I’d forgotten how good it felt, letting someone else get me there, and I wanted him to do it again. And again. And again, again, again. I wanted him to make me come until I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but crave more of his touch. Because that’d always been how it was with him. The want, the need, the constant craving, those brief, powerful moments when all thought fled and all I could do was feel. And I’d missed it more than anything. I’d missed it more than I’d ever let myself remember or acknowledge.
There was no stopping it now, though.
I was barely cognizant, still trying to catch my breath, still trying to reconcile what this meant that he’d awakened this within me after I’d tried for so long to suppress it. I didn’t know how long I stood there, eyes closed, my forehead pressed into my hand while I panted against the wall. I didn’t know how long Riley had been gone from between my legs before I felt him standing behind me, his bare skin pressed against mine. He ran the tip of his cock up and down against my slit, and I couldn’t utter a word of protest before he found my entrance and pushed in. I was so wet, all it took was one smooth stroke, and he was fully inside me. Our joined moans mixed in the otherwise quiet loft.
Except this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I didn’t like it like this, with him behind me, me pressed into the wall, and he knew it. I didn’t like him—or anyone—behind me or over me at all. All I ever felt was trapped. Out of control. I hated all of it, especially during sex, and if he’d remembered how I liked my nipples played with, then he sure as shit remembered this.
“Riley, no, not like this.”
He shifted his hips, bending his knees and tilting my ass up, and then he slid in even deeper, and we both moaned. He didn’t move then, just sat deep inside me, his cock pulsing. Then he leaned forward, his lips brushing my shoulder. “You sure? Feel how deep I am. You’ve got all of me in you like this, baby.”
He pulled back the barest fraction and pushed inside again, and I sobbed out a breath.
“Evie, tell me. Okay?” His voice was strained, barely controlled, his hands shaking as they gripped me. All that power restrained once again for me.
It helped to know he was as far gone as I was.
I closed my eyes at the feel of him behind me—both terrifying and arousing—the feel of him inside me, owning me, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to pull away. Couldn’t bring myself to do anything but breathe, “More…”
“Like this?” he asked as he pulled out and slid back in. Slowly, so slowly, he pumped in and out of me, letting me feel every single inch of him, the head of his cock dragging against that spot inside me that sent me spinning, but it wasn’t fast enough. Wasn’t hard enough. Wasn’t anything but torment.
I reached back, dug my nails into his thighs. “Don’t be an ass. Fuck me, don’t tease me.”
He growled, then gripped my hips, pulling me back to him as he drove deep, and I moaned loudly, curses falling from my lips. Over and over and over again, he thrust into me, fucking me exactly how I wanted it. He reached up, wrapped my ponytail around his hand, clutching it in his fist and tugged, pulling my head back and to the side, and I choked out a moan, closing my eyes at the sensory overload. And then his teeth were on me, tugging on my earlobe, scraping the column of my neck, pressing into the juncture of my shoulder, and I pulsed around him, my second orgasm breathing down my neck.
“Fuck, Evie, I’ve missed this. Missed feeling you come on me. Squeeze my cock, baby. Let me feel it again. Let me feel you.”
And then his fingers were strumming my clit, and he navigated my body so expertly, it was like no time at all had passed since we’d last been together. He took me where he wanted me to go, played me how I needed it—fast then slow then faster yet. Played me how he needed it, too, so he could bring us to the edge at the same time. And then I was screaming and coming around him and he was groaning my name as we both fell into that blissful void together.
Chapter Thirteen
RILEY
Even though I didn’t want to, even though I wanted to stay inside her, wait until I got hard again and fuck her all over again, I gripped the base of my cock, holding the condom in place—thanking God I’d had one in my wallet—as I pulled out of her, groaning at the loss of her heat.
