Melanie sinks back into the sofa, returning to her conversation with Peyton, but I catch her stealing glimpses of me saying goodbye to Evan; honestly, I don’t care what she sees.
He strokes my cheek with his knuckles, and then tucks a lose strand of hair behind my ear. He kisses me quickly, not wanting to draw too much attention to our moment. “Goodnight, love.” His lips dance along my jawline. “Oh, and Friday night, you’re cooking for me.” His chest vibrates with a hearty laugh as his lips pull into that lopsided grin that, before meeting Evan, I was sure was only fictional.
By the time he leaves, Melanie is not so patiently waiting for me at the kitchen table. She asks, “Can I make you some tea, Mom?” But I know what she really means is, “sit your butt down and fill me in on every single detail.”
Reaching under the cabinet to get a dishwasher tablet, I laugh at her transparency. “I think I’ll pass on the inquisition for tonight, Mel.” Since the dishwasher is just about as old as Melanie, any kind of conversation would be pointless anyway. Mission accomplished: score one for Mom.
I guess transparency is genetic, because she sees right through my plan. She loops her arm around my waist and we walk up the stairs together. Squeezing me tightly one last time before heading to her room, she quips, “Fine. You’re off the hook for tonight, but tomorrow, I want to know everything.”
I can’t stifle the snicker of laughter that bubbles past my lips. “You got it. Love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
I walk toward my room, feeling as if a cloud of happiness is buoying my weight. A sense of completeness glows around me, and even though he’s not here next to me, the “goodnight, love” text, followed by a winky face lulls me to sleep, just as his strong and secure arms would.
Melanie is practically vibrating with anticipation the next morning. She’s just dying to get the scoop on my love life. And it’s not that I don’t want to share, it’s just that talking about romance with my daughter is just . . . well, it’s just a bit weird. I don’t in any way want her to ever think that loving someone else diminishes how much I loved − and still, in so many ways, love her father. My willingness to fight, as fiercely as I possibly can, for my newfound happiness, takes over and I give her the dirt for which she’s digging.
“He’s cute,” she smirks as the words fall from her wryly-smiling mouth.
Flashes of Evan’s chorded muscles moving smoothly above me, dance in my head. The hot sensuality of everything he does plays back in my mind like some kind of erotic instant replay.
“Who?” I play dumb, trying to cool the heated images of Evan making love to me.
“Evan. Besides, Reid was the only other guy here last night and that would just be weird.” Melanie shivers and mocks a gagging noise. The giggles bubble in my chest easily as she reaches out to grasp my hand. “I’m really happy for you, Mom,” she adds sincerely.
Giddiness fills my chest as I finally let myself share how I feel about him with Melanie. “He is pretty cute, huh?”
“Well, sure. If you like salt and pepper hair, a chiseled face and a muscular body, I’d say so!” Melanie quirks an eyebrow and smirks at me.
After we recover from our fit of girlish laughter, I fill her in on mine and Evan’s rather brief history − leaving out our recent “break” of sorts and conversation about kids.
When Melanie candidly asks about what I see in my future where Evan is concerned, I freeze momentarily. I know how I feel, but I can only hope he feels the same way. And, I know she’s an adult and all, but I don’t want to let her down if things with Evan don’t pan out. “Oh, I don’t know. It just seems like such a fuss to change how things are. He’s got his life and I’ve got mine. That’s good enough for me.” I’m deflecting and I’m sure she can tell, but when a look of sheer compassion fills her young face, I reach out and grab her hand.
Her eyes roll up skyward as she pulls her hand from mine. “But what if your life and his life came together somehow. Maybe it could be some kind of “our” life, she air quotes, mocking my earlier deflection.
But no matter what I try to conceal from Melanie, I can’t lie to myself any longer. I do want that. I want an “our” life. I just have to tell him that.
Melanie and I spend the rest of the morning catching up. Well actually, I spend the rest of the morning telling her all about my life, and she clams up big time the second I ask her about hers. That’s okay though. She’s always been like that and I know in her own time, she’ll open up to me.
