by Deb Rotuno
“Yes, ma’am.”
She stepped out of my arms, holding a hand out for me to take. “Good, because we’ll pretty much have the house to ourselves. Wes is working, Mom and Dad are at some sort of school dinner thing, and Aunt Tessa won’t bug us; she’ll probably stay in the guest house. We can do whatever we want.”
I laughed nervously, raking a hand through my hair. “And what do you want?”
She gaped at me. “I want to finish our book, Evan! Damn, we’re only a couple chapters in. I wanna know what happens.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Dani, it’s not Sherlock Holmes; there’s no mystery as to how it’s gonna go.”
Dani’s adorably loud bark of laughter was the best sound I’d heard yet. She grinned, biting down on her bottom lip as she tugged my hand. “Exactly!”
Chapter Twelve
Dani
EXCEPT FOR THE SOUND OF WATER running in the kitchen, my house was quiet when Evan and I walked in. Aunt Tessa glanced up from the sink to smile our way.
“Hey, kids,” she greeted, shutting off the water and drying her hands. “Don’t mind me. I’m going back to the guest house. There’s a marathon of Housewives of some shit or another. I plan on losing a few IQ points to it but gaining a pound or two with the tub of ice cream I’ve successfully hidden from my son.”
“Sounds like a damn good date, Aunt Tessa,” I teased her, kissing her cheek.
“Trust me, it’s better than some dates I’ve actually been on.” She shot us a wink and squeezed Evan’s shoulder when he chuckled. “There’s plenty to eat in the fridge—leftovers, sandwich stuff, frozen pizza—so enjoy. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she sang on the way out the back door.
“That doesn’t leave much,” I muttered, smiling when Evan laughed again.
“Why does she keep her ex-husband’s last name?” Evan asked out of the blue.
“She’ll tell you it’s because she didn’t want Wes to be different after the divorce, but really, she hates the idea of changing everything back to Bishop. Don’t mind her; she’s crazy, which explains Wes completely, right?”
Evan grinned and nodded. “She’s funny, though.”
“She is that.” I stood on my toes to kiss his cheek. “You know where everything is, so make yourself at home, baby. I’m going to change clothes.”
“Okay,” he said softly.
Once I was upstairs, I decided to take a shower. When I was dressed again, I found Evan at the kitchen table with his laptop open and half a sandwich on a plate beside him. I grabbed something to drink out of the fridge and then took the seat next to him. With the most adorable smile, he slowly pushed the plate my way.
“Eat your sandwich, Evan,” I said through a chuckle, but he was already shaking his head.
“I only wanted a snack, so…share with me?”
I was pretty damn sure Evan was the sweetest person I’d ever met, and it had nothing to do with the extremely yummy sandwich he’d just given me. It was even more than the hot chocolate and warm sweatshirt he’d given me the other night when the rain had made me cold. It was everything about him. It was his quiet demeanor, his honest nature, and his gentleness. It went beyond polite—which he said his mother had tried to instill in him. It was just…Evan. Even sitting there at my table, typing an outline for his next paper that was due, he radiated a certain sort of comfortable ease, a feeling of being adored, and the knowledge that he’d never, ever hurt me—with either words or touch. He was incapable of the latter. Because if anyone on the entire fucking planet knew how badly words could sting, it was the sweet, gorgeous thing sitting beside me.
And I was completely in love with him.
The urge to tell him was strong, so strong that I almost choked on the last bit of bread I popped into my mouth. Sputtering, I shook my head when Evan glanced up from his typing.
“Dani?”
“I’m o-okay.” I chugged some soda, finally smiling at him. “Wrong way.”
He grinned, shaking his head. “I won’t be long,” he promised. “I just…thought of something, and I wanted to get notes down.”
“I will read without you, Evan Shaw,” I teased him as I took the plate to the kitchen sink, giggling when he narrowed his eyes dangerously. “In fact,” I started slowly, “I do believe it’s in your bag upstairs.”
