But by eleven a.m., even my ability to make small talk was waning, and Beverly clearly had other work to do and was getting antsy, so I told them I was content just waiting for Evangeline to wake up.
By noon, I was done waiting.
I made sure John and Bev were both elsewhere, and then I went up to her room--which I'd promised myself I wouldn't do, but hey, this is me we're talking about. Her door was unlocked, the silly, trusting girl; John and Beverly's house was an old one, restored to look as close to the original Victorian style as possible, so all the bedroom doors featured manual locks as opposed to the newfangled electronic keycard kind, which I figured Eva was used to and, being sleepy, just forgot to lock it behind her. So, after peeking in to make sure she was still in bed and that she wasn't, like, naked on top of the covers or anything, I left the B and B, zipped up to the local coffee shop for a couple cups of coffee and a nice toasted bagel with local lox and cream cheese.
When I returned, Eva was still sleeping. Still clothed, too, dammit. I let myself into her room and crouched on the floor beside her bed. She was fast asleep, and goddamned beautiful...just fuckin' lovely as hell. Made the pit of my stomach flip-flop, just looking her. She'd left her hair loose and it was all in her face in fine glossy black strands, and her face was at peace, her lips slightly parted. Her hand was curled into a loose fist under her chin, and she had the blankets tugged up to her shoulders, lying on her side facing the room.
I took off the top of one of the paper cups of coffee and wafted it under her nose; she made a soft grumbling sound, and then wrinkled her nose, sighed, and stirred. I unwrapped the bagel and held it near her nose, and the freshly toasted scent had her stirring and moaning. The moan, though? That shit went straight to my dick, and I went hard as a rock in an instant, hearing her moan like that.
She stirred again, and I switched the bagel for the coffee. Another even more temptingly erotic moan, and I put the bagel up near her nose again.
Her eyelids flickered and fluttered. Emerald eyes peered at me, sleepy, confused. "Mmm...bagel?" I held half of the bagel up to her mouth, and she parted her lips and took a dainty, genteel bite. "Mmm. Mmmm-hmmm. 'S good."
"Local lox on a freshly baked bagel," I said. "Fit for a princess."
She blinked at me, and then took the bagel and rolled to her back, shimmying upward into a partially reclined position. "You show up in all the best dreams, Baxter."
I laughed. "Oh god, not that horseshit again."
She devoured half of the bagel in a few bites, and then licked the cream cheese off her fingers, at which gesture I may or may not have audibly groaned. "What?"
I eyed her. "What, what?"
"I'm confused."
"Me too," I said.
She rolled her eyes at me, spied the lidless cup of coffee on the nightstand, and snagged it, sipped carefully. "This coffee is amazing."
I winked at her. "Only the best for you, babe."
I was still holding the rest of the bagel in my hand, and she was eyeing it hungrily. "About that other half of the bagel..."
I laughed and handed it to her. "All yours." I stood up and perched on the edge of her bed. "You're so fuckin' cute when you sleep it should be illegal."
She froze with the bagel in her mouth. "You...watched me sleep?" she asked, delicately.
I nodded. "I mean, only long enough to wake you up with coffee and food. It's not like I sat in here staring at you as you snored all morning."
She tugged the blanket a little higher, self-consciously. "I do not snore."
"Do too."
She sipped the coffee and glared at me. "I do not." A hesitation. "Do I?"
I held out as long as I could, and then snorted in laughter. "No, Eva, you don't snore. Not even a cute little ladylike snore."
"While I'm grateful to be woken up with food and coffee, I'm a little creeped out that you're in my room." Eva took a bite, chewed, swallowed, and gestured at me with it. "Actually, a lot creeped out."
"I'm sorry, I just got impatient."
"Impatient?" she said, blowing across the top of the coffee.
"Well, yeah. I've been here since ten, and it's almost twelve thirty. I waited until noon, and then got fed up with waiting. Your door wasn't locked, and I made sure you were decent before I came in. Then I went and got the bagel and coffee."
Eva frowned at me. "Made sure I was decent...how? By looking to see if I was naked or not?"
I grinned and shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah."
"And if I had been less than fully clothed, what would you have done then?"