When she says she’s going to spend the day with Maddy while I go to a few yard sales with Linda, I feel better knowing she’ll at least open up to someone.
And speaking of opening up to someone, Linda walks through the front door just minutes after Melanie and Maddy step out of it. She walks right into the kitchen and makes herself a cup of coffee. Sliding into the seat next to me, she gives me the once over as her lips pull up at the corners.
“Last night went well, huh?” she says around the lip of her mug.
“Yeah, definitely did. I talked with Melanie this morning too. She seems really happy about me and Evan.”
“It’s difficult not to feel happy for the two of you. You’re good together. That much is plain to see.” She pats my hand lovingly and then pulls a paper out of her purse, outlining our stops for the morning.
It’s cheesy as hell, but I can’t help but feel like there’s love mingled into the warm spring air. I pick up a few things for Evan along the way − some decorative accents that his condo desperately needs.
We grab lunch at the local diner. When we’re all done and as we’re waiting for our salads, I fold my hands together in front of me, and lean across the table.
“I think I love him.” I drop that out there, as I begin nervously fidgeting with the napkin.
“You think?” She tosses her wadded up straw wrapper at me as she laughs not-so-quietly.
“It’s that obvious, huh?”
“You wear your heart on your sleeve. Of course, it’s obvious. Maybe not to him, though. Have you told him?”
“Not yet. With things being a little stilted with him the last few weeks, and then being nervous over him meeting Melanie, I haven’t had the guts to say it. And then of course, I’ve only just been able to say it to myself. The thought of telling him makes me so anxiety-ridden.” I hold my palms out to her. “Look. My freaking hands are sweating right now just thinking about it.”
“Eww, gross!” Linda shoves my hands away as the waitress strolls over with our food.
My stomach is doing all sorts of flipping and flopping, so I just poke at the lettuce. “What if he doesn’t love me back?”
Linda shrugs her shoulders, and around a mouth full of food, mumbles out, “Well, you’ll never know unless you tell him. And,” she pokes her fork at me, “you’re not getting any younger sweetheart. Better let him know now before you end up with even more cobwebs.”
“Oh, like you’re some kind of spring chicken!” I kick her shin under the table.
“Ow!” She grabs her leg as she pulls a face at me.
We finish out the meal chatting about everything and nothing. It turns out that after Evan and I became an item, those were her words and not mine, she opened up to the idea of dating again—more seriously, not just the occasional fling. So far, she hasn’t had much success, but she’s hoping the date she has planned for this weekend will change things up where her love life is concerned.
Me, I’m just happy that my best friend finally decided she’s ready to give men another chance.
I’m sure she feels the same way about me.
That Friday night, I make plans with Evan − I just don’t tell him. I leave work early and head over to his condo after picking up some things.
After knocking on his door, I wait patiently and just hope that he’s not too busy. His truck is in the parking lot, so I know he’s here, but after two minutes, he still hasn’t answered. I knock again, but still no answer.
> I try the knob and it’s unlocked, so I crack the door open slightly and peek into his living room. He’s not there, but I hear music buzzing through the space. I step inside and pinpoint the loud bass of Pink Floyd pounding out from his bedroom. He’s singing along, loudly and horribly off key, but it’s genuine and full of life. Hearing the words of “Wish You Were Hear” fall from his lips makes them sound even sweeter − the rhythm more sensual, the beat more erotic.
I drop the bags next to my feet, lean up against the doorframe and watch him as he pulls a plank for hardwood flooring out of the box next to him. The floor is bare except for the small area he’s completed in the corner. There’s a small table saw set up and tools scattered all over the sub flooring. Completely void of furniture and a rug, the sound fills the room harshly, echoing off the walls and bare floor. How he still hasn’t heard me, I’m not sure. It probably has something with the sheer volume of the music, but I am thoroughly enjoying the show without him noticing me just yet.
With his shirt off, I see every rippled plane of hard muscle gracing his back. Watching him feed the flooring carefully through the guide on the saw, makes my mouth dry. His biceps flex and pull; his ass looks like a work of art shifting under his threadbare jeans. They slide down his narrow hips slightly and he just lets them hang there, unknowingly letting me enjoy the show.
