“Are you really sure you want to do this?” I check.
She lifts a hand to my face, and runs her fingers over my scruff. “I’m sure. I want this with you. I want to feel you inside me.”
That’s my undoing.
I think I’ve shown pretty amazing restraint up until this point, but there’s only so much a man can take.
Sitting back on my knees, I tear the condom open with my teeth and roll it on.
Evie watches me the whole time, her eyes unreadable.
Then, I move back between her legs.
I frame her face with my hands. “I love you,” I tell her.
“I know. I love you, too.” She brushes her lips over mine. “Now, stop delaying, and fuck me already.”
A laugh escapes me. “God, you’re such a romantic, babe. What ever happened to making love?”
“Making love, fucking—whatever you want to call it, I just want it to happen. I don’t want to wait any longer.” Her hands grip my ass, nails digging in, as she lifts her mouth back to mine. “Make love to me, Adam.”
I close my eyes on a groan. I kiss her deeply.
Lifting up on one arm, I take my cock in my other hand and run it up and down her pussy. Then, finally, I center my cock on her entrance.
“Ready?”
“I’m ready,” she breathes. Her hands slide up my back, holding on.
She squeezes her eyes shut.
“Eyes open, Evie. I want you with me the whole time.”
She opens her eyes, gritting her jaw.
I slowly press my hips forward, my eyes locked on hers.
I watch as they widen while the tip of me slips in.
“Okay?” I check, panting. I’m breathing heavy. This self-control is a motherfucker, and it’s really taking it out of me.
“Mmhmm.” Her lips are pressed tightly together.
“Try to relax, babe.” I can feel her muscles locked up around the head of my cock.
I kiss her again. Hand cupping her breast, I stroke my thumb over her nipple. “You gotta relax and open up, so I can get in.”
I feel her start to relax beneath me, so I push in a little more, getting halfway, and then I pull back out to the tip.
“You didn’t go all the way in,” she says.
“I’m trying to take it easy. I push all the way in, and it’s gonna hurt you.”
“It’s going to hurt either way. Just do it quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid.”
“I don’t know…”
“Please, Adam. I just want this part to be over with, so we can get to the part where it feels good.”
I don’t know if that part will come for her this time, but I’ll do my best to make it feel as good as I can for her.
“Okay.”
I never can say no to what she asks of me.
I ease in a little, going halfway again, and then I pull back out and slam home.
“Ah!” she cries out, her head pressing back into the pillow, her back arching.
“Evie? Fuck, are you okay?”
I cradle her face, seeing tears in the corners of her eyes. “Jesus, I knew I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, I’m fine,” she pants. “It just hurt a little, but it’s gone now. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
I should, but after hearing her begging me to continue, my own need takes over. I start moving, going as slow as I can.
It’s hard to keep a slow place because, fuck, she feels so good, so fucking incredibly tight. I’ve never felt anything like it.
But it’s not just that. It’s her. What’s uniquely her is making me feel so good.
As I move, she starts to relax. Her legs come up around my back. Her hands sliding up into my hair, she lifts her head to mine, kissing me.
With the feel of her tongue in my mouth, her legs wrapped around me, I can’t hold back any longer. I start moving faster, pumping my cock in and out of her.
She moans into my mouth, and the sound undoes me.
“Fuck, Jesus, Evie, I’m gonna…come.”
My vision blurs as the first hot spurt of my come shoots out of my cock. Then, I’m coming fast and hard inside her body for the first time. And nothing has ever felt better.
My head falls onto her shoulder. Her arms wrap around my neck.
I press a kiss to her soft skin as she starts to thread her fingers through my hair.
Lifting my head, I look at her. Fuck, she looks beautiful. Her face is all flushed, her lips are swollen from my kisses, and her hair is all mussed up.
She’s perfect. And she’s mine.
“You didn’t come,” I say.
I knew she probably wouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want her to.
“I know, but we knew it was likely that I wouldn’t. But you came. Inside of me.” She has a big smile on her face.
“You look pretty happy about that fact.”
“I am. No more virgin Evie, which means we can have sex whenever we want now.”
I let out a low chuckle. “Sounds fucking awesome to me. Let me just clean up.” I give her a quick kiss and then carefully pull out of her.
She winces.
“You okay?”
“Just a little sore. Is that blood?” Her wide eyes are staring at my condom-covered cock, which has little speckles of blood mixed in with her juices.
“Yeah, it’s yours from…you know.” I gesture to her pussy.
She lets out a groan, covering her face with her hands. “Oh God, that’s so embarrassing.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, babe. It’s natural and kinda hot.”
She slides her hands from her face, and I give her a wink before going into the bathroom.
I dispose of the condom and clean up. Then, I get a washcloth and rinse it up with warm water. I take it back out to Evie. I sit on the bed beside her and press the cloth between her legs.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Cleaning up my girl.” I kiss the tip of her nose.
When I’m done, I take the washcloth back to the bathroom and then head straight back to Evie.
