When he couldn’t take it anymore, he moved, rolling his hips, keeping the pace as slow as he could manage, making sure to grind against her clit every time he made contact. He wanted to feel her come again. Only that thought kept him from letting loose, especially when she started writhing under him, her sighs turning into moans and pleas of, “Oh, God, Evan, please. Oh please. Oh please.”
He didn’t know if she realized what she was saying, but she’d done the same thing when she came a few minutes ago. Letting himself pick up the pace, he drove into her, remembering her asking him to fuck her harder and faster the last time. If she liked it hard, he was happy to oblige.
“Is this what you want, Layla? You like my cock pounding you like this?” He’d held back from talking dirty to her last time, unsure how she’d take it. But it slipped out before he could reel it back in.
She moaned. “Yes. Oh, God, yes.”
That spurred him on, taking her harder, licking his thumb and sliding it between them to rub over her clit. He wouldn’t last much longer, and he needed her to get there with him this time. She was close. Her legs tensed around him, and her little cries became a series of wordless ohs.
“Come on, Layla. Come on my cock. Let me feel you come all over my cock.”
Shouting his name, she came, her hands clenching the sheets again, the muscles in her stomach jumping, and her pussy squeezing him like a vice, triggering his own climax. With one last thrust, he spilled himself into the condom, his hands gripping her hips.
When his body relaxed, he rested his head between her breasts. After a moment, her fingers ran through his hair. That sweet and intimate gesture left Evan with a feeling of satisfaction that extended beyond the sexual. Gentle caresses and gestures of affection weren’t part of his usual encounters, but with Layla, he enjoyed that part as much as the actual sex.
Lifting his head, he brushed a kiss over her lips and withdrew to discard the condom before coming back to his bed and his naked girlfriend. He hadn’t used that word for anyone in a long time, and he found that he liked it. There was something far more meaningful and satisfying about sex with someone you cared about and who cared about you than quick hook-ups at parties.
He scooted into bed behind her, luxuriating in the feel of her soft skin against his, running his hands over her and tangling his legs with hers. He could get used to this in a hurry.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Spring break passed in a bubble. They stayed in Evan’s apartment for the most part, only going out a few times to eat dinner somewhere, run a few errands, or go to the gym so Evan could keep up with his workout schedule. Layla had convinced him to go after he’d seemed antsy from skipping a couple of workouts. He couldn’t sit still, and obviously needed it as an outlet as much as to stay in shape.
She couldn’t remember ever feeling as content or sated as she did that week. The first night had been a little awkward, at least for her, trying to figure out her usual routines in a new space. But Evan so clearly wanted her there, making sure she had whatever she needed, the little caresses he gave her reassuring her that this was real. And he couldn’t seem to get enough of her. They spent most of their time in his bed or lounging on the couch, mostly naked, with him ending up inside her sooner rather than later. Sometimes it was so sweet and tender that she wanted to call it making love, but couldn’t quite bring herself to apply that term, not even in her own head.
But even that couldn’t keep his natural desire to move at bay, so she suggested he keep up with his usual workout schedule. He talked her into coming along to the gym.
“It’ll be fun. I’ll show you some exercises to strengthen your ankle and help it get all the way better.”
That had convinced her. While her ankle was much improved, it still twinged when she had to hurry across campus, and some days it was swollen by the end of the day. Not as often, but enough to be annoying. If Evan could help things along, then it was worth going to the gym.
They’d stopped by her apartment so she could grab some workout clothes.
“See,” he’d said while she rummaged through her drawers for her sports bra, shorts, and a tank top. “I told you we could come back if you needed something.”
“Yes, you were right. Would you like an award?”
He narrowed his eyes at her as she stuffed the workout clothes in a bag. “Yes. I would.”
She laughed. “What do you want?”
“A kiss.”
Taking a step closer to him, she pretended to think it over. “Hmm. I was thinking more like a certificate. We could find a template online and print it out on pretty paper and everything.” She put her hands in the air like she was holding a paper. “’This certificate is to recognize that on March thirteenth in the year two thousand seventeen, Evan’—wait, what’s your middle name?”
His eyes crinkled like they did when he smiled, but he bit his lips to keep it in. “Ward.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Okay. ‘On March thirteenth, twenty-seventeen, Evan Ward Coopman was right about something.’ Sound good?”
He scrunched up his face, one eye almost closing, and shook his head. “No. I don’t like that. I’ll take my kiss instead.”
Heaving a big, fake sigh, she moved to stand in front of him, but she couldn’t hold back her smile. “Fine. If you insist.”
His hands fell to her hips, and he pulled her tight against him, his mouth covering hers in a demanding kiss, even though they’d just made love not long before leaving his apartment. No. Had sex. We had sex this morning. We didn’t make love.
When he pulled back, she could feel him hard against her belly. She smirked up at him. “Too bad we’re going to the gym, huh? No time to take care of this.” She reached between them and gave him a squeeze before spinning away, grabbing her bag, and darting out the door.
