. “I was twelve.”
“Twelve! Oh my gosh! Do you even have a liver left?”
Laughter erupted from me. I loved how she always caught me off guard. “I didn’t become an instant alcoholic, you know. My beer sneaking ratio averaged about one a week. I’m fairly certain my liver is fine.”
“What about later? You said you were into the party scene.”
“I preferred marijuana. If there was anything I really abused, it was that.”
“So you never got drunk?”
“I didn’t say that. I’ve been plastered more times than I can probably count, but it wasn’t near as much as being stoned.”
“You mentioned in your session you tried a lot of other drugs, too. Did you use them regularly?”
“How did this become a discussion about my past substance abuse history?” I asked with a laugh. “Is this a therapy session, Doc? Because I was under the impression that part of our relationship was over.”
“Sorry. It’s training that’s ingrained in me.” She bit her lip, cocking her head to the right as she stared at me. “I’m just curious about your past and getting a clear picture of how you ended up here, like this.”
“Like what?” I asked, curious to what label she’d put on me.
“Perfect,” she said with a sigh, and I laughed, reaching over and taking her glass and setting it beside mine.
“I think we’ve had enough to drink.”
“I’m not drunk,” she said, leaning closer. “I can handle my liquor very well.”
“Can you now?” I asked, enjoying her close proximity. My gaze dropped to her plump, glistening lips. “Then what’s going on here?”
She leaned in closer. “I’m going to kiss you because you’re taking entirely too long to do it and it’s driving me insane.”
I shook my head. “Sorry. I can’t kiss you. You’re under the influence and that would be taking advantage of you, and breaking my promise to ‘go slow.’”
Giggling, she moved a hairsbreadth away from me, her lips almost touching mine. “What if I’m doing all this because I want you to break your promise and take advantage of me?”
I swallowed hard—hell, everything was hard, but I continued to play her game. “I still couldn’t do it.”
She pulled back slightly. “Why not?”
“Because kissing you would automatically lead to sex and I promised Dylan there would be no sex in his backyard tonight.”
“Oh.” The way she said it followed by the disappointment in her eyes made me want to throw all caution to the wind and kiss her anyway. Immediately, her expression brightened. “So let’s get going up to your apartment. We can always make out on your squeaky bed.”
I groaned loudly. “You can’t say things like that to me.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
Smiling, she placed a light kiss against my lips. I didn’t move. In fact, I didn’t respond at all. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Other parts of me were responding just fine. Still, I didn’t move, trying very hard to stick to my resolution.
“From the moment I showed you that bed, I’ve been imagining you in it.”
“Really?” She smiled even bigger. “I was pretty sure I was the only one who imagined that.”
“Now I’m positive this is the alcohol talking,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because you’re pretty good at keeping me at arm’s length. I’m fairly certain you haven’t been imagining yourself in my bed.”
“You know what they say . . . .”
“Um, no, I don’t. What do they say?” I was thoroughly enjoying this conversation.
“Alcohol loosens the tongue, so the truth can finally come out.”
“Is that what they say?” I asked, my pulse picking up speed.
“It is.”
“So what are you trying to tell me, Evie? Say it plain—no games.” I brushed my hand over her hair, our food and drinks completely forgotten.
“I’m asking you to take me to bed, Russ. To your bed.”
Everything inside my body begged for me to give in to her request. “And what happens later, when you regret asking me to do this?”
“I can’t regret doing something I want.”
“And what about Kory?” I asked, knowing this question could possibly derail everything.
She was silent for several moments. “You were right. Liking you doesn’t mean I have to love Kory any less.”
“I don’t want to be the guy who is on standby for you, Evie. I want more than that from you.”
Sidling against me, she placed her hands on either side of my face. “Russ, I don’t want you to be that either. I’m so tired of crying. I’m so tired of being lonely. I’m so tired of waiting for . . . something. All I know is you’re the first guy I’ve even noticed since Kory died. I like you. I enjoy being with you. Whenever you’re around, I’m happy; and when you leave again, I’m not.”
Staring at her, I continued to finger the silky strands of her hair. “That sounded surprisingly lucid.”
She laughed. “I told you, I’m not drunk. A little mellow maybe, but I’m not drunk.”
“So, if I take you to bed, you aren’t going to scream at me later for taking advantage of you?”
“I never said there wouldn’t be screaming,” she said, smiling briefly before pressing her lips to mine. Fire shot straight through me at the contact and I scooped her up, carrying her to the exterior stairs that led to my apartment, unwilling to waste one more second.
Chapter Sixteen
Evie
With an exhausted, satisfied sigh, I plopped back onto the mattress, its squeaky springs protesting wildly. “How many times has that been now?” I asked breathlessly.
Russ fell beside me, panting just as badly as I was. “I don’t know. I’ve lost track, but it was still amazing. Let me know when you’re ready to go again.”
I totally snorted. “You’re kidding me, right? I didn’t even know it was humanly possible for a guy to keep going like this.”
“Some guys are lucky,” he replied with a grin. “And since I have no idea when you might decide you need me again, I intend to take full and complete advantage of what you’re offering as many times as you’ll give it to me.”
I couldn’t help my blush, or my laughter—not that I was actually complaining. Russ was amazing in bed, and I jealously thought back to his therapy session and his revelation about the girl he’d slept with in high school. H
e’d said there was no relationship and it was strictly for sex. I was starting to think that the girl had been born stupid. I couldn’t imagine anyone sleeping with Russ and then wanting anyone else after that. I was pretty sure he’d just ruined me for any other guy out there. He was that incredible.
Right now, in this moment, I totally felt like the cougar I was. Russ could probably screw laps around me. It was all I could do to keep up with him; yet, for some reason, I couldn’t seem to keep this damn grin off my face.
He was grinning, too. “It’s fun, huh? And despite all my worries, the bed makes it even better.”
Catching me by surprise, I laughed, thinking of the insane amount of loud squeaking it had made underneath us—except for the time we did it on the floor; oh, and that other time against the wall, and the one time bent over the chair. But the rest had been on the very squeaky bed.
“Do you think they heard us?” I asked, staring into his beautiful eyes in the lamplight.
“Cami and Dylan?” he asked and I nodded.
“Well, I have been sound proofing this part of the house to keep the noise from traveling between the two places.”
Instantly, I was relieved.
“Of course, I’m pretty sure I left the interior door open between my house and theirs; so yeah, they’ve probably heard the bed and a whole lot more.”
Covering my mouth, I stared at him in horror. “Oh, my gosh! Go shut the door! I’m so embarrassed.”
“They know how to close the door if they needed to.” He grinned, seemingly unconcerned. “Besides, I consider it payback for everything I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing between the two of them.”
“That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea. I swear they never lock a door, like ever. I can’t count the times I’ve walked in on the two of them going at it.”
“And they still don’t lock the doors?”
“They don’t know about it,” he replied with a chuckle. “I’ve never told them.”
“Well, then I hope you’ve learned to knock or call out before entering.”
“Always. Always, always.” Shaking his head, he grinned. “I’ve learned to listen, too. They aren’t exactly quiet either. Hence the need for sound proofing.”
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