Grabbing the blanket from the bottom of the bed, I climb up next to her, cover us both with the blanket, and wrap her up in my arms.
“That was all kinds of amazing,” she says, looking up at me.
I shimmy down, so we’re face-to-face. “Yeah, it was. Really amazing.”
She starts running her fingers through the scruff on my chin. I love it when she does that.
“So, can we do it again?”
A laugh escapes me. “When? Now?” I say at her expression.
She gives me a smile that says yes.
“But aren’t you sore?”
“A little, but it’s not bad.” She runs the tip of her finger over my lips, tickling me.
Capturing her finger, I run my teeth over my lips, alleviating the itch. Then, I graze my teeth over the pad of her finger, and she shivers.
“Well, if you’re really sure you want to, then give me ten minutes, and I should be good to go again.”
She slides a hand between us and wraps it around my cock.
He pays attention immediately, and she raises a brow at his sudden growth.
My girl is awesome. Am I the luckiest bastard in the world, or what?
“Okay, maybe not ten minutes. More like two.” I grin.
She laughs as I roll her onto her back, taking the sound in my mouth as I kiss her, and I slip my hand between her legs, getting her ready for round two.
Since that day in Adam’s office, the one where I went to yell at him about the divorce settlement and ended up having sex with him before he was harsh and cold toward me—not that I didn’t deserve it, but just maybe not at that moment—yeah, that day…well, we’ve been going at it regularly since then.
Meaning, we’ve been having sex at any given opportunity. It’s been happening for nearly two weeks now.
Don’t ask me what it means or what’s going on because I have no clue.
We don’t talk. We just fuck.
And I’m afraid to ask him in case I don’t get the answer I want.
When I left his office, I was hurting from his words, but I couldn’t think of anything else but him. I couldn’t get his smell or taste off me, and I didn’t want to.
I’d missed him for ten long years, and I wasn’t ready to let go. And as it turned out, he felt the same—well, that, or he just really likes fucking me.
Probably the latter.
The next night, he turned up at the café, right at the end of my shift. It was almost like he knew what time I would be finishing.
He stood there in the doorway. He didn’t have to say anything. I was pretty sure I knew why he was there.
But he said, “That he wanted to talk.”
I said, “Okay.”
I locked up the coffee shop and followed him back to his bungalow in silence the whole way. My stomach was churning with nervous excitement, my heart racing.
He opened the door, letting me inside his place.
The moment it shut, I was pushed back up against it, and his mouth was on mine.
Our clothes were gone soon after. I was on his bed with his head between my legs, and I was crying out his name. Then, he was inside me, screwing me like it had been too long since the last time.
When it was over, we both lay there, on separate sides of the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Then, Adam got up and went into the bathroom. When I heard the shower go on, I took that as my cue to leave.
So, I dressed quickly and left.
And we’ve been doing the same thing every night since. Adam turns up at the end of my shift, and then I follow him back to his bungalow where we go at it for a few hours. Then, he gets up and showers, and I leave.
There was one night when he didn’t turn up. My stomach churned, and I felt sick. I felt like I’d lost him all over again even though, in truth, I hadn’t really gotten him back.
So, I went to his bungalow and knocked on his door.
He didn’t answer, so I left.
And like the idiot I am, I cried myself to sleep that night, thinking about where he was and what he was doing—or whom he was doing.
I didn’t see Adam for two nights. It was a long weekend.
Then, on Sunday morning, I remembered him telling me that he only stayed at the hotel during the week.
I felt marginally better.
All day on Monday, I waited, feeling like I was holding my breath, and I didn’t exhale until I saw him standing there in the doorway, looking like the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Now, it’s been three more days of the same. I’m currently lying in his bed, staring at him, and he’s looking right back at me.
I haven’t left yet.
But I know I’ll have to go soon. I always go right after he gets up.
“Come to Malibu with me this weekend.”
I freeze. Is he…is he asking me to spend the weekend with him? In Malibu…where we met. Does this mean—
“Grady’s been asking to see you.”
Oh.
“Grady? You still talk to him?”
“Yeah. I surf with him every weekend. Max usually comes, too. Grady and I got close after ”—he looks away—“you left.”
A pain pierces my chest. I feel like I’m bleeding out.
“So, you’re asking me to come to Malibu with you because Grady wants to see me?”
His eyes come back to mine. “What other reason would I ask for?”
None, clearly. “Will Max be coming?”
It’s not that I don’t like Max because I do. I think he’s great. But I’m guessing he doesn’t like me so much anymore after I broke his best friend’s heart.
“No. He’s got other plans this weekend.”
“Oh, okay.” I sit up, resting against the headboard. “So, will I need a hotel room?”
I don’t want to be presumptuous and think we’ll be staying anywhere together.
“No, I have a place. You can stay in the spare room.”
Okay.
“Great. Thank you. It’ll be good to see Grady again.”
Come on, Evie. Sure you want to see Grady, but really, this is about you doing anything you can to spend time with Adam, outside of the bedroom.
