by Liz Crowe
“Evelyn! Hold up!”
She turned and came face to face with him, closer than was necessary, but suddenly she didn’t care anymore.
“Can I talk to you a minute?”
The immediate crowd around them fell silent. She frowned as her scalp tingled.
Shit. Get control of yourself. He’s just being nice. He probably has some size-two skinny-bitch fan club waiting somewhere. How could he not? He couldn’t be interested in her anymore. They were friends now, at her insistence. Just that. They were colleagues, nothing more or less.
Besides, the extra pounds she carried around now put her firmly out of serious consideration as sexy.
She lifted her chin, resisted the urge to tug on her too-tight shirt, and gave him a look she prayed he’d interpret as cool and aloof, not panting and horny.
Horny? Jesus, where did that come from? She tried to move away, keep her balance, maintain her distance.
“Congrats, Ross. A celebrity now, eh? Glad your salary negotiations are done already.” She frowned when he took her arm and guided her firmly away from the cameras, his lips inappropriately close to her ear.
“Remember, we need to talk. In private.”
Staying silent, she let herself be led out of the cavernous hall filled with increasingly drunken idiots, past the line of security, and into a darkened hallway. Once they were alone, she pulled her arm out of his grasp.
“What the hell? We need to be in there, Mr. Walking Press Release.” Her throat closed when she made the mistake of meeting his eyes. The deep sapphire snap of his gaze held her, bringing back way too many memories of their time together with Austin. She repressed a groan at the long-blocked images racing through her skull.
Reaching out, she ran trembling fingers across the tight red curls on his jaw, unsure why she wanted to touch him, but needing it more than she needed anything at that moment. He closed his eyes. Time seemed to stretch between them. She remembered his reticence when it came to anything resembling emotion and decided to speak first.
“I have no idea what you’re doing right now, but…” Her voice barely registered in her own ears. The pounding heart she’d sustained all day grew louder. “I should go.” She took a step to the side.
Go. Now. Before you make a giant mistake.
He mirrored her, letting his tap handle-shaped trophy fall to the floor with a loud clank. He cradled her face in his huge hands. “I don’t know either, but—” He swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, then back at her. “I’m going with it, if that’s okay with you.” His lips hovered over hers. She could barely breathe. The sounds of the fest echoed down the empty hall. Familiar odors of stale beer stung her nose. “Because if I can’t kiss you in the next five seconds, I will make a huge, embarrassing scene.” His infectious grin forced a smile and a sigh when he finally touched his mouth to hers.
It started out tentative but picked up urgency. Once he parted her lips with his tongue, he kissed her so hard her ears rang. He kept his body separate at first, but by the time he’d swept into her mouth, she had no more qualms.
She wrapped her arms around him, clutched him close, and moaned when he pressed her against the wall. Tearing herself away, she struggled to get control. He touched his tongue to her cheek, tasting her tears. “I can’t,” she murmured, eyes tightly shut. The unmistakable heat of his erection pressed against her. “I. You— This is…” Austin’s face wafted across her vision.
“Shh, my love.” He nipped at her earlobe. Keeping one hand propped on the wall, he ran the other hand down her back and cupped her ass. She sighed and repressed thoughts about the extra padding on her body. After the disastrous breakup, she’d gone into a spiral of ice-cream-and-booze-addled grief, and the twenty pounds she’d added to her frame refused to budge.
“You are perfect. Exactly as a woman should be.” He made a low hum in his throat. His mouth found the dip between her collarbones and he cradled the swell of her breast. “I have missed you, so much.” His soft German accent ramped up her libido. “And I’m not waiting any longer.”
She shifted, allowing the thigh he shoved between her legs. He dove into her mouth once again, his hands all over her ass, back, breasts. Her nipples ached, requiring contact. Her clit pulsed against the inside of her soaking-wet panties.
He yanked her T-shirt out of her jeans, shoved it up, and pulled her bra aside. Lowering his lips to one rock-hard nub of flesh, he sighed against her skin as if in relief.
