by Katie Reus
Of course now that they were headed back to his place she knew Evan would want to talk about what she’d just said. Under different circumstances, she would be leaning on him.
Just like she used to. But the past was over. There was no more “them.”
And damn it, she needed to get on board with that. Her head could, but her heart was another matter.
Chapter 18
“Would you please say something?” Isla asked as they stepped into Evan’s condo. Residual aches lingered throughout her body but she knew it wouldn’t last long. Or she hoped not. She couldn’t take much more.
He shut the door with more force than necessary and clicked the lock into place. “I just can’t believe you left like that.” She could tell he was trying to rein in his anger—but he wasn’t doing a great job of it.
“I didn’t leave. I was just finding another—”
“I know what you said. It’s bullshit. I don’t even know how you snuck away,” he muttered.
“The man the police suspect of attacking me is in custody. I wasn’t in any danger. And I didn’t feel like watching that woman hanging all over you! Maybe you should have been paying more attention.” She shouted the last part, surprising herself and him if his stunned expression was any indication. She wasn’t a yeller, never had been. But he was bringing it all out right now.
He blinked, straightening, his entire body language changing. “What woman?”
“You know very well who I’m talking about.”
He stared at her for a long moment and then she saw when it clicked into place. “Sabrina? She’s friends with my family and I’ve never been with her.”
“I’m very aware of that fact.”
“Then what the hell?”
“I guess I got jealous,” she muttered.
Now he stared at her in pure shock. “Why on earth would you be jealous of her? Of anyone?”
“Because I have no claim on you!” she shouted, the words tumbling from her. “This stupid fake relationship is just that. Fake. And when Rodney is arrested, we’ll go back to like it was before.” Only it would be worse. Because she’d gotten a taste of him in her life again and now she wanted more.
He stepped closer, invading her personal space, his masculine scent wrapping around her. “First of all, you have every claim on me,” he growled, looking down at her as if he wanted to kiss her senseless.
And she was definitely going to let him if he tried. “Is there a second of all?”
“Yes.” He cupped her cheek, giving her plenty of time to pull away.
When she didn’t move, his mouth was on hers in an instant, soft and gentle, his tongue teasing hers, giving and taking. She moaned, leaning into him as if pulled by a magnet.
But he pulled back, frowning down at her. “I don’t want to hurt you. We need to get more ice—”
She grabbed his shirt and yanked him down to her. She was sore, but she was fine. More than fine if she got him in the process.
As she tasted him, she savored every second of their kiss, of the way he made her feel desirable and wanted. The sensation of being in his arms again was too much and yet not enough. She wanted more than kisses.
He groaned into her mouth, cupping her cheek again as he gently backed her up against the nearest wall. She arched into him, her breasts rubbing against his chest as she debated if she should start stripping both of them here or wait until they were in his bedroom. When he’d said she had every claim on him, something inside her had shifted.
Breathing hard, he tore his mouth from hers. “I don’t want to do this if you’re going to regret it.” It looked as if it took every ounce of energy he had to get those words out.
“I don’t want to stop.” Maybe she’d regret it, but she didn’t think so. She was going to own her decisions. She wanted Evan Bishop. At least physically. She’d figure everything else out later.
He placed a hand on the wall next to her head, his eyes flashing with hunger. “Stay in my room tonight. Don’t walk out on me after we… If we…”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She reached for him again at the same time he reached for her.
She wasn’t sure what she was thinking, what they were thinking. Except that she desperately needed him—wanted him. She wasn’t sure how much he was capable of giving her or how much she was capable of letting go.
But right now she needed him like she needed her next breath.
Impatient and desperate for Isla, Evan lifted her up and carried her the rest of the way to his bedroom. The other night up against the wall of that cold, impersonal condo hadn’t felt right. It had been hot, and she’d climaxed, but it hadn’t been them. It had just been like the condo itself—there had been no warmth, connection or intimacy. And it had barely taken the edge off.
Now, he wanted to take his time with her. To pleasure her, to hear her cry out his name as she came against his mouth and around his cock.
The hallway passed by in a blur as he hungrily kissed her and carried her to his bedroom. She was holding on to him as if she was afraid he’d change his mind. Not in a million years.
The floor-to-ceiling automatic shades were still up, letting in the outside lights from downtown, illuminating the bed more than enough.
He didn’t bother moving the covers as he stretched her out in front of him. God, he’d missed her. Missed her so damn much. He ached with the knowledge that it was his fault they hadn’t spoken or seen each other for two months. Two long, torturous months. He needed to make it up to her. Show her how badly he still hungered for her.
“You okay?” He gently slipped her heels off. He couldn’t believe his hands actually shook, but hell, this was Isla. He was desperate for her with an intensity that floored him. Always had been. And nothing had changed.
She propped up on her elbows, watching him intently. “I need you.”
Well if that wasn’t what he needed to hear, he didn’t know what was. Looking at her now, he couldn’t believe he’d ever been stupid enough to try to cut her out of his life. But guilt was a funny thing.