Not that he said we’d be spending time together. He might just leave me to spend time alone with Grady and let me sleep in his spare room because he’s a good guy.
Adam gets up from the bed, heading toward the bathroom, like usual.
I slip my legs over the side of the bed, covering myself with the sheet, preparing to go.
“And, Evie”—he stops in the bathroom doorway, turning back to me, his hand resting on the frame—“me asking you to go to Malibu doesn’t have anything to do with you and me—not that there is a you and me. Going to Malibu is not some romantic getaway where we get to relive our past and pretend things are okay. Because they’re not okay. I’ve only asked you because Grady’s been bugging my ass about seeing you since he found out you were back. Is that clear?”
Crystal.
His words are like a knife in the chest. This isn’t something I didn’t already think. But I had hoped…I don’t know what I hoped. He doesn’t feel what he used to for me that is obvious enough. I killed those feelings years ago. I know he’s just fucking me. But still…it hurts like a bitch. I have to fight the tears from entering my eyes.
“It’s clear. But I didn’t think there was anything more to it than going to see Grady.”
“Oh. Well, good then.” He turns abruptly and disappears into the bathroom without another word.
And that’s me dismissed.
Taking a deep breath, I pick up my discarded clothes from the floor just as I hear the shower turn on.
As stupid as it sounds, I hate that he showers immediately after having sex with me. It’s like he can’t wait to get the smell of me off of him.
When we were younger, Adam always said he liked the smell of me after sex. He liked it even more when I smelled like him.
And when he did shower after sex, it was always with me, and he’d end up dirtying us both back up again once we were in there.
But we’re not kids anymore.
We’re not the same people we were back then. Everything is different, and that’s because of me.
And after Adam’s little speech, I know for definite that the only thing he wants from me is sex.
I was just fooling myself, thinking maybe he could at some point want more. But why would he? I hurt him in the worst possible way.
I dress quickly, so I won’t be here when he gets out of the shower. I have a feeling he wouldn’t like it very much if I were still here.
I slip my feet into my shoes and grab my bag. Then, I let myself out of his bungalow.
I walk the short distance to my car, which is in the staff parking lot.
When I reach it, I get in my car and turn the engine on.
“Here With Me” by The Killers is playing on the radio with Brandon Flowers lamenting about a lost love that he wants back.
I feel a pinch in my chest and then a sting of tears in my eyes so fierce that I can’t fight them.
Grasping ahold of the steering wheel, I drop my head against it, and I cry.
I cry for the choice I had to make all those years ago. I cry for not really having a choice.
Back then, I thought giving up Adam would be the hardest thing I would ever have to do in my life.
Now, I’m not sure.
Because this here right now, having him but not really having him, is far more painful than anything I’ve ever felt. And I’ve felt a lot of pain.
Back then, at least I could cling on to the hope that some part of him still loved me, that I wasn’t alone in my feelings.
But whatever Adam did feel for me died a long time ago, and I am more alone now than I was in those ten years without him.
There is nothing worse than loving someone when they don’t love
you back, especially when you have only yourself to blame for it.
The song ends.
I dry my face with a tissue, take a deep breath, and turn the radio off. I put my car in drive, and I stay the whole journey home in complete silence.
“I can’t believe it’s been a year.” I tilt my head back from its place on Adam’s lap, so I can look up at him.
We’re on the beach by my rock—well, our rock now. We’re celebrating our one-year anniversary with a picnic—well, pizza and sparkling water, like we had on our first date, so it’s a less fancy type of picnic. But it’s perfect for me, just like he is.
It’s a year to the day when we first talked on the beach. I did wonder if our anniversary should have been tomorrow, the day we had our first date, but Adam said it was today. He said the day we first talked was the start of us.
He can say the sweetest things at times.
“I hope you’re not saying that like it’s a bad thing.” He grins down at me.
“Of course not, silly.” I tap his chest with the back of my hand. “It’s a good thing, a really good thing. Just…time sure does go by quickly.”
“Especially when you’re having fun.” He winks.
He’s totally referring to sex, the huge amount of sex we have.
Since we slept together for that first time, not a day has passed when we haven’t had sex.
I’ve had a lot of fun with Adam teaching me all kinds of new things and positions. And I know for sure he’s had a lot of fun, too, because he tells me so often.
I stare back out over the water, thinking about time. We don’t have much of it left.
Time is creeping up on us. Adam will have to leave for Harvard in just a little over a month.
I’m not ready to let him go. I don’t feel like we’ve had enough time together.
And I worry that he’s going to go to Boston, and make a whole new life for himself that doesn’t include me, and I’ll lose him.
I let out a small sigh.
“What’s up?” He taps my forehead with his fingertip.
“Nothing.” I look up at him. “Just thinking about when you have to leave for Boston. Stupid really. I shouldn’t be thinking of it on our special day.”
“Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
This is what he always does whenever I bring up Boston—changes the subject or distracts me with something else.
When I Was Yours Page 18
