But he couldn’t cage her. She thrived on freedom. Loved her patients. The MedTour was a perfect fit. The program allowed her to roam wild through the mountains of North Carolina, doing what she loved best—helping people.
Her body lurched, and her hand shot out to grasp the back of the couch. She blinked awake.
He strode forward. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
She massaged the center of her forehead. “I must have dozed off.”
“You’ve had an eventful evening.” He sat on the coffee table next to her. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. The catnap helped.” She glanced around. “Where’s my ice cream?”
“I poured it down the drain.”
“You didn’t!”
“I should’ve. What you did to that dessert was un-American.”
“Have you tried it?”
“Nope, and I don’t plan to, either.”
Pushing upright, she swung her legs over the side of the couch. Her new position put mere inches between their noses.
“This is cozy,” she said
“Too bad we don’t have a fire.”
“We could make our own.”
Desire speared straight to his groin. Her upturned face held not a hint of the earnest innocence of a year ago. Tonight, her passion and need and determination were clear. And if he didn’t catch all of that in her expression, her fingers sliding beneath the strap of her sundress set the tone.
He couldn’t force himself to stop her, so he tried to convince her with words. “You’ve got to think of your future, Evie. Don’t squander it on the wrong guy.”
“One day, I’ll make you understand.” The second strap drifted down her shoulder. “But right now, I want to feel you deep inside me.”
An ache burrowed into his chest. “There’s no room for us. Not with your career and not with mine.”
“We’re smart. We’ll figure it out.”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried?” His hands fisted together between his knees. “Every night I stare up at the ceiling, devising ways for us to be together. But there’s no path, without one of us making a sacrifice.”
Her small hands cradled his jaw and her thumbs made soothing strokes over his cheeks.
“If we can’t have forever, then let’s steal tonight.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the temptation. Stay strong, Conrad. “Evie, this isn’t—”
Warm lips angled over his, tentative at first, before becoming more demanding.
God help him, he managed not to respond for a full five seconds. The longest seconds of his life. But he’d wanted her for too long, wanted this too long. His hands began to tremble.
Why not give in to her sweet seduction? They were both consenting adults, who were attracted to each other. Why not accept this piece of heaven? Set aside reality for an hour and enjoy each other’s bodies?
A small voice in the back of his head warned him of the emotional destruction that could come later. Later. He would worry about it later.
For now, he deepened the kiss. Gave himself over to his Evie.
He relished her control, her thorough understanding of her body’s needs. He didn’t fight his submissive role. He gave her three whole alpha minutes before turning the tide, nudging her back onto the couch, covering her with his body, devouring every inch of her responsive mouth.
A slender leg hooked over his hip, and he ran a hand down her bare thigh. God, he loved sundresses. He pressed into her welcoming V and soaked up the sound of her answering groan.
His lips followed a preordained path from the pulse point at her neck to the hollow between her breasts. He breathed in her warm vanilla scent before revealing one perfect mound. A ruched nipple sat within a dusky rose ring.
Beautiful.
He laved the hard nub while guiding her other leg over his hip. “Hold on,” he murmured. “I’ll move us to the bedroom.”
“No. Please.” Her voice was husky, lust thick. “I don’t want anything to break this moment.”
“No complaints here.”
She pushed the flimsy material of her sundress down her torso. In a move that could have only been done by a yoga master, she shimmied out of the dress without knocking him unconscious with those long, long legs.
His breath stuck to the back of his throat when he saw she wore no underwear. “Do you subscribe to Britt’s commando philosophy?”
“For the love of God, don’t bring my brother into this.”
“You’re right. Doesn’t matter.” He ran the back of his index finger down the inside of her thigh. Her musky scent filling his nose. “You’re more beautiful than I dreamed.”
“When did you dream about me, Deke Conrad?”
Wet. So damn wet. He pushed inside her slick passage, teasing, exploring, exciting them both. “Enough times to make me feel like a dirty old man.”
“Time for you to remove your clothes, Grandpa.”
“Not yet.”
With his finger still inside her, he blazed a trail of kisses from the apex of her legs to one firm breast to the next.
“Oh, my God. Deke, I’m going to come.”
“Hmmm,” he groaned against her nipple. “We can’t have that. Not until I’m inside you.”
Slowly, he eased his manipulations between her legs while he kissed his way up to her mouth. Their tongues dueled for a spine-shattering minute before he got to his feet.
Evie thought her mind was either going to melt or explode when Deke began taking his clothes off, one piece at a time. He appeared to relish the suspense, her reaction. He studied her with an intensity that made her inner muscles coil and her spine curl.
He’d buffed up over the years. Wider shoulders, ripped abs, thicker biceps. He was magnificent. The Renaissance masters would have memorialized him into marble had they caught a glimpse of him centuries ago.
Propping herself up on one arm, she said, “You take my breath away. Always have.” Her free hand roamed up the back of his thigh, over his rounded ass, and into the small of his back. She urged him closer.
He sucked in a sharp breath, guessing her intent.