“Undress for me?” Her green eyes filled with too many emotions as she watched him, her gaze hungry, needy.
He shook his head because he wasn’t there yet. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be. He had never thought of himself as a vain person, but…
He simply wasn’t ready for her to see his scars. He was having a hard enough time dealing with the change.
Instead of pushing him, she sat up on her knees and took off her dress in a few quick motions. The material swooshed quietly as she drew it over her head and tossed it aside.
He sucked in a breath to see her almost completely bare for him, the thin little wisps of material covering her breasts and pussy. She’d always liked lacy little things—and he loved seeing them on her.
“Lie back,” he demanded as he crawled onto the bed.
She did as he ordered, stretching out, a sensual look on her face. He crawled up her body, feathering kisses over her calves, the shallow little scrapes on her knees where she’d fallen, her inner thighs, teasing his tongue right along the seam where her inner thigh and mound met. But he didn’t make a move to take off the rest of her barely-there coverings. Not yet. He wanted to tease her first.
“Evan.” She wriggled against the bed, her legs restless as she impatiently grabbed onto his head.
Smiling against her body, he continued kissing upward, taking his time to savor her. Though he had her body memorized, he still wanted to taste all of her, to convince himself that this was real.
He’d missed more than just the sex since they’d been apart, but he sure as hell had missed that too. A lot. They’d always fit so damn perfectly together and there’d never been anything she hadn’t wanted to try.
When he reached her breasts, he lost some of his control as he reached behind her back and quickly unstrapped her bra.
She shifted underneath him, making impatient little sounds that made him smile against her neck.
He raked his teeth against her sensitive skin as she wrapped her arms and legs around his body.
His control slipped as he sought out her mouth, kissing, taking, devouring. She was everything to him and he needed all of her.
All his muscles were pulled taut with need as she clung tight to him, only her thong in his way.
That control slipped even more when she started grinding against him, her fingers digging into his back. Growling against her, he laid a new path of kisses back down her body, taking his time with her breasts, not stopping until her nipples were hard little points and wet from his attention.
“I need you in me,” she rasped out.
His cock jerked hard against his zipper. Fuuuuck. He needed to be in her too. But he had to taste her first. By the time he made it back between her legs, his hands were shaking again as he tugged off the last barrier between them.
He sucked in a sharp breath before slowly running his tongue up her folds, pleasure surging through him when she jerked against his face.
He loved how reactive she was, how reactive she’d always been.
But somehow this felt different, almost new. It didn’t matter that he knew her body and she knew his; tonight was somehow new. A rediscovery. A reconnecting.
And if he wanted to win her back—no more “let’s be friends” bullshit—he had to take the right step of winning her over. Of getting her to forgive him.
Giving her a lot of orgasms sounded like a good start. Everything else could wait.
He told himself to work his way up to it, to take his time, but when he started teasing her with his tongue, he realized he couldn’t draw it out too long.
He was just as desperate to hear her cries of pleasure as he was sure she was desperate to climax.
Wet and slick for him, her body told him exactly how turned on she was. And if he’d had any doubt, the little cries of pleasure she made each time he licked her told him what she needed.
She speared her hands into his hair as he slid two fingers inside her. She was so damn tight.
Moving them in and out, he focused on her clit with his tongue, adding enough pressure, flicking and teasing that tight little bud over and over as she writhed against his face.
He knew she was about to start climaxing about three seconds before it happened. Her inner walls tightened around his fingers, clenching and milking him. His cock hardened even more as he felt how slick and tight she was. Well too damn bad for him, because this was all about her.
He was still in love with her. Had never fallen out of love with her. And their time apart because of his own cowardice only drove that point home even more. This was where he belonged. In her bed, in her life, with her.
Her hips arched off the bed as her orgasm punched through her, her fingers tightening against his head as she came. Her hips rolled over and over as he drew her pleasure out, wanting to extend it as long as possible.
She let out a satisfied sigh as she collapsed against the covers, and when he looked up the length of her body she gave him a sweet, sensual smile. “That was incredible.”
He wanted to tell her that she was incredible but the words stuck in his throat. As he looked at her like this with the city lights streaming in, leaving her in a soft glow, her long auburn tresses fanned out everywhere, he wanted to memorize this moment forever.
I love you, he thought, though he couldn’t get the words out. They stuck in his throat as he watched her. All his muscles were tight in anticipation of more but tonight was just about her. At least that was what he told himself. Maybe if he punished himself enough, it would make up for what he’d done. And if he told her now, there was no guarantee she’d even believe him. He needed to show her that he was serious about sticking around. He needed to be a man of action. Not just words.
So when she reached for the front of his pants, he stilled her hands. “You don’t—”
“How about you let me do what I want?” There was a heated gleam in her eyes, impossible to ignore as she pushed at his chest. She didn’t insist that he remove his shirt. Instead she shoved him on his back and worked at his pants.