When the song comes to an end, and he’s done trimming the plank of dark, maplewood flooring, he grabs a bottle of water and chugs down half of it in one large gulp.
“Hi,” I mumble, my voice all breathy and filled with lust.
He turns at the waist, swiping his chorded-with-muscle forearm across his mouth. “Hey,” his word holds a moment of surprise, before licking his lips seductively. “You look breathtaking, love.” He scans my outfit − a tight black skirt that falls in a cute ruffle right above my knees and a pale pink shirt with pearly buttons down the center. I’ve come to realize he has a thing for legs so I purposefully chose a pair of shiny, black three and a half inch heels to wear today.
Strutting over to me, he reaches into my hair and pulls out the clip that’s holding it up in a messy knot. “There, that’s better.” He kisses my cheek as he inhales the vanilla-scented cloud that my falling hair provides.
Pressing my hands to his chest, I stretch up on my toes a little, pressing my lips right next to his ear. “No. You look . . .” Words escape me, so I trace the tip of my tongue in a steamy, hot line around the outer shell of his ear. I move my hands from his chest, enjoying the feel of his chest hair under my fingertips, and coil them around his neck as I assault his skin with my lips. A groan of pleasure rumbles in his throat as I lace my fingers into his hair, pulling his neck to the side. Lightly grazing my teeth over his skin, I nip gently. “You are absolutely edible.”
His mouth attacks mine, roughly and passionately. The velvety slide of his tongue against mine sets a pulse of desire coursing through my body. A small flicker of pain erupts at the nape of my neck as he grabs a fist full of my hair, holding me in place as his tongue plunges hotly into my willing mouth. The pain vanishes quickly and he licks and nips along my jawline and down the exposed skin of goose bump covered neck. Mumbling against my skin, he asks, “What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting later?” He reaches down and grabs my ass, hitching my leg over his hip.
“You don’t seem too upset,” I rasp as I grind my hips against his rock-hard erection. His only response is a low groan that I feel vibrating against my chest, pebbling my nipples even more than they already are. In two long strides, he moves us to the wall, sandwiching me between him and it.
“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he says in between sensuous kisses that leave my skin feeling as if it’s been licked by a flame. Holding both of my wrists in one hand above my head, he stares fiercely into my eyes as his other hand works the buttons of my shirt. He pulls it out of the waistband of my skirt and gazes down at my breasts as they threaten to fall out my sheer lace, pink bra.
My nipples press against the thin fabric and his hungry stare makes them harden even more − almost to the point of being painful. “Please, Evan,” I beg, but all he does is lick his lips and lean his forehead against mine.
“Please, what?” he challenges before moving his mouth across my neck and collarbone. Arching my back, I shove my breasts into his face, hinting at what I want.
“Real subtle, love,” he chides as his fingers dance across my ribcage, coming close to, but never touching me where I want him to. “But if you want something, you’re going to have to tell me. I want to hear you.”
The moan that flies out of my mouth and reverberates through the empty room is one born out of desire and frustration. We haven’t made love in weeks and now he wants to test me, to make me beg. Turned on and beyond annoyed, I arch my back again.
He simply tsks at me as he licks his lips. “I don’t want anything between us this time, or ever again.” He holds my chin in his hand, angling my head to his. “Now, tell me what you want,” he demands, sending shivers of desire racing throughout my overheated body.
“I want your mouth on me,” I whisper, arching again. He rewards me with an open-mouth searing kiss to the upper swell of my breast. “More,” I cry when his lips are gone. He snickers at me, but releases my captive wrists. After stripping me of my shirt, he tosses it on the floor. Hooking his thumbs into the straps of my bra, he slides them down to the middle of my upper arm.
Lowering his head to my breasts, he nuzzles and licks, but doesn’t do anything to quench my needs. “Evan, please, your mouth . . . on me . . . now. Please . . .” The frantic panting of my words must set him loose, because without any warning he’s got both of my breasts squeezed together—almost painfully. Alternately pulling each nipple into his mouth through the lace of my bra is probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Both the sight and the feel of his tongue flicking against my nipples sends a rush white hot need straight to my core.
