by Regina Cole
Gravel crunched under their feet as the lights in the parking lot popped on. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Everly waited for Drake to unlock his pickup door.
Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Charlie had said. That might actually help her at this juncture. If it were up to Everly’s normal modus operandi, she would beg Drake to take her home and spend the rest of the night moaning to her dogs about the fact she was a chicken-shit who couldn’t handle a normal relationship with a man. But Charlie? Charlie was much bolder. Charlie knew what she wanted. If Charlie had just spent the last hour feeling up a delicious hunk of man-candy, and was suddenly faced with a chance of scenery, Charlie would just beckon the man into her lair and finish him off.
That’s it. Be bold. Be daring. Grab life by the balls and just go for Drake if you want him!
She had about ten seconds after Drake helped her into the cab and shut the door behind her to make up her mind. As Drake rounded the truck, Everly closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.
You can do this. Don’t think about it, just do it.
As Drake climbed into the truck and pulled his seatbelt across his lap, Everly’s heartbeat was normal, her breathing was steady, and there was only the slightest bit of tremble in her voice as she said it.
“Want to go back to my place?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she looked over at him. The sigh was like a sucker punch to her guts. Damn, why did he have to be so freaking beautiful? Those dark eyes speared her like they knew every last secret she’d ever had, and that dark hair just begged for her fingers to tangle in it. But his expression was unreadable, and for a long moment she wondered if she’d somehow screwed things up.
“I would love to.” A slow, hungry smile spread across his face, and her belly tightened down low, a throb setting up in her panties. Clenching her thighs together, Everly tried to keep her breathing even.
“Okay. Head toward the rescue, and I can direct you from there.”
The drive wasn’t a long one, but every second was pure anticipatory torture for Everly. She went back and forth, wondering if this was simultaneously the best and worst decision she’d ever made. She’d almost decided to throw the truck door open and make a run for it at the next stoplight when Drake reached over and took her hand.
“Relax, baby girl. You’re in control here. There’s no need to be afraid.”
His hand was big, warm, and strong, and it calmed her fears. She looked over at him, wondering exactly what she had done in a past life to deserve this night with this man. Her earlier questions were all so unimportant now. Even if this never happened again, tonight she wanted to be brave and take advantage of this.
Her directions were clear and confident, and when Drake killed his truck’s engine in front of her house, she was able to exit the truck with confidence. Hand-in-hand, they walked to her front door, and Drake kept up the contact as she opened the door for him. With a brief minute spent to turn her dogs out into the yard and then another in the kitchen to feed them, she marshaled her courage.
It was time. Everly led him wordlessly to her bedroom.
There. She could do this. There was no need to worry, because she was in control.
Lit only by her bedside lamp, the bedroom was full of shadows. The dimness gave her confidence as she pulled him toward the bed. He sat on the edge and watched her, a lustful light in his eyes.
Confident. Sexy. You can do this, Everly Pitts.
Her inner voice cheered her on as she stood between his knees and pulled her polo over her head. The air-conditioned air raised goosebumps on her skin as she opened the button on her shorts.
Standing there, clad only in her plain, white cotton bra and daisy-printed underwear, Everly smiled at Drake.
“Like what you see?”
He nodded, a mischievous smile curling his lips as he reached out and caught her around the waist, bringing her close to him. His arms were so hot and so strong as he held her tight.
“I want to like what I feel even more.”
“Then go ahead,” she said, marveling even as she said it at the woman who had taken over her body. Who was this bold seductress? It sure as hell wasn’t the Everly she’d been living as for the past twenty-eight years. “Touch me. There’s only one rule.”
“What’s that?” He asked as his hands spanned her bare back. God, his touch sent frissons of electricity straight to her damp and throbbing slit.
“Tit for tat. If it’s not naked on you, you can’t touch it on me.” She hiked an eyebrow at his T-shirt. “So, right now, you’re breaking the rule.”