How the hell had he thought he could walk away from her, from them? She took his hard length into her mouth.
He groaned as she sucked him deep, and as he threaded his fingers through her long hair he didn’t think about much else for a long, long time.
She knew him as well as he knew her, and after they’d both found pleasure again, she curled up next to him on the bed, right where she belonged.
He gathered her close even as he thought it was a weird thing to be in bed with her naked and him half-clothed. “I’m still getting used to my scars,” he murmured, the words out before he could stop himself. He continued stroking his fingers down her back and though she didn’t move, he knew she wasn’t asleep yet.
“Take as long as you need, Evan,” she murmured.
He nearly jolted at her words, as if it was just as simple as that.
He tightened his hold on her, wanting to say more but not wanting to ruin the moment. With her curled up against him so sweetly—trustingly—he simply closed his eyes and held her close.
For this night, at least, he was going to pretend things between them were perfect, that they had never changed at all.
Chapter 19
Evan pushed his chair back as the videoconference screen went dark, glad the meeting was over because all his focus was on Isla, who was down the hall in another conference room with Geno, Sara Rodriguez—who was part of their deal—and their attorneys. He knew Isla was perfectly safe surrounded by so many people, but the most primitive part of his brain wanted him to be in that meeting with her, to watch her, to make sure she was safe.
Which, yes, he knew made him insane. But logic did not play into his feelings. And it wasn’t as if he’d voiced what he wanted to anyone. Still, he wanted the meeting over and he wanted Rodney Wood in jail for good.
“You okay, boss?” Ricardo, his assistant, was working with him today in the conference room. They had a lot to catch up on, and while both of them could easily work remotely, some things were much easier done face-to-face. And Ricardo didn’t mind traveling to Isla’s building for work—not when, according to him, they had the best food trucks nearby.
“Yeah.” He looked down at his laptop and had started to review contract terms for a recent potential acquisition when there was a sharp knock on the door.
Glancing over, he saw Sara Rodriguez through the glass.
Surprised, he stood as she entered and nodded politely.
“Hey, Evan,” she said, waving for him to sit. “I swear you’re always working.”
He gave her a ghost of a smile. “You’re one to talk.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I wanted to talk to you about something, a project that came across my desk this morning. I think we’d be a good fit.”
Since he had a pulse on Miami, he had a feeling he knew which one she was talking about, and he agreed. “Set it up with Ricardo.”
Sara nodded at Ricardo and they both promised to follow up with each other. They might have murmured more polite things, but all of Evan’s attention was on Isla. Or rather the fact that he couldn’t see Isla. After Sara left, both attorneys followed down the hallway not long after.
But not Conti or Isla.
He kept his shit together though. Barely.
Isla was a grown-ass woman, and he didn’t truly think Geno was the one stalking her. Detective Duarte had already told him they were working on a warrant for Rodney Wood and should have it by tomorrow morning. Unfortunately they hadn’t been able to hold him in custody indefinitely after their questioning because that wasn’t how things worked. Once they had a warrant, however, they should be able to get everything they needed to make a more solid case and arrest him. The judge they were getting it from was apparently out of town, but would be back in the morning. Until then, the Miami PD had him under surveillance, which made Evan feel better.
It was also the onl
y thing keeping him from going over there and beating the shit out of Rodney. Because if he was the one who had hurt Isla—and the cops were certain he was, though the evidence was just circumstantial—he was lucky he was breathing. If for some reason he didn’t go to jail? Evan didn’t even want to think about what he’d do. It didn’t matter if he and Isla were together or not, she was his to protect.
He shoved those thoughts aside as Geno strode down the hall, looking at something on his cell phone. The too-handsome man glanced over and nodded politely when he saw Evan. But he didn’t pause, just kept going.
Good. Evan did not have the capacity to be polite today.
A few moments later, Isla stepped into the room. She wore an all-white pantsuit that had very clearly been tailored for her because it hugged her body to perfection, and she looked, well, incredible. She’d styled her hair into soft curls this morning—in his bathroom—and they framed her heart-shaped face.
“Isla, you look like a boss,” Ricardo said with full approval before Evan could say anything. Then he cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing as he shot a glance at Evan, as if apologizing for being so informal.
Ricardo had always adored Isla, and before she’d started working here they’d been friendly. Or hell, friends. Isla had gotten Ricardo birthday presents and other little gifts throughout the year because, according to her, “He takes care of you, so I get to see you more.”
She smiled, her own cheeks flushing pink. “Thanks. I figured this suit made a statement.”
Ricardo nodded. “Definitely.”
“Well, it’s done,” she said, turning to Evan, true joy in her voice. “Absolutely and completely done. We saved a lot of jobs and made a lot of money.”
“Good. Hopefully you won’t have to see that jackass anymore.”
Ricardo let out a sort of strangled sound from the other side of the table and stared at his laptop as Isla’s eyes widened. “Evan.”
He shrugged. “I’m glad you wrapped up the deal. Look, about what you said last night.”