The hard length of him seemed to expand before her eyes. She swallowed, trying to calm her racing heart. She’d anticipated this moment for so long and didn’t want to muck it up.
Nuzzling his cock, she inhaled his scent, memorizing every detail. Her tongue stretched out to taste him, and a shiver trembled through her body into his. She explored him, inch by inch by inch, until she reached the summit. A pearl of liquid slid down the soft hood, tempting her.
She drew him inside her mouth…and sucked, moaning at the taste of him, feel of him, scent of him. Covering the crown of her head with his hand, his fingers tangled in her hair, holding her steady. His hips began a gentle thrust, meeting her demanding lips.
“Evie,” he panted. “Inside you. Now.”
After one last greedy swipe of her tongue, she laid back, allowed her legs to drift open. She beckoned him closer.
She half expected him to pounce on her and plunge inside. But Deke had never acted as she expected.
He kneeled on the couch, at her feet. Then he crawled toward her like a sleek jaguar on the prowl for his next meal. He paused only long enough to seat himself at her entrance before moving over her, covering her, claiming her.
Everything happened so seamlessly. In a blink, she was meeting him thrust for slow, thorough thrust. Her palms smoothed up and down his solid back, urging him faster and faster and faster. They were fused together from mouth to hips, everything in perfect synchronicity. Then the rhythm changed, became more urgent. Their lips broke apart and their bodies sought and sought and sought—until release hit them like a rocket blast.
Deke withdrew at the last second. They cried out in unison, their bodies frozen in time but for the vibrations that continued deep, deep, deep in her core.
Lowering onto his elbows, he kissed her cheek, her eyebrow, her nose. “You okay?”
&nbs
p; “Lord, no.”
He stiffened.
“‘Okay’ is too puny of a word for what I’m feeling right now. Heaven help me, I can’t wait until we’re able to do that again.”
The grin that stretched across his face was all satisfied, cocksure male. Shaking her head, she covered her eyes, too sated to scold. “Get over yourself, Deke Conrad.”
“Not possible with a naked Evie Steele beneath me.”
To punctuate his comment, his flaccid member resting on her stomach kicked to life.
“Told you.”
She cradled his head with both hands and drew him down for a kiss.
Knuckles rapped against his apartment door. “Deke, it’s Britt.”
Her heart skydived in her chest. She met Deke’s gaze. “He will kill us both,” she whispered.
After another hard knock, Deke’s surprise turned to what looked like resignation. He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Get dressed.”
“He’ll figure out what we’ve been up to.”
“I know. Leave him to me.”
He threw on his T-shirt and jeans and then strode to the door.
“Hey,” Britt said from the landing. “Randi said Evie had a run-in with an intruder. Is she still here?”
“She’s fine. Experienced a little shock. She’s resting now.”
Thank goodness she’d worn a sundress. It took her no time to burrow back into the floral outfit, but her hair was a different story. Bedhead was a hard mess to fix.
“I’d like to see her.”
She recognized the razor’s edge that had entered her brother’s voice. He already suspected they were keeping something from him. Probably because Deke was using his big body to block Britt’s view inside.
Curling up in the corner of the couch, she pulled the throw over her. “It’s okay, Deke.”
He peered at her over his shoulder before stepping aside to allow Britt to enter. Her brother stopped short at the sight of her. Did she have “thoroughly screwed” written on her face? She gauged the distance between Britt and Deke, calculating whether or not Britt’s fist could make contact with Deke’s jaw.
But he didn’t punch Deke. He stared at her, a mix of emotions torturing his beloved features. No matter how much her brothers insisted on babying her, they rarely saw her in a vulnerable position. Which was likely why Britt went ballistic.
“Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?” Britt demanded. “Shock isn’t something to dick around with.”
“Because I refused to go.” She sat up a little straighter. “You know how I am when I set my mind to something.”
“Did the bastard touch you?” Britt asked in a low, almost unintelligible voice.
At first she thought he was referring to Deke, which caused her to glance up at him. Britt caught her reaction.
“Don’t keep something like that from me, Evie.”
Deke stepped between them. “Chill, bro. The intruder didn’t touch her in the way you’re suggesting. But he had a gun.”
“Thankfully, Reid gave me some pepper spray. So I shot him with a good dose of that before pushing him out the window.”
“You pushed him out the window.” Britt’s studied her as if she were a foreign object that needed dissecting. “Why would you do such an idiotic thing?”
“Make yourself big and loud and go on the offensive. The bad guys don’t ever expect us to fight back.”
“Where did you hear that load of nonsense?”
“On one of the morning shows.” She crossed her arms at his look of disgust. “Worked, didn’t it?”
Britt looked to Deke for help.
Deke shrugged. “Can’t say I’m any happier about the situation than you. But she kicked his ass without getting a single bruise.”
Britt ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair and released a breath. And just like that, the tension evaporated in the room. “Randi said the guy knew you.” Britt plopped down in a leather rocker-recliner.
Deke sat at the opposite end of the couch. Although she knew it was suicidal, she wished he would’ve sat closer so she could drape her legs over his lap.