"Enjoyed the view," I said with a wink. "Kidding. Not really, but mostly. Honestly, I probably would have still come in, and I would have covered you up."
"And gotten a free peek while you were at it, too. Jerk."
I took a swallow of my own coffee. "Not gonna hear me deny that, Eva. You are, without a doubt, the most fine-ass woman I've ever met. If an accidental peek is all I'm ever gonna get, you bet your ass I'll take it." I eyed her across the rim of my coffee cup, letting her see the earnestness in my gaze. "A guy like me, a lady like you...yeah, that's all I'm gettin', and I'm fine with it."
She finished the bagel in silence, brushed crumbs off her hands and the blanket, and sipped coffee, staring at me thoughtfully. "There are quite a few possible retorts to that, and I'm not sure where to start."
"Say what you gotta say, babe."
"How about I say what I have to say while you take me shopping for clothing."
"Sounds good to me." I stood up. "Do I get to watch you try on the outfits?"
She rolled her eyes and snorted derisively. "No, Baxter. You do not get to watch me change. Not now, not ever."
I snapped my fingers. "Damn. Worth a shot." I paused on my way to the door, reached down and snagged her bra out of the plastic bag containing her clothes, a full-coverage white lace number; I tossed it onto her lap. "Might want that." I deliberately let my gaze travel down to her breasts, and the outlines of her, ahhh, high beams, which were prominent and poking at the thin cotton, teasing me. "For my sake, if nothing else."
Eva glanced down at herself, blushed, and tugged the sheet up to cover herself. "God, that's embarrassing."
I shook my head. "Embarrassing? Hell nah. Hot as fuck." I gripped the doorknob to anchor myself on this side of the room. "Tempting as fuck, too. Every time I steal a little peek, I'm more and more tempted to just lean in and take a little nibble. Just to see if they taste as delicious as they look."
I watched her press her thighs together under the covers.
"You can't say things like that to me, Baxter," she murmured.
"Why not?"
"You're supposed to be taking me shopping, not trying to seduce me." She clutched the covers for dear life, holding them in front of her body as if they were a shield.
"Eva, sweetheart...that wasn't an attempt at seduction." My feet carried me back across the room, to her bed, and I leaned over her. Tugged the sheet out of her grip. "That was just me making a point."
She set her coffee aside, and I did the same with mine. "What point?"
I moved slowly, giving her plenty of opportunity to slap me silly. I traced a fingertip across her belly, over the narrow strip of tanned skin left exposed between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of the sweatpants, a deliberate echo of the way I'd touched her last night/this morning. She sucked in a breath, watching my hand with hawkish intensity. I sat on the edge of the bed again, this time pressed up against her legs. I slid both middle fingers along that strip of bared flesh. Teasing, teasing. Keeping her gaze locked on mine. Dragged the hem of her shirt up her torso, baring her navel, and then her diaphragm, halting when I started to see underboob.
She bit her lower lip between her teeth, blowing out the breath she'd sucked in moments ago. "Wha--what are you doing?"
"Not sure," I admitted. "What does it seem like I'm doing?"
"Taking my shirt off."
Still using only middle fingers, I tra
ced around the undersides of her breasts and then grazed the outsides on my way up; it was my turn to catch my breath, now, as her tits were both exposed. My cock, already hard as a steel beam, started throbbing painfully, my balls pulsating, a groan escaping my lips involuntarily at the sight of the most perfect pair of breasts God ever put on a woman.
"Is that what I'm doing?" I asked, nudging the Seahawks shirt a little higher yet.
"Yeah, I am fairly certain that's what you're doing."
I finally took hold of the hem, preparing to lift it off entirely. "Don't hear you telling me to stop," I murmured, "so I'm gonna keep going."
I met her gaze, giving her yet another opportunity to put an end to this; she remained silent. Better yet, she unfroze, just a little bit. Her hands, clutched into her thighs through the covers, released their death grip, and she lifted her hands over her head.
I searched her eyes, her face, looking for hints of...I wasn't sure. Panic? Fear? Excitement? Anticipation? I found the last three, at least. And maybe it was more nerves than fear.