After placing a soft kiss on her shoulder, I walked to the bathroom to get cleaned up before heading back to her. She’d moved away from the wall, but her back was to me, her shoulders stiff and practically up to her ears, and she was already tugging on her tiny little shorts. Before she could get her tank top over her head, I reached out and wrapped my hand around her arm, turning her toward me. Her skin was soft and I wanted to reacquaint myself with it. With her. I wanted to run my hands over every inch of her body, memorizing the things I’d forgotten and learning the ways she’d changed. She tensed under my hand, pausing in her movements as her tank top fell to the floor once again, but she wouldn’t look up at me, and fuck no, that wasn’t how this was going to go down.
With my other arm, I reached out, curling my hand around the back of her neck, using my thumb under her chin to tilt her face toward mine. That mask was in place again, that shuttered look in her eyes, and I wanted it gone. Erased. I wanted it to be like I’d seen when I’d kissed her. When I’d had her back against the wall, then again when she’d reversed our positions. When I’d been on the floor, my mouth on her pussy while she’d stared down at me.
That was my Evie. The woman here, looking at me with her blank eyes, was Genevieve, and I didn’t want her in my space. In our space.
“This shouldn’t have happened,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction.
The old Riley would’ve let it drop. But the old Riley wasn’t here anymore, and I was going to push to find out where her head was, because something didn’t add up. Something about her relationship with her fiancé didn’t make sense.
If Evie was my fiancée, if she’d agreed to marry me, if I’d had her in my bed, I sure as shit wouldn’t be satisfied with a few fucking texts while I was across the ocean, thousands of miles away.
I tightened my fingers around the back of her neck, pulling her closer to me. Bending my knees so I was eye level with her, I said, “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
She twisted away, out of my grasp, and glowered at me, crossing her arms over her naked breasts. “How is that bullshit? I’m engaged, Riley. Engaged.” She held her hand up to me, the too-big ring glinting obnoxiously on her slender finger. Like I needed that piece of jewelry as a reminder that she’d promised herself to another man. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she said, “And I just let my ex-boyfriend fuck me up against a wall. What part of that seems like a good idea to you?”
“I don’t know, the part where I was inside you seemed like a fan-fucking-tastic idea to me. And one I’d like to do again very soon.”
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, and turned to grab her tank top once again. “I’m not discussing this with you. It was a mistake, plain and simple. And it’s not going to happen again. It’s over. It has to be.”
I went up behind her, gripping her upper arms, and pressed my cheek against hers. “This isn’t over, baby, and you know it. You want it as bad as I do.” I brushed my thumbs up and down her arms. “In fact, if I pulled you over to the couch and sat down, I bet I could tug you right on top of me, spread those legs, and get you to fuck me exactly how I want you to. Get you to ride me until you came as many times as you needed.”
She didn’t make a noise—she was too stubborn for that—but her teeth were digging harshly into her lower lip, and her breaths were getting more rapid, her chest heaving with each one. Her cheek was hot against mine, and I knew if I was facing her, if I could look into her eyes, I’d see the heavy swell of desire in them.
“You want that, don’t you? You want my cock all over again.” I turned my head and kissed her neck, and she let her head drop back against my shoulder, just like she’d done earlier. I swept my
lips along her skin, swirling my tongue around her pulse point, and then continued until my mouth brushed her ear. “You want me, you loved every minute of that, and yet you’ve got that ring on your finger. I know as sure as I know my name that you’d never cheat. Not even with me. So I think it’s time you told me what the fuck is going on.”
EVIE
Riley’s body behind mine, against mine, his breath on my neck, being held safe in his arms, felt like coming home. Though not like any home I’d ever known. He felt like comfort and peace and happiness and safety, and I wanted to wrap myself up in the feeling, wrap myself up in him. I wanted to go boneless, let myself sink into his body, let him lead me over to the couch and proceed to do exactly as he’d described.
But I couldn’t.
Despite the need coursing through my veins, I’d made a promise to someone who meant a lot to me, and I couldn’t break that. Not even for Riley—the one person I’ve ever truly given the most of myself to. He hadn’t taken my virginity, but he’d been my first in all the ways that counted.