I grinned but then darted out of the kitchen, through the living room, and hit the stairs, taking them two at a time. I heard the chair scrape across the kitchen floor and the thump of heavier footsteps pounding behind me. However, his long legs made it easier for him to catch me, and I squealed when a strong arm caught me around the waist, only to lift me up off the floor.
“Evan!” I cracked up, which made him chuckle.
He set me down behind him, reaching for his bag, and he pulled out the book we’d started. Holding it up, he asked, “Where?”
I took his hand, giving him a tug. “My room. And it’s your turn to read to me. I read the start of it!”
He laughed softly, but it was a nervous laugh.
“We could switch off on chapters,” he suggested once we were in the room.
“We could,” I agreed, pushing him until he sat down on the edge of my bed.
I didn’t know how to tell him that I desperately wanted to hear his voice bring life to the romance novel in his hand. I was most likely playing with fire picking that book from the start, but he wasn’t complaining. He also didn’t seem to understand what he did to me. There wasn’t the local southern drawl that Wes carried or the sometimes-harsh northeastern accents I’d heard from others at school. No, his tone was calm and soothing; even when he was upset or bothered, it barely rose to a yell. He was sweet and gorgeous, yes, but his voice was soft, with a bit of rasp to it. When he spoke to me, it was with total honor, and I felt comfortable and relaxed, but I also wanted to hear him read some not-so-respectful things. And Evan had such a respect for the written word that I knew he’d give it his best, no matter the subject.
He flipped through the pages to find where we’d left off and then gazed back up at me with an adorable expression of expectancy.
“Sit back,” I told him softly, waiting until he was comfortable at the headboard of my bed before situating myself between his legs.
Leaning down, he brushed the lightest of kisses to my cheek but then pulled my hair away so he could see the book. “Ready?” he asked, and I nodded, leaning back against him.
“Sophia returned to work the following Monday with a new outlook on how to deal with her new, overbearing boss,” he started, and it was better than I’d even imagined.
I could barely pay attention to the plot, simply because it was almost sensory overload. His chest vibrated against my back with every word. His breath was soft against my neck as he read over my shoulder, and he smelled like soap and sea air and warm man. He read it better than any fucking audiobook I’d ever bought, despite the fact that the damn thing wasn’t exactly Shakespeare. He also seemed to read it like he’d read stories aloud his whole life, and I supposed he had—to his sister and his mother. And that only made me think he’d read his kids to sleep, which caused a whole new set of issues for me.
I shifted a bit, reaching for his free hand and linking our fingers together. The need to touch him was overwhelming. Evan took our hands and wrapped his arm around my stomach to hold me closer but barely faltered in his reading. Though, it was what he was reading that caused me to pay attention…to everything.
“Jack found that he could barely breathe. Sophia brought him to the brink of his sanity with what she was wearing, how she walked, and her glare of disdain. He was tired of her being pissed at him, tired of arguing with her when no one else dared to argue. He found it exasperating and a turn-on all at the same time, and no matter how hard he tried to fight it, he couldn’t keep his eyes from her lips.
“Reaching just past her, he clicked the lock of his office door and stepped closer to her. His hand flat on the door by her head, he leaned
in, inhaling the scent of her. Sophia’s breathing picked up, but she didn’t move from in front of him.
“‘Stop fighting me, Sophia. Stop fighting this,’ he said, his lips meeting hers, and at first she pushed at him, but when the stack of files in her hands fell to the office floor, he took the opportunity to move in closer.”
Turning my head just a bit, I took in Evan’s profile as he read about a heated kiss going from hate and control to something more, something slightly twisted. What was originally distaste for each other slowly changed into a fiery passion that neither could deny.
When Evan’s voice wrapped sensually around words like thighs and nipples and erection, my lips pressed to the tempting skin of his neck, just below the sharp edge of his jawline. His smooth voice pushed the words thong and cock out against my skin, and I literally moaned.
“D-Dani…” Evan murmured softly as I tasted his skin, and it was right then that I felt what all this was doing to him. “I’m sor—”
“Don’t be,” I whispered, reaching up to rake my fingers through his hair. “Is it the book?”
“God, no!”