I pulled the thin raglan T-shirt off her head and set it aside, letting myself fully soak up the incredible beauty of a topless Evangeline. "Goddamn, Eva."
"What?" she whispered.
"You." I reached out, and I wasn't at all embarrassed to note that my hands were trembling, just a little bit, a fact which I think she noticed. "You are...baby, you're perfect. Literally, the most perfect woman I've ever seen."
I cupped her left breast in my right hand, letting my thumb brush over her erect nipple; she gasped sharply, and her pupils dilated.
She shook her head. "I'm not."
I tipped my head to one side. "We can agree to disagree on that. I think you are." I transferred my touch to the right side, softly caressing the fullness of the heavy globe. "Why are you letting me do this, Eva?"
"I'm telling myself this is all still a dream." She was breathless, watching my hand touching her as I explored the curves and weight and softness of her breasts. "Because otherwise I'd never have the courage to really do this, to let you--to let anyone--touch me like this. At all. Much less someone I don't know. Because I--I want this. It feels wrong, but it also feels right, and I want it, and no one in my life would approve of any of this which is why I'm doing it, partially."
"Tell yourself whatever you want, sweetheart, as long as you know I'm real, and that I'm in literal awe of you, and that the second you stop wanting any of this, all you gotta do is say so. Until you tell me to go fuck myself, I'm gonna keep pushing your boundaries, and I'll be considering myself the luckiest bastard on the planet in the meantime."
"I would never tell you...that."
"What if I tried something that was a hard limit?"
"Hard limit?" She crinkled her nose in adorable confusion.
How could anyone be hot as fuck, sexy as hell, beautiful and elegant and classy, and yet cute and adorable all at the same time? Didn't seem possible, yet Evangeline kept proving it was, in her case.
"Like, not just a 'no, I don't like that, Bax' kind of way, but in a 'hell no, quit that before I break your nose' kind of way."
"Oh." Her eyelids fluttered closed as I grasped her by the waist and pulled her down into a laying position, leaned over her, and kept caressing her breasts, with both hands now, tweaking her nipples now and again, hefting their glorious weight, cupping their softness. "I, um. Well, for one, I wouldn't know how to break your nose even if I wanted to, and I couldn't even begin to imagine what you could possibly do to incite such a--oh, ohhhhh!--such a violent reaction from me."
The oh--ohhh was a reaction to pinching her nipples between fingers and thumbs and twisting sharply, testing her reaction to a little bit of a sting.
I took her hand in mine, tilted it back so her palm was face out in palm-strike position. "Watch." I brought the heel of her palm up to my septum in a gentle approximation of a strike. "Like that, as hard as you can, hitting kinda upward and inward at the same time. Like you're trying to push my nose backward into my skull." I redirected her palm into a side-on strike. "Or like this, trying to smash it right off my ugly face. Use your hand like this, though, open, like a slap. If you've never been taught to throw a punch, you're more likely to hurt yourself trying to hit me with a closed fist. Open-hand, like this, you can't really hurt yourself, as long as you keep your wrist braced back all the way."
"Won't it kill you? Like, drive the bone into your brain?"
I couldn't help an outright laugh. "Babe, that's Hollywood horseshit. It's so hard to do it's almost impossible. Takes a shitload of skill and practice to perfect. Most you'll accomplish is breaking my nose. Most guys, that'll stop 'em in their tracks. Gettin' your nose broke ain't no picnic."
"Would it stop you?"
I kept hold of her hand, brought it to my lips. Kissed her palm, and then the underside of her wrist. Up along her forearm, kissing my way toward her body. "Nah. I can shake that shit off easy enough. Nah babe, you wanna stop me, you gotta nut-shot me with all you've got. Otherwise, I'm pretty much unstoppable. That's why they call me Basher in the ring, 'cause I can just bash my way through any amount of pain and get the win."
"Oh," she breathed.
Her eyes were wide, and her breathing was catching now and again, alternating between sucking in deep, shaking breaths--which did wonderful things to those big, natural, jiggly tits of hers--and not breathing at all. And then she would suck in a breath, suddenly and sharply, and she would jiggle and bounce all over again, and god, my dick was going to explode like a motherfuckin' pipe bomb in a second.