That night all those years ago, fumbling in the dark of his apartment, the rough material of the couch against my legs as I’d straddled him, staring down into his face, hadn’t been perfect, but it’d been perfect to me. Because with whispered words and grappling hands and that look—that heavy-lidded look that said I was his everything—he showed me that sex could be about more than just control.
And because of that, my relationship with him had been the one I’d compared everything else—everyone else—to.
In all honesty, nothing had even come close since him, not even Eric. In between my relationships with them, I’d never involved myself with a guy for more than a few hours in an anonymous bed somewhere—long enough to get that satisfaction I needed. Long enough to feel that power rushing through my veins, to feel like I was still the one in control of my body. My choices and only mine were what had led me to those beds, to those men.
I hadn’t felt that release in so long, though, and it was wearing on me. It would be easy to blame the fact that I’d slipped, that I’d allowed Riley inside me, on that, but that wasn’t it. And I wasn’t sure I was willing to write off our connection as a momentary lapse of judgment. I’d been cognizant of every decision I made, and this had been no different. I’d wanted him—still wanted him.
Clutching the tank top to my bare chest, I swallowed and closed my eyes. “I can’t tell you that.”
Riley stilled behind me, his hands tightening almost imperceptibly on my arms. Then he exhaled, his soft breath washing against my bare skin, and I shivered. “You can tell me anything. Anything. You know that.”
And I wanted to cry at his words. I wanted to turn around and press my face into his chest, breathe him in and exhale with every secret I’d ever been harboring. Because I so desperately wanted that to be true, for so many reasons. But I couldn’t trust that.
“It’s not my secret to tell.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked, dropping his arms and coming around to face me. His eyes were hard, his jaw clenched, and he should’ve looked ridiculous standing there in front of me, all pissed-off man, buck naked and radiating anger. Instead he looked like everything I wanted to get lost in. “Whose secret is it? What the hell’s going on, Evie?”
When I didn’t say anything, didn’t open up any more, he stepped forward, bringing our bodies together. He cupped my face in his hands, leaning down until our noses were barely an inch apart, his eyes darting between mine. And they were so full of fear, so full of anxiety—for me.
For me.
“Are you in trouble? Is it more than this? Is something else going on? Baby, please. Tell me.” His thumbs stroked my cheeks reverently, like I was delicate. Like I’d break at any moment. Like he was scared I’d float away right in front of him or vanish into thin air.
The worry in his voice was what finally broke me. Riley had always been sincere, wearing his heart on his sleeve. And it was almost his detriment. It was also the one thing that got to me every time, broke down any walls I’d ever tried to keep between us.
All but one.
Shaking my head, I said, “I’m not in trouble. No more than you already know, anyway.”
His muscles relaxed the barest whisper, but his body was still coiled tight, the uncertainty still sitting heavily on his shoulders. “Then what? You can trust me, Evie. It’ll stay between us. I swear.”
I blew out a breath, seeing the honesty in his eyes, hearing it in his voice, and knew with my entire being that I could trust him. “What do you know about Eric?”
Chapter Fourteen
RILEY
“Has he hurt you? I swear to Christ, if that bastard’s hurt you, I’m going to kill him.”
“No, no … he’d never hurt me, Riley. Ever.” Her voice was sincere, her eyes clear. She reached out and brushed her hand down my side, resting it against my hip. “You don’t ever have to worry about that. But I need to hear what you know about him.”
I thought back to what Gage had filled me in on, the two of us going over the files he’d had while Madison and Evie had been in the back bedroom. Reaching up, I rubbed my thumb and forefinger over my eyes as I clenched them shut, trying to remember all the details. “Eric Caine, thirty-three, never been married. Son of Republican senator Caine. Followed in his dad’s footsteps when he enlisted in the army at eighteen. Then continued in his dad’s shadow as he went to law school once he was out and now works for the firm his father started—one of the biggest in Minneapolis. But he has plans to eventually go into politics. Again, just like his father.” I dropped my hand and raised an eyebrow. “How’d I do?”