He laughed softly, his brow furrowing adorably as he shook his head. I took the book from him, closed it, and tossed it to the other side of the bed. I turned a bit in his arms, looking up at him, but decided to try something.
“You don’t like the story, Evan?” I asked him, raising up in order to straddle his thighs. I swallowed nervously at the sight of the bulge in his jeans.
“The guy’s a jerk,” he replied, shrugging a shoulder.
“He is,” I agreed, cupping either side of his face and bringing his lips to mine. “He’s really just a spoiled brat used to getting his way.”
“Guys like that usually do,” Evan countered. “I don’t get what women see in it.”
Grinning, I shifted closer. “Me, either. Then again, I’m partial to sweet and shy.” I smiled at the reddening of his cheeks and his nervous chuckle but decided to taste the other side of his neck. “So it’s not the subject you dislike, it’s the characters themselves?” I asked against his pounding pulse.
“M-Maybe…”
I smirked down at him as he pulled gently at my waist and tugged me closer, and my breath caught at the feeling of him right where I needed him. I was already turned on from the book, his voice, the close proximity of him, so the feel of his erection pressing into me just right almost made my eyes roll back. The most perfect, most amazing sound escaped him when our hips pressed together. The moan was deep, masculine, and sounded so damned needy that it took all I had not to grind down on him.
I brushed my lips across his, whispering, “So…if you hate them, then what’s…” I glanced down to where he was so damn hard against his jeans, which in turn pressed against the thin fabric of my sleep shorts when I shifted again.
His eyes closed and his head fell back to the pillow behind him for a moment. “She’s…Sophia…She’s described…like you—bright blue eyes, long, light brown hair. All I can see is you. Jesus, Dani, please…please be still.”
“Fuck,” I hissed, shaking my head. He really might be the most perfect man ever to breathe air on this planet. “I-I-I…I can’t be still. Evan, kiss me.”
I wanted to tell him to kiss me in order to shut me up from saying something completely stupid or something inappropriate or how utterly in love I was with him. And while that last thing was an amazing feeling, I knew it was too soon.
His eyes were blazing and heated when he opened them, a warm brown that felt like they were piercing through to my soul. He sat up at the same time I moved forward, and we met in the middle with lips and moans, tongues and a light scrape of teeth. Hands threaded into hair—his and mine. But the slow grind of our hips started to build the most delicious friction. Over and over, my hips rolled, and I knew I was chasing an orgasm. Something about using Evan for that made me feel a little guilty but at the same time made it impossible to stop.
“P-Pretty girl, you…You’re gonna make me—”
“Come. I know. Me too.”
That caught his attention, and his expression changed from pained or guilty to something akin to awe or determination or maybe even slightly deviant, because his lips lifted on one side in a half smile.
“Yeah?”
I nodded fervently. “Just…please!”
I’d never felt more adored or more worshiped than I did right then. Evan’s gaze was reverent and beautiful. Even better was the feel of his hands…everywhere—my back, my thighs, my ass. The latter was what sent me over the edge, because he seemed to guide me just perfectly over him. My forehead fell to his, both of us slightly sweaty, as my entire being shattered. I gripped his T-shirt at the shoulder with one hand and his hair with the other, and he took it all, watching me shake in his arms.
However, that seemed to be all he needed to let go. And oh God, was he ever gorgeous! His eyes closed, his mouth fell open, and the most satisfied sound rumbled out of him. It took him a second or two to catch his breath, and once he did, he looked slightly overwhelmed, so I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, burying my face into his neck. He did the same, and I could feel our hearts pounding against each other.
“That was…I’m…” I laughed a little against his warm skin. “I never want to leave this spot right here.”
He huffed a tired chuckle, but his arms wrapped all the way around me. “Okay.”
When I finally pushed back a little, he wouldn’t quite meet my eyes. “Evan, baby…look at me.” Contrition now replaced the heat I’d seen just moments before. “You did…everything right. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about here.” He nodded, his brow furrowing a little, and I leaned in to kiss the wrinkle it caused. “Best orgasm I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah?” he asked, looking rather proud of that statement.