She threaded her fingers in his hair, tugging it free of the leather tie and relishing the silky strands in her eager, shaking hands. “Harder,” she ground out. “Please, Ross.” She couldn’t believe the words coming from her mouth, but she let them flow. “I need it, ah, Jesus!”
In one smooth motion, he had her jeans popped open and his hand down into her panties. The rich smell of her arousal enveloped them. It had been so long she’d honestly believed she would never feel this way again. But it all came rushing back in a whirl of erotic recollection.
She cupped the impressive bulge in his jeans, the memory of what lay underneath the denim taking her breath away.
“No,” he growled against her breast and pinned both her wrists over her head. He sucked her nipple so hard it brought more tears to her eyes and dampness between her legs. “I’m touching now. You must wait.” She angled her hips, eager to get him deeper. “Oh God, Evelyn, I want to taste you.” His eyes sparkled in the darkness. “But, in the meantime, I must hear you come.”
He stroked her clit with his thumb and plunged two fingers inside her. Capturing her mouth once more, swallowing her groans, he slid his fingers in and out, all the while grinding his cock against her leg. She gripped the bunched muscles of his arm.
She spread her legs, needing more. He sank his fingers in deeper. Her body flushed, the hallway closed in on her, and the orgasm bowled her over her so hard she cried out, heard his name escape her lips. Loudly.
Wave after wave of ecstasy drowned her senses, shutting off all noise, all vision.
Ross had offered her the most erotic experiences of her life a mere twelve months ago. But she had cut him off. Like she had Austin. A tiny flame of regret blazed in her soul. She’d been so quick to judge. So eager to think the worst of the man she had loved.
“I’ve missed the sound of your voice so much.” He hovered just out of reach. He nuzzled her neck. “I want to hear you cry out my name again and again. Dear God, I have missed you, Evelyn. Everything about you.” Grasping the back of her neck with his free hand, he slanted his mouth over hers once more. The kiss spoke volumes about his neediness and the last of her defenses slipped away.
Face stinging from so much contact with his beard, knees on the verge of collapse, she stared up at the ceiling. As if sensing her need for space, he pulled his fingers out of her body and sucked them into his mouth, eyes closed with reverence, then owned her mouth with his again, giving her a taste of herself. She threaded her fingers in his hair once more. He broke the kiss and gazed into her soul.
“I need you,” she whispered. He smiled—a lazy, sexy thing that made her nerves do another erotic tap dance. She mentally smacked herself. Why would she say that? Other than the fact it was true.
Keeping his gaze on hers, he zipped up her jeans, tucked her brewery T-shirt back in the waistband and cupped her ass, grinding his erection against her. She leaned in and bit down on the skin of his neck, tasting his sweat. His hips thrust against her. She smiled. “Now. If not sooner.”
“I am all yours. But later. As you said, we should get back. And we still need to talk. About Austin.” His hands’ slow journey from her ass, to hip, to waist, breast, and then her face made her tremble in anticipation. Damn, if she wasn’t ready to drop trou and jump him right there in the hallway. His mention of Austin’s name did nothing to quell her desire. His next moves didn’t help.
“I want you to think about this.” He nipped her neck. “And this.” He ran a thumb across her stiff nipple. “And this.” He put her palm agai
nst his straining zipper. “Because—”
“Ross! You down there?” a deep voice echoed through the space.
Evelyn jerked away from him, logic flooding her brain. Ross didn’t move, his incredible blue gaze locked on hers.
“Ja, who wants to know?” He put a palm against her flushed cheek. She shook her head to clear it. This man was her colleague now, for God’s sake. She nearly wept with embarrassment.
Ross’ gaze darkened. “What the fuck do you want?” he shouted at the disembodied voice.
Unmistakably male footsteps echoed down the hall. He sighed and stepped back from her, adjusted the bulge under his zipper, and grabbed the trophy where he’d dumped it before kissing her. She fled, face burning with embarrassment.