She nodded. “You hit just about everything.”
I thought back to the files, going over all the pertinent details in them, and couldn’t remember anything that I’d left out. “What’d I miss?”
“I need you to promise me this stays between us. You can’t repeat it.”
I nodded, the sincerity in her voice telling me she wasn’t bullshitting. “Of course.”
“Not even to Gage.”
“Just between us. I can keep a secret, Evie. Especially one from you.”
She looked at me for a minute, her eyes darting between mine, then she took a deep breath and exhaled. “Eric’s gay.”
I could only stare at her. When the shock wore off enough for me to speak, I said, “He’s what now?”
She sighed and stepped back, finally tugging her tank top over her head—a shame to see her breasts covered up, but it was probably for the best, considering what had just come out of her mouth. I followed her lead and grabbed my boxers from the floor, stepping into them, then walked behind her to the couch. She sat sideways, one leg curled and tucked under the other, and I sat facing her, waiting for her to explain what the hell was going on.
She blew out a deep breath and said, “We met last year at a coffee shop. I was still in school full-time, so I worked part-time as a barista there for extra cash since I didn’t have much. Aaron had managed to work my new records so I was able to get a full scholarship, but that didn’t cover everything.”
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she glanced down at her lap, at where our knees touched, then looked back up at me. “Eric would come in every day and talk to me. He was so nice, not like some of the creeps who’d come in and hit on me, harass me, really. And one day, after about a month of nearly daily conversations, he asked me to dinner.”
Even after hearing Eric was gay, that didn’t stop my stomach from clenching while listening to the details of Evie going out on dates while we’d been apart. I hadn’t imagined she’d been abstinent in all that time, but knowing she hadn’t been and actually hearing about it were two very different things.
She rested her elbow on the back of the couch, settling her cheek against her hand, and continued, “Like I said, money was tight. He happened to catch me on a week when it was exceptionally tight, and I figured if nothing else, I co
uld get a free meal out of it. So I went. And I was more surprised than anyone that I’d actually had a good time. The entire evening, he’d never tried anything physical with me, and it was refreshing. That was our first date, at least in the eyes of the public, and what started our dating life.
“We’d go out to dinner, smile and laugh—despite the lie our engagement is based on, we do have a real connection, so that was never faked. After four years of being alone, it felt nice to have someone to talk to again. And I’m not going to lie, it felt nice to not have to worry about money for once. I’d never had that, not once in my entire life, and not having to worry about it was this giant weight lifted off my shoulders. But there was never anything physical between us. Nothing more than brief kisses on the cheek—always inside my apartment, never in public. While we were in public, though, he was affectionate, just not sexually. He’d hold my hand, put his arm around me, lean in close when I was speaking, but there was no kissing, no PDA like that. And that had been when I’d started to get suspicious that something more was going on.”
I knew why she’d be suspicious. Evie was a fucking bombshell, especially now with her waves of red hair, with the features that had sharpened in the years we’d been apart, and she oozed sexuality, so for a man to have no interest in that … yeah, something was up.
She continued, “It all changed one night when we were out to dinner. I’d been in the bathroom and came out to see our waiter leaning toward Eric, slipping him a piece of paper. When I got to the table, Eric played it off, but I saw something when the waiter looked at him. Combined with how he acted around me, things were clicking into place. I had a pretty good idea what was going on, especially after he’d told me how strict his upbringing was, how conservative his parents were, and the role his father played in guiding his decisions. So I confronted Eric in the car before he dropped me off.”
“And he told you? Just like that?”
She nodded. “He took a chance. Told me he’d managed to keep the secret his entire life. And now, with his father a conservative senator and him looking to follow in his footsteps, he didn’t think he could come out. That was where I came in. He knew about my past—well, the past I created. But he knew I was alone, that I was struggling. He gave me an answer to that. We both got something out of it.”
Exposed Page 9