Without another word, he whipped the T-shirt over his head and it hit the floor. Everly laughed as he pulled her into his arms once more, his bare skin heating her body.
“I’ve always been a happy rule follower,” he said as his hands began to roam once more and his mouth covered hers.
Drake wasn’t sure what had happened to give Everly this dose of siren confidence, but damn if it wasn’t sexy as hell.
She’d winked at him, Goddamn him, actually fucking winked. Now he was kissing her as if he’d lost his fucking mind, which, in a way, he had. And it was all her fault.
Standing there in her skivvies, she’d had the audacity to tell him to strip off his clothes. This girl. The one who’d looked like she was about to jump out of her skin when a handful of teenagers caught them necking down by the lake. He was harder than the fucking bedpost, and with every move he made, he tried to tell her exactly how much he appreciated her impish confidence.
She matched his tongue stroke for stroke, their kiss deepening, her pink lips pressed against his mouth hungrily. Drake groaned deep in his chest as her delicate nails dragged across his bare shoulders.
In a quick movement, he laid back across her bed, pulling her down atop him. The end of her bouncy brown ponytail tickled his ear as she adjusted her position, her sweet thighs parting as she straddled him. His belly tensed as he felt the heat of her delicious core. Her skin was warm all over, but the intense heat there seemed to beckon him most.
But, he’d promised. So he kept his wandering hands confined to her upper half. And since he wasn’t wearing a bra, he let his hands find the clasp of hers. Fumbling for a moment—because her kisses were becoming wilder, hungrier, and he could only do so much at once—he finally released the catch. The straps slid down her shoulders. She tore her mouth away for a moment as he yanked the plain white cotton bra aside and tossed it away.
“Sweet holy Jesus,” Drake said as he stared up at her.
She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, straddling his belly, her hands splayed across his chest. Her mouth was swollen and pink, her eyes a brilliant, hungry blue, her dusky nipples erect on small but perfectly shaped breasts. As if she knew what a sensual picture she presented, she lifted up slightly, her gaze never leaving his mouth.
“You have the most beautiful breasts,” he said as his hand crept up her belly. For a long, poignant moment, he wondered if she would stop him. She’d been so nervous before, so hesitant. Would his touch on her breast be the thing that broke the spell between them?
Whether or not it ended things when they’d just begun, he couldn’t deny either of them the pleasure.
Her sharp intake of breath as his palm covered her breast made blood surge to his groin. He propped one leg up behind her as he felt her, the softness, the weight, the taut pebble of her nipple.
“That feels so good,” she said, leaning forward to press her breast harder into his palm. She bit her lip and he raised his other hand to touch her. She covered his hands with her own, helping him squeeze her flesh as her hips swiveled against him.
She wanted him, and Christ help him, with every breath and heartbeat he wanted her more too.
When he’d finally split with Belinda, he’d gone a little crazy with picking up women in bars, hooking up with casual acquaintances. After all, he’d been with the girl since high school, and he wasn’t the type to screw around on anyon
e, not even Belinda at her worst. Kicking up his heels had been amazing.
But this? This was nothing like those quick, dirty hookups. This was real.
This was heaven.
The heat was building inside him, and she leaned down to kiss him again without breaking the contact of his hands and her breasts. But he wanted to feel her body against his, and as delicious as this was, it wasn’t nearly enough. He pulled away and, with a quick movement, flipped her onto her back. She squeaked in surprise, her eyes opening wide.
“Take off your panties,” he said as he pulled his shorts and underwear off. He stood at the edge of the bed, his erection hard and throbbing. He didn’t move for a moment, letting her look her fill. She hadn’t yet fulfilled his request, but he didn’t doubt that she would. He could be patient, even though his body was urging him to sink inside her at this very second.
“You’re—big.”
The compliment was nice, but the slight nervousness in her eyes wasn’t. Even still, she lifted her hips and wriggled her panties down over her knees.