Ross watched her go, jaw clenched at the deep ache in his gut. He didn’t like holding off, delaying his own satisfaction, and his balls declared their unhappiness loud and clear. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That amazing experiences they’d shared had haunted him, especially when she’d cut him off after the disaster with Austin. But something about her that made him protective and horny all at once had flared today, forcing him to act.
“Don’t ask me about it, all right,” Austin had insisted when Ross had asked, angrily, what he’d done to ruin things with Evelyn. “I mean it.” And Ross had to respect the finality of that. He’d never been one to dig too deep, emotionally speaking, so who was he to insist anyone else act differently?
But it had confused him, hurt him all over, recalling the intensity of the love Austin and Evelyn had shared. All he knew of the breakup was what Evelyn had told him. And no matter how many times he tried to insist that Austin was not with Valerie in any way, shape or form, she refused to listen.
He was in for some interesting times ahead, that much was certain. He put his fingers to his lips, smelling and tasting her again, which rendered his efforts to soften the massive erection straining his jeans somewhat moot.
This is a mess, Ross. Stay out of it.
But he was incapable of that, and he knew it now.
“Is she, I mean, uh,” he’d said to Austin, trying to decide the best way to determine exactly where things stood between them the day he’d agreed to leave the west coast and run Fitzgerald Brewing.
“Do whatever you want with her,” Austin had said, his voice devoid of emotion. “She and I are finished.”
But Ross knew damn good and well that was not the case. Unfortunately, at that precise moment, all he wanted was her. And he would have her, that very night. Austin’s apparent screw-up with her be damned.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“No, no, really, guys. I’m exhausted.” Evelyn motioned for the check. Her head swam with gin and remorse. She’d allowed herself to be corralled into an after party once the day’s expo work was done and the last drunken beer taster had been ejected from the convention center. “I’m calling it.”
Amid congratulations and promises of rain checks, she made her slow way down the narrow steps to the surprisingly luxurious restrooms.
She liked staying at the Oxford when in Denver, more out of tradition than anything else. A little shabby, but cool as hell, it boasted the best martini bar in the city. And she didn’t risk reminders of Austin too much since he always preferred the downtown Marriott with its huge suites.
She glared in the mirror over the sink. The same five-foot-nine-inch, former happy fiancée of the most amazing man in the world, now twenty pounds overweight, with a desperation in her eyes that made her ill, female met her gaze. She hated the image of herself lately.
The echo of Ross’ rough German-accented voice made a blush rise from her cheeks. “I want to taste you.”
What a colossal mistake. How could she have done that with him earlier? Groping and dry humping like a couple of teenagers at a house party. Ugh. She made herself sick.
Austin’s face danced across her vision. She’d nearly gotten past the throat-choking agony that usually brought. But it all fell in on her again. That amazing moment with Ross at the convention center had somehow brought back Austin’s memory as bright and sharp as a razor’s edge. Biting back more tears, she looked down, trying to regain her composure, hoping she could hold it together for the rest of the festival.
When a large hand dropped onto her shoulder, she flinched and turned. Ross stared at her for a split second, then pulled her to him before she could protest, crushing her against the hard warmth of his chest, silencing her with a tongue-tangling kiss.
She let go of the final vestige of propriety, the last little bit of logic, and wrapped her entire body around the huge, gorgeous man who’d apparently followed her into the restroom with one thing on his mind.
Shoving away her inner protests, she reached down to release his cock, humming in her throat at its familiar velvety-skinned steel in her hand. When she wiped her thumb across the pearling moisture at the tip, he gasped with pleasure, then pushed her back against the wall and had her jeans down and off within seconds. All thoughts of her failed relationship faded. Her focus now zeroed in on the man she’d had once as lover and a friend, needing a connection with him so badly her throat had closed up with emotion.
“God, Ross,” she gasped as he shoved up her shirt and lowered his lips to her nipples, tugging at them as he ripped her damp scrap of lace panties into two pieces.