“Oh, yeah,” I sang back in a whisper against his lips. “And that was fully clothed. I may not survive it when we’re naked.” Grinning, I couldn’t help but giggle when Evan’s cock twitched a bit at that statement. “Well, someone’s looking forward to that.”
“Dani…” He laughed, his forehead falling to my shoulder as he hugged me closer. “Is…Is that what you want?”
I kissed the side of his head, but I wanted to see his face, so I pulled at him until he sat back a bit. “What do you want, Evan?”
“You.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I…That’s it, Dani. Just you.”
I kissed his lips, feeling the sting of tears at just how sweet that was. “You have me, Evan. I’m not going anywhere.”
He smiled, and it was that breathtaking smile. “Good, but um…I probably need to…”
“Oh, right. Reality versus literature. They never talk about sticky underwear in romance novels.”
Evan laughed, his cheeks reddening. “Or bodily functions, either,” he added, lifting me off his lap as I laughed. He slipped off the bed but bent down to press his lips to mine. “By the way, Dani…You were…beautiful, and that’s the reality.”
“I…I’m…” I sputtered, because damn, he made it difficult not to just blurt out how I felt about him. “So were you,” I teased back in order to stop myself, and I giggled when he rolled his eyes and left my room to clean up.
Evan
“Ev, you sure I can’t give you a ride out to the house?” Wes called as he locked up Sunset Roast. “Seriously…it’s not a big deal.”
“No, I’m good. My roommate has to catch a late flight out of Panama City, so he said he’d drop me off. I still have to shower and throw a bag together anyway. Tell Dani I’ll be there in about an hour.”
We’d just busted our asses giving the floors of the place a power washing. The café would be closed the next day for Thanksgiving, but we’d be open super early for Black Friday. Dani had invited me to stay the whole weekend, and it worked out that Wes and I could ride into work together for a couple of shifts.
I shot him a wave as I started toward the dorms. I’d been looking forward to the holiday w
eekend like crazy. Every time I stayed at the Bishop house, it was getting harder and harder to leave. It wasn’t just Dani, though she was the major part of it, but it was that house, that home specifically. Leanne and Aunt Tessa treated me like they did their kids. Daniel was amazing to sit up late with and talk to, chatting about books and writing and the options I had. I felt welcomed there, like a member of the family. There was a part of me that should have been sad about that, about the fact that I felt more welcome in their home than the one I’d left in Montana.
And then there was Dani. If her parents knew she sneaked into the guest room when I stayed over, they never said a word. Though I got the impression from Daniel that being surrounded by women made him happier to be ignorant of some things.
The thought of my girl put a stupid smile on my face as I hurried up the stairs to my room. She was all things sexy and sweet and kind, and holy shit, she was patient with me. Between school and work, our time was precious, though we still met in the library between classes. The rare occasion that I’d stay over, we’d lose ourselves in the dark of the guest room. The mere thought of it had my dick twitching.
Ever since we’d lost ourselves in her room that first time reading together, we’d come a bit further. I wanted her to the point of madness most days, but my shyness would sometimes overwhelm me. The first time I’d touched her breast—even over her clothes—I’d thought I was fucking dreaming.
I walked into my dorm room, shooting a wave to Brett, who was battling aliens on his TV. “Let me grab a shower and throw some clothes in a bag, and we can go.”
“Yeah, dude. No problem. Die, asshole!” he yelled at the screen.
Grinning, I shook my head and locked myself in the bathroom. Turning on the water, I stripped out of my work clothes. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my gaze immediately locking on to my scars—the same scars that used to disgust me, made me feel ugly and guilty, now didn’t bother me so much. At least, not as much as they used to. All I could see was Dani’s fingers on them the last time we’d been alone. She’d never, ever made me feel self-conscious about them, even the first time she’d seen them, touched them, and that was when we’d first kissed. She never looked at them with derision; she only saw me. Just watching her fingers trail along each scar, only to move on to my stomach, my pecs, and eventually ghosting down to where I’d been hard for her behind my pajama bottoms…