At the sight of the small, neatly trimmed triangle of dark hair at the apex of her thighs, Drake nearly lost his grip. The tip of his dick had gone damp at the thought of sinking into her, feeling that wet heat grip him, her sweet body welcoming him home.
Condom. Don’t be an asshole, and find a fucking condom.
He knelt beside the pile of clothes he’d dropped on the floor and felt for the pockets of his shorts. Damn it, where the hell was it?
“Here,” Everly said, yanking open the bedside table. “I’ve got one.”
He glanced down at the small, weathered foil packet she handed him. “Thanks.”
It was almost like the first fucking time he’d ever used one of the things, his hand shook so bad. The whole time he rolled on the latex sheath, he was keenly aware of Everly’s eyes on him, desperate to get back to touching her beautiful body and kissing every square inch of her. Once it was on, she raised her arms to him, and he was there beside her in an instant.
Kissing her, touching her, laying over her, Drake was amazed. He’d known this would be good, but he hadn’t been prepared for how good. Had known that he wanted her, but hadn’t known just how much. Had known his body and hers would fit, but was unprepared for how well. She matched him, kiss for kiss, touch for touch, moment for moment. And when her hips raised up against him, clearly seeking his aching cock, he raised his head and looked down at her.
“Are you ready, baby?”
“Please, Drake,” she whispered against his chest. “Please, come inside me.”
He didn’t need any other invitation. With a slow, deep movement, he nudged inside the delicious, wet heat of her.
Her breath burned him as much as the sweet grip of her internal muscles did. For a moment, he stayed still, reveling in the delicious tightness around his cock. But then she shuddered and arched her back, and he was lost in the feel of her.
Slowly at first, he slid out, then in, shallow and deep, pumping his hips into her. The hardness of her nipples grazed his chest, her fingers gripping his back as her sweet thighs clamped around his hips. Harder and faster he moved, her inner muscles gripping him and beckoning him harder and faster into her.
He wanted more, she wanted more, and he would happily give it to them both. He wanted to lose his damn mind and pour every bit of himself into her, but he couldn’t, not yet, not before she came first.
He reached between them and found her clit, that swollen little nub of wet heat that was nestled in her slit. She bucked against him, her cry in her throat, and gently he caressed her in time with the strokes of his cock. Once, twice, three times, her keening cries increasing in intensity with every flick of his fingers. Wilder and wilder she cried, bucked, moved, clawing at his back and moaning his name as he pumped into her.
“Come, Everly, feel me fucking you deep and hard. I want you to scream. I want you to feel my fingers on your sweet, hot little clit, and I want you to come. You feel my hard cock? Feel how much I want you? This is how much, Everly.” He drove home, pressing down with his fingers at the same moment.
She shattered, her body spasming and gripping him, shuddering and screaming as her orgasm wracked her. And he lost himself then, shaking as his come poured from him like a hot, convulsing flood.
There, in her bedroom, he collapsed beside her, gathering her close to his chest.
Hell. Who could have expected that?
The stupid phone wasn’t working. That was the only explanation.
Belinda flipped the damn thing screen-down again, reaching for and nearly missing the half-empty cosmopolitan. It was her fifth. Sixth? Eighth? Who the hell knew? Who the hell cared?
He hadn’t called her back. The rat bastard.
Not knowing where else to go, she’d ended up in the hotel bar, waiting for his callback. But now it was late, and she was drunk, and she had no fucking clue what to do.
With a groan, she pillowed her head on her arms.
This was such bullshit. She’d hauled her ass all the way out here, and he wouldn’t even sit down and have a conversation with her?
The last couple weeks of their relationship played in a highlight reel in her head. Drake had been so excited about that stupid promotion. He’d known he was a shoo-in. Belinda wasn’t stupid. She could see the writing on the wall. If he’d snagged that job? He’d be stuck in that fucking firehouse for years, if not forever.