“Ja, my darling, my Evelyn,” he muttered into her flesh. As she reveled in the tumble of blond hair between her fingers, he started crooning softly in German. She leaned her head against the wall, her emotions tangled with chaos, but her body locked in on a single goal, namely satisfaction and renewed connection.
“Wait, do you have…?”
Damn, she was out of practice.
Ross raised his face from her breasts, a rubber packet in one hand. He ripped it open with his teeth and handed the latex circle to her. She shoved his shirt up as he braced himself against the wall, sighing with pleasure while she licked her way down his pecs. She flicked his nipple with her tongue then made her way down and sucked the head of his thick cock into her mouth, reveling in the salty deliciousness of him. His hips thrust forward, his fingers wound in her hair. On her knees, she licked down the length of him, cradling his heavy balls in one hand.
“Ach. Stop, you are going to—” He yanked her to her feet. “Put that thing on me.” His eyes twinkled and he lowered his amazing lips to hers while she rolled the condom down his length.
She sighed as he lifted her, forcing her legs around his waist and held on. He turned them so her back was against the wall as he slipped inside her one incredible inch at a time.
“Hold on, my lovely,” he muttered into her hair, his voice husky and low. “Ah…you feel just like I remember.” He pressed deeper, then retreated, before burying himself in her, reaching up high and grinding his pubic bone against her clit.
The hard wall against her back, Ross holding them up, the sensation of his body in and out of hers all combined to bring her to the brink of orgasm in a heartbeat. She could hear Austin crooning to her, encouraging her to release her fantasies to him that first weekend.
Ross moved faster, pinning her once again with his intense blue stare. Their combined labored breathing and the musky scent of their shared desire wound around them. His hips rocked against her, bringing stars across her vision.
“Dear God,” he breathed into her neck. “Come, my darling. I can feel how much you want to.” He shoved harder, going deeper than ever, grunting with the effort. She held on, letting him take her, in public, against the wall like some kind of horny teenager unable to find anywhere else to fuck but in the bathroom.
“Oh! Yes!” The orgasm scorched up her spine, enveloping her, blurring her vision. She locked onto his lips, needing that connection. His tongue swept into her mouth. His hips took on a harder, faster rhythm. He kept kissing her, moaning into her mouth, his entire body shaking with energy as he came.
He broke their kiss and gave a massive shudder.
>
When she put first one, then the other leg down, she was surprised when her knees gave out. Ross grabbed her before she hit the floor, pulling her close for a deep kiss. Trembling, holding back tears, she allowed the intense memories through the brick wall she’d built over time—let them wash over her, drowning her in so many emotions she couldn’t pin them all down.
His scent—all man, with an undercurrent of ever-present malt and hops and yeast—made her wobbly and brought everything she missed about Austin roaring back, along with her long-suppressed desire to be right there, in Ross’ arms.
Shaking her head, unwilling to meet his eyes, she tugged her clothes back into place. She started to speak, to protest, to apologize. He lifted her face up to his.
“You are so beautiful.” The same words he’d spoken to her the first time they’d made love. He kissed her with a tenderness and longing that spoke of something more than the moment they’d just shared.
“I’m far from that, trust me.” She ducked away, her face hot with embarrassment. Surely the man was drunk or something. What could he possibly want from her? “I’ll, ah, see you around, okay?”
He looked puzzled. When he touched her face, she refused to lean into his hand.
What did he think? They’d toddle out of there together, to his or her hotel room?
Her whole body reacted to that lovely possibility as she opened the door without a backward look and ran out and up the stairs, her heart thudding, the pulse between her legs nearly as loud.
Dear Lord, she was a sad-sack, desperate cliché. She had let a man fuck her standing up in the women’s room. Not just any man, either. The magnitude of what she had done bowled her over, blinded and deafened her.
She shoved the old-fashioned key in the lock and slammed the door behind her. “Shower. I need a shower.” She turned the water to the hottest possible setting and crawled under the spray, shivering and berating herself nonstop. Shampoo poured down her body, as she attempted to scrub away the embarrassment, the delicious scent of Ross, the abject mortification at her behavior.