Evan let out a noise that sounded halfway between a laugh and a groan, but caught up to her in seconds. Trapping her against the back of her couch, he kissed her again, grinding his hips into her, his cock hard and heavy through the thin fabric of his workout shorts.
This time when he broke the kiss, she was breathing as hard as he was and just as aroused. He kissed her jawline and brought his mouth to her ear, his breath raising goosebumps down her neck and sending a shiver down her spine.
“Too bad I don’t have a condom. But now you’re suffering as much as I am.” He let out a low chuckle and released her.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “At least my problem’s not obvious to the whole world, though.”
His eyes drifted meaningfully to her chest. Looking down, she saw her nipples standing straight out. With a scowl, she crossed her arms over them. “Fine. But I can cover mine up. You’ll have to walk around like that till it goes away.” She put an extra flounce in her step as she headed for the door. “Come on, Evan,” she called in a singsong voice. “We’ve gotta go work out.”
He smacked her ass on his way out the door, his hand leaving a warm sting behind. “I’ll pay you back later, Layla.”
“Pay me back? You’re the one who started it with your snide comments about being right.” She locked the door and followed him down the stairs.
“I wasn’t being snide,” he called over his shoulder. “I was merely commenting that I made a good point the other day. I haven’t held you hostage and not let you get things you need from your place, right? Right. That’s all I was trying to say.” At the car, he pulled her door open and pointed a finger at her while she climbed in. “You, on the other hand, got snotty and offered to print me a certificate.”
She stuck out her tongue at him. He laughed and closed the door, taking them to the gym. As promised, he showed her some exercises to gently strengthen and rehab the muscles. “If you keep up with them, your ankle will come back stronger than before.”
“Riiight.”
His blue eyes were serious when they met hers. “Exercise is important, Layla.”
She shrugged. “I kn
ow. I go hiking and like to go for walks.” She waved a hand around. “I’m just more of a get-out-and-enjoy-nature, sit-under-a-tree-with-a-book kind of girl than a gym rat.”
One eyebrow arched at her statement. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know. If you lifted weights, you might find hiking easier and more enjoyable.”
She made a noncommittal noise, which he seemed to take as agreement, because he let it go, moving over to the free weights while she finished the exercises he’d shown her then went to walk on a treadmill.
Evan worked out in a T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a pair of mesh athletic shorts. She’d picked the treadmill with the best view of the free weight area, and this was better than trying to read or watch TV. His biceps bulged as he did curls and other exercises that worked his arms. And when he lined up in the rack with the bar across his upper back and started doing squats—holy hell. She almost fell off the treadmill. He had his back to her while he faced the mirror, his brow furrowed from the effort of each rep, his shorts stretching tight across the perfect, round muscles of his ass.
The next time he wanted to come to the gym, he’d get no argument from her. This was a hundred times better than learning how to make her ankle feel better. Could she work out with him all the time? She could convince him he’d made a convert out of her. Though he might see through it if all she did was hang out at the treadmill and drool while he actually worked out. Whatever. Who cares? She’d get to stare at his ass while he did squats.
When he straightened the last time, he caught her eye in the mirror, a smirk on his face at her blatant ogling. And she felt no shame about it at all.
“I’m going to have to go back to work next week.”
Evan stopped chewing for a second, his burrito paused in midair as he studied Layla where she sat on the other side of the table, eating her post-workout—and post-workout shower workout—at a hole in the wall burrito place near his apartment. The way she made the announcement meant something more than just the obvious. But he was still relaxed and pleasantly muddled from a good workout and even better sex, so he couldn’t quite figure out what she was getting at.
Swallowing his bite, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “What?”
She took a sip of her drink. “My ankle’s better, so I can handle standing on it again. I work in the library shelving books. I haven’t been in the last few weeks since I got hurt, but now that I’m better, I’ll start again on Monday. So that means I can start driving myself again. You can go back to your normal schedule.”
“You don’t want me to drive you anymore?” Fuck. He knew things would change after spring break, but with the way the week had been going, he thought it would change for the better. Obviously with classes, he wouldn’t get to see her as much as this week. But he thought they’d made progress. She initiated as much as he did, and they still talked and laughed and read together. In short, the week had been perfect. And now she didn’t want to ride with him to school?
Her hand stretched across the table. “No, Evan. No. That’s not what I’m saying. If you want to pick me up on the days I don’t work in the evening, we can still do that. But when I do work, I’m usually there until late. I figured it would be easier to take my own car. I mean, I know you wait for me a few days a week as it is, but you work out then, right? You can’t work out for five hours. That’s not healthy.”
He sat back in his chair, the napkin still crumpled in his hand. “Okay. If you want to drive yourself, that’s fine.” He paused, considering his next words. “But I like driving you.” It had become their thing, and the idea of giving that up didn’t sit well with him. “And if you’re working, I won’t get to see you much on those days. So if I bring you to school and pick you up after work, I’d see you more.” Leaning forward, he threaded his fingers through hers, lowering his voice. “I’ve gotten used to seeing you every day since you twisted your ankle. And this week—after this week it’s going to be torture going back to sleeping in separate apartments. Don’t make me give up driving you, too.”