“He asked Evie about her association with me.”
“You didn’t recognize him?”
“No.”
“Any ideas of what this is about?”
“Nothing specific.”
The two men stared at each other for a long, uncomfortable minute, and she realized that Deke had kept his true profession from his best friend.
“Let me help.”
She froze. Would Deke bring Britt—and her—into his confidence. Her body flushed with anticipation, hoping, praying he would voluntarily confide in her—them.
He didn’t.
“You can’t.” Deke’s attention shifted to her for a brief second. “I don’t want your family anywhere near this.” His expression hardened when he turned back to Britt. “Trust me.”
It took a while for her brother to relent, but he finally nodded and stood. “Come on, Evie. I’ll drive you home.”
Anger simmered in her veins. She wouldn’t be shuffled around like a child. “No, thanks. I have my own wheels.”
“Not a good idea for you to drive.”
“Says who? You, Dr. Steele?”
The tension in the room swelled again. Her brother’s patience was never in abundance, especially when he was in protector mode. “Mama will want to see that you’re safe.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, defeated by familial obligation. In a small town like theirs, this sort of news would’ve already made it out to the Hill, and her mom would be worried. “Fine.” Rising, she pinned Deke with a don’t-you-dare-try-to-ditch-me look. “I’ll be back in a snap.”
He didn’t acknowledge her comment, just studied her face as if it were for the last time. A shiver iced her spine.
Sensing her hesitation, he produced his rogue’s smile and nudged her toward the door. “Later, Squirt.”
Lead weighed down the soles of her feet, making her descent of the narrow staircase feel like she was traipsing through a bog. She glanced over her shoulder and found Deke following her progress.
Then he stepped back and closed the door. No encouraging smile or devilish wink to carry her through this separation.
Only the cold finality of goodbye.
32
Eli shut off the engine and let his Honda Shadow 750 coast beneath the crooked barn door. His haven.
Setting the kickstand, he tried to dismount, but a sharp pain shot across his lower back and down his leg, buckling his knee. He crashed to the hard-packed dirt floor. His breath whooshed out and didn’t return for a good minute.
When he finally caught his breath and the pain subsided, he attempted to get to his feet, but his legs couldn’t hold his weight. Keeping his eye on the horse stall, he used his forearm to pull-crawl himself into the familiar shelter. He collapsed onto a mound of rotting straw.
Closing his eyes, his mind wandered back to the hellcat that did this to him. Rage choked him. How could a girl have bested him? One by one, he began devising plans to make her pay for his humiliation. His breathing slowed and his body released its tension.
“Eli, wake up. Are you drunk, boy?”
Through a fevered fog, his bleary eyes focused on his mother, Greta Harwood. A solid, square-faced woman who ruled their home with the same authoritarianism as her husband ruled his business.
“No, Mama.”
“Get out of there, then. It’ll take me an hour to get the shit out of your clothes, as it is.”
Knowing his mother wouldn’t leave until he did as she demanded, he forced himself into a sitting position. But he could go no further.
“What’d you do to yourself now?”
“It’s nothing. Go home. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Don’t you tell me what to do, young man.” She pointed to his shirt. “Take it off. Let me have a look.”
“Mama, there’s no need to fuss—”
“
Elijah Ezekiel Harwood, don’t you dare back talk me. Take your damn shirt off, or I’ll do it myself.” She waved an arm toward the barn door. “Now, wouldn’t that be a fine sight for our neighbors.”
“We don’t have any neighbors.”
She stepped forward, and he held up his hand. “Okay, okay.”
When he attempted to pull his T-shirt over his head, the material caught on something and a scream wrenched from his throat.
His mother turned him onto his stomach. “Lord have mercy. Why do you have a piece of glass sticking out of your back?”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried not to puke. He considered lying to his mother, but none of his attempts to evade her questions in the past had ever worked. “I fell through a window.”
“Don’t have to be a damn scientist to figure that much out. What happened?”
“Daddy had me run an errand, and I got into an altercation.”
“Must have been some altercation.” She prodded at the area. “Hope you showed the other guy what happens when he screws with a Harwood.”
Swallowing back the bile searing his throat, he said nothing.
“Don’t tell me you tucked tail.”
“Hell, no.”
“Language, boy.” She yanked on his T-shirt. “Take that off now.”
He carefully drew the piece of clothing over his head and handed it to her.
“Who did this to you?”
“You wouldn’t know her.”
“Her? A girl got the best of you?”
“She was a woman and a hellcat. Sprayed me in the face and body slammed me.”
“God, forgive me. I’ve raised a pussy.”
Fury flared in his chest. His mother had never been maternal and had always spoken her mind to the point of meanness. To him. She never served up her vitriol to Caleb.
His fingers curled into fists.
“Well, you can’t go to a hospital. They’ll be keeping an eye on those.”
“What about Cousin Benjamin?”
“What could a damn animal doctor do for you?”
“He could stitch me up.”
“How would you explain your injury to that goody two-shoes?”
Roaming Wild (Steele Ridge Book 6) Page 17