I kept kissing along her arm, my lips now pressing along the inside of her bicep, laying it down on the pillow, over her head. When I reached the transition point from arm to armpit, I took her other hand in mine and repeated the line of kisses from palm to armpit. And this time, keeping my eyes on hers for any hint of hesitation, I touched my lips to the outside of her breast. She sucked in a sharp breath at the contact, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Her eyes were on me, on my mouth, watching me. I met her gaze, sliding my lips along her silky flesh, closer and closer to her nipple.
"The point I was making," I murmured, "was that I take one look at these points"--and here I nibbled at the sweet, delicate, firmness of one erect nipple, and then the other--"and I'm just...fuckin' helpless. I gotta taste you. Taste this, and this, and this." At each repetition of this, I kissed her somewhere else on her breast, the insides, the underside, the nipples. "I don't know how else to put it, Eva. I'm normally pretty good at resisting temptation and keeping my shit in check, but you just...you fuckin' do somethin' to me, babe."
"What? What do I do to you?"
"Drive me crazy, that's what."
She gasped as I suckled her nipple, letting my teeth graze and nip. "But I'm not--I'm not doing anything."
"Don't have to. That's the point. It's just...you."
I forced myself away, forced my hands and mouth away from the delicious perfection of her breasts, which was a monumental feat of self-control on my part.
I slid my hand under her neck and lifted her up.
"Bax? What are you--"
I answered her before she could finish the question: I kissed the ever-loving fuck out of her. Which, in terms of helping the achy-breaky, dick's-about-to-explode hard-on I was rocking, was a stupid move, since I had no intention of letting it go there between us just yet. Which meant suffering through it until it went away or I had a few minutes to rub one out...or two, or ten.
God, what a kiss. This time, I didn't hold back. I just fuckin' gave it to her, both barrels, full blast. Tongue searching the hot cavity of her mouth, lips scouring hers, teeth nipping at her lips, fingers buried in her thick black locks. I couldn't help myself. Once I got that kiss going, I was just lost. Gone. Buh-bye. Brain short-circuited, body going haywire. I leaned over her, pressed against her, moaning into her mouth as I felt the squish of her bare tits against my chest. She lifted up into the kiss, reaching around to cup the back of my h
ead and slide against me eagerly, and her tongue slid against mine, and her lips sought mine with wild fervor. I knelt on the bed, and she shifted, accepting my weight above her, and she kicked the blankets and sheet away. Her bare toes slid along my calf, and her palms slid down to my shoulders, clinging to me, keeping me locked into the kiss, as if I'd ever give up a kiss like this.
More, more.
Fuck, this was dangerous. I was riding the razor-edge of my control, pushing the envelope. I knew I couldn't take her all the way yet, but I needed...fuck, just...more. I knew it was going to end, I knew she would come to her senses and ghost on me, and soon. Go back to her life, to her dad, to Thomas, to Yale, to her fancy life of luxury in which foul-mouthed, hard-fisted, blue-collar bruisers like me had no place. But shit, I wanted her. I wanted to hear her talk more, hear more about her, get her to open up, hear her scream, feel her lose control, watch her discover the wild thing living inside her.
For now, all I could do was kiss her.
I lifted up, bracing my weight on one hand, and let my other hand palm her tit, thumbing the nipple until she gasped into my mouth, and then I traced the bell of her waist and hip, teased the waistband of the sweatpants. Her hands sought the hem of my shirt and eagerly dug under it, palming the muscles of my back, my shoulders, and then my waist.
She was touching me greedily.
Kissing me just as greedily.
She shifted against me, tilted her hips, and I felt myself yanking at the sweatpants and hauling them down so I could palm her ass, kneading it, clawing the firm heft of it, pulling at her, tugging her closer. She moaned, murmured something unintelligible. Pushed at my shirt, trying to get it off.
Flexed her hips again.
God, she wanted it.
She wanted an orgasm. Wanted me to touch her. She may not have known or understood outright, in so many words, but that was what she was begging for, right then.
Kissing me, giving me access to get those pants down, even shimmying her hips and thighs so they were lower. Pressing against me. Devouring my tongue and exploring my back and shoulders with her hands, daring to reach down to the waistband of my shorts.
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