How would he have learned the ins and outs of his family’s investment company while he was running around playing woo-woo fire truck?
She’d gone straight to Daddy and fixed that problem. He didn’t know she had anything to do with his losing the chance at the job, she was sure of that. Daddy was much too careful for that. But when he’d come home that night?
“Dammit,” she said, draining the rest of her cosmo and signaling to the bartender for another.
The argument had been one of their worst. They’d had some doozies in the past, when he wasn’t toeing the line. He was the man, and as such, he was supposed to keep her on a pedestal where she belonged. A little course correction was necessary from time-to-time, like when he bitched about her lack of help around the apartment, or when she’d put her brand new Macbook on his credit card without telling him first.
But this one had put all the others in the shade.
He’d called Belinda selfish. Her. Selfish. Puh-lease. He had it all wrong! She was looking out for his best interests.
“But how can I tell him if he won’t fucking talk to me?” She picked up the phone and stared at the black screen again.
“Hey there, beautiful.”
Belinda shot a glare at the masculine voice next to her, only to blink in surprise. “Fuck o—well, hello yourself.”
He was tall, lanky, and dressed in a designer suit. His teeth flashed white as he sank onto the barstool next to her.
Hm. This might work. Maybe if she sent Drake some pictures of her with this tall drink of water, he’d get jealous.
It was better than her only other plan—which was drink herself stupid.
9.
Everly shifted in bed, not opening her eyes. Damn. Why was she so sore? Her body was burning in all kinds of weird places.
With a grunt, she rolled over, and hit something hard. And hot. That smelled an awful lot like sexy man.
Oh, shit.
Her eyes flew open and she bolted upright, clutching the sheet to her naked chest.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
Beside her, breathing evenly, his dark eyelashes dusting his cheeks, was Drake fucking Hammerfell. In her bed. Naked. Because she’d slept with him last night.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered as she climbed out of the bed, hoping like hell he wouldn’t wake up. Fortunately, luck was on her side and she was able to slip from the room unnoticed. It was still early, only about six-thirty, but she was used to being up with the sun. Maybe Drake would sleep in for a while and give her a chance to process things.
In the hallway, two sets of doggy eyes stared at her as she dashed to the bathroom for her robe. Jacques, the poodle, gave her a downright dirty glare as she belted it.
“I know, I kicked you out of the bedroom. I’m sorry. Want to go outside?”
They both perked up at that, and Everly escorted them out the back door. She dropped a coffee pod in the machine, and a few minutes later, took her cup full of caffeinated courage onto the deck to watch her mutts sniff around the shady backyard.
Steam curling up around her face, Everly sank down onto the wrought iron patio chair and sighed. Wow. This—was totally not like her. She’d only had sex twice before in her entire life, and never after a first date. Had she gone too far?
A bark at the corner of her fenced-in-yard yanked her attention back to the present. “Arrow, leave that squirrel alone. It’s not a racing lure, you can’t eat it.” The greyhound ignored her, happily barking his fool head off at the fluffy-tailed rodent that didn’t have enough sense to leave the zip code.
With her fingers curled around the heat of the cup, Everly stared into the distance, searching for answers. They had to be there somewhere. How should she feel about this? Who was this strange person she was becoming? Did Drake think she was easy? Too forward? Had she done the right thing?
“Got any more coffee?”
Startled, she almost dropped her cup, hissing when the scalding black brew dripped onto her fingers.
“Sorry,” Drake said, stepping onto the deck and taking the cup from her. He set it down on the wrought iron table and cradled her reddened fingers in his hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Here, let’s run some cold water over this.”
“It’s okay,” Everly said, pulling her hand away. “It’s not a big deal. Let me make you a cup.”
She darted away from him, not looking at his face. She couldn’t. If she saw disgust, or disappointment, or anything like that in his eyes, she’d be done as a human being forever. Later she’d face him and figure out his opinions on the night they’d shared. Now, she was going to make coffee.