Christ, he sounded like a lovesick fool. But he didn’t care. Layla made his days brighter, more fun, more stimulating in every way. Giving that up? That was like going from a tropical climate to the arctic overnight. Horrible. If he had to beg, he would.
Squeezing his fingers, she gave him a wistful smile. “You really want to just sit around on campus for hours waiting for me?”
He shrugged. “I could do homework in the library. Or do whatever and come back to pick you up. We’ll figure it out.” He hoped. Somehow it seemed like if she started driving herself, she’d decide finding time for him would be too much trouble, and he’d lose her. Maybe that was ridiculous, but he didn’t feel like questioning it.
“Really? You’d do that?” Her voice held a note of disbelief, but also hope. Did that mean she wanted him to keep driving her?
“Yes.” Christ, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for her. He didn’t tell her that, though. Instead he closed his mouth and waited, willing her to give in.
“Okay,” she said at last. “I’d like that. But I still think you’ll get tired of it after a week or two.”
She tried to pull her hand back, but before he let go, he pulled it to his mouth and kissed it, flashing her a quick grin. “Not likely. But I’ll let you know if I do, okay?”
“Okay.” Her smile was warmer now, and somehow he felt like he’d won a major battle getting her to agree. It confirmed for him that she liked their routine as much as he did. And it meant he’d still see her every day, even if it was just snatches here and there. If they were riding together, maybe he could convince her to stay over sometimes on weekdays. Or he could stay with her. That could totally work. Carter’d probably like having the apartment to himself all night sometimes too.
Satisfied, he resumed eating, smiling at her again. She might still think he wasn’t that serious about this thing between them, but slowly he’d win her over to his way of thinking. It was just a matter of time.
Layla woke to soft lips pressing against her neck. Evan’s fingers brushed her hair out of the way, then trailed down her side, gripping her hip to pull her back against him. His erection pressed along the crack of her ass, and she pushed back in encouragement.
“Good morning,” he whispered, his hand exploring further, tweaking her nipples before drifting down between her thighs.
“Good morning.” When she said it, it came out on a moan since he’d started making slow, light circles around her clit. Trapped between his cock and his fingers, she was waking up in sensual bliss. This was the best alarm clock ever. Or alarm cock.
His lips curved against her shoulder. “Did you just call me an alarm cock?”
She stifled a giggle. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Mmhmm.”
His hand drifted to her breast again, and she rolled back a little so her mouth could find his. He kissed her, but pulled away before she was ready for him to. Turning her back onto her side, he pressed another kiss to her shoulder. “Stay here, just like this.”
She looked back over her shoulder, but he wasn’t going far. Things rustled on his nightstand followed by the distinct sound of a condom wrapper ripping open, and seconds later he was behind her again, one arm sliding under her neck, the other hand stroking down her hip to her thigh, lifting her leg to give him access.
He slid inside her in one smooth motion, his earlier attentions having left her wet and ready for him. It didn’t take long. Not with him. And this week he’d gotten even better at learning what she liked best, getting her off quickly and easily. Unless he was in the mood to tease. Then he brought her to the edge over and over before letting her fall. And while she hated it when he did that, she also loved it, the climax so intense it stole her breath as well as her sanity.
But this—this was long and slow and easy. She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of him stroking in and out of her, his hand sliding over her skin. She felt … cared for. Known. Loved.
“What’s wrong?” His lips brushed her shoulder again. “Is this not good for you?”
He paused, shifting, then thrust into her again. And oh, God. “No, it’s good. That’s good. Oh, God.”
Without his hand supporting it, she’d let her leg drift closed, which made him seem even larger and changed the angle enough that each thrust had him rubbing over her G-spot. With that going on, she couldn’t remember what had distracted her from this, from him, right now.
His free hand edged between her thighs again, sliding over her clit in time with his movement. He increased his pace, but maintained his long, easy strokes, making her feel every inch. Why hadn’t they done this before? This was amazing. He made her feel amazing.
“You getting close? I can feel your pussy clenching on my cock. Yeah, darlin’. That’s it.” His dirty talk did things to her that she never would’ve thought possible. Normally that kind of thing seemed crude and disgusting. But when he started talking to her like that in the heat of the moment. Sweet baby Jesus. It made her get the rest of the way there. Every. Time.
“Come on, Layla. Come for me. Come for me now.”
As though waiting for his command, she came, his name falling from her lips. He was right behind her, plunging into her hard a few times before reaching his own shuddering climax, his arms clamped around her, clutching her against him like he’d never let go. Even after he stilled, his arms didn’t loosen. But she didn’t mind, because there wasn’t anywhere else she’d rather be right now than in his arms, in his bed. If she could stay here forever, she’d be happy.
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