“Yes . . . yes . . . yes . . .” The words fall out of my mouth in time to the grinding of my hips.
“So sweet, love. You’re so fucking sweet.” He tears my bra the rest of the way off and kisses his way down my stomach. Rucking the skirt up over my hips, he pushes it up so that it bunches at my waist. He kisses across the span of my hips before placing one hot kiss to the juncture of my thighs, over the satin panties. He kisses again, trying to nudge my legs wider.
Kneeling before me, he looks up at me. His stormy-grey eyes could melt the panties off any red-blooded woman. It’s obvious what he wants, but I decide to throw his words back at him. “I want to hear you, Evan,” I mock sexily, arching a seductive eyebrow.
The sultry smile that pulls on the corners of his luscious mouth makes my legs tremble. Of course, he notices me shaking, but that doesn’t stop his torment. Gliding his hands up my thighs, he hooks his thumbs into thin string holding them in place. Just when I think he’s going to pull them down, he simply tugs them to the side.
“You want to hear me, love?” he questions pointlessly, as he runs his tongue along the seam of my wet flesh. “Fine,” he adds, before probing his tongue just a little deeper. “I want you to spread your legs as wide as you possibly can.” His palms move roughly to my inner thighs, spreading me as per his demand. “And then,” he says softly, as he nuzzles against the small tuft of neatly trimmed hair, “I’m going to make you come with my mouth, drinking in every last drop you can give me.” I whimper at his words and lace my fingers into his hair. “Does that sound okay?” he teases, placing heated kisses on my inner thighs.
“Evan, yes. I want that. Make me come. Please, make me come.” My words push him over the edge of his control.
Holding my lips back with his thumbs, he licks and kisses my heated, wet flesh, before dipping his tongue deep inside. Using just the tip of his tongue, he traces lazy circles over my hardened clit. Lost to the feel of his tongue flicking over the tight ball of nerves, I cry out in pleasure when he plunges two thick fingers into me. Curl
ing them forward, he massages and stretches me until I’m pulsing and clenching around his fingers.
He works his tongue in long, broad strokes from my center back over my clit in a rhythm that has me coming wildly on his lips. “Ahhh . . . Evan . . . I’m coming.”
Grinding against his mouth, I ride out the last waves of pleasure, before standing and unbuttoning his jeans. Shoving them down his hips, he toes them off and kicks them to the side. His arm slides under my knee as he rests my leg in his elbow.
In between wet, passion-filled kisses, he mutters against my lips, “And now, what I’d like to do,” the wide crown of his erection nudges at my pulsing entrance. “I’d like to slide into you, slowly, before making love to you up against this wall.”
I don’t have time to respond as he inches into me. Stretching and filling me deliciously, I feel like my control is dangling dangerously off the edge of a cliff. When he buries himself all the way, it’s a plunge I can’t avoid taking. “God, Lucy. You’re so fucking hot. You feel . . . so . . . you feel like heaven. All wet and silky . . . fuck . . .” he growls into my mouth.
He pulls all the way out before driving right back in. Pushing hard up against my hips, he rubs against my clit. Stroke after stroke, he builds my desire before it’s too much to take.
“Evan, your hands. Use your hands . . . rub my clit, please, make me come again. Please, baby.” He smirks sexily as me − a searing hotness claiming his face. Having gone so long without sex meant that our first few times were filled with a good bit of shyness and me fumbling to voice my desires. Now, just hearing me say that word “clit” has him all sorts of riled up.
He dips his thumb into my mouth and I lick the pad before he lowers it to our joined bodies. Timing his touch to the rhythm of his thrusts, it only takes mere seconds before my inner walls clamp down around his cock, pulsing and beating with the massive force of my orgasm.
“Fuck . . . Lucy, I feel that. God . . . I’m . . .” He cradles the back of my head before pounding into me with more force than he’s ever used before. I claw and scratch at his bare back, needing to feel him even closer to me than he already is.
The Love Series Complete Box Set Page 105
