I shook my head. "I do not get that shit at all." I eye her. "Why did you run away?"
"They expect things of me," she answered. "They pay for Yale. They bought my car. They would have bought me a condo near the school if I hadn't insisted on staying on campus, which was a whole big fight by itself. I should already be married to Thomas, according to them. There's no reason for me to even really need a degree in anything, when my breeding and pedigree is all about being a trophy wife for the great and mighty Thomas Haverton. He's planning to run for Senate soon, and it will look best, optics-wise, if he's married. My place, according to them, is at his side. Making him look good. Organizing his parties, having his perfect little children, decorating his perfect house in Georgetown--and I'm the decoration, by the way." A shrug. "I'm here because I just couldn't handle their expectations any longer. I needed a break. I had to...I just had to get away for a while, and hopefully figure out what to do next with my life."
She sighed bitterly. "They have my whole life arranged--it's all been arranged for years. He has the house already picked out. He's just waiting on me to come to my senses and finally agree to marry him. And my parents are putting ever more pressure on me to agree, no matter what I tell them. Next thing I know, they'll be using Yale as leverage."
"That's bullshit."
She nodded. "Yes, it is. But that's my life." She smiled at me, then. "That's why I'm here: I needed an escape from it all."
I thought about everything she'd said. "And I'm the escape, huh?"
She ducked her head, nodding. "Yes. I suppose that would be true." She met my eyes, yet again looking sorrowful and apologetic. "I'm using you, aren't I? God, that's horrible. I'm a horrible person."
I laughed. "Eva, babe. You're overthinking it. I don't mind being used. Not by you, not like this. I'm in this eyes-open, okay? You don't belong here, and I don't belong in Boston, or wherever the fuck Yale is. Like you said, this thing has a built-in expiration date. So quit vilifying yourself, yeah? You have my permission to use me, and then when you decide you're ready to go back to your life, you can wash your hands of me."
"Yale is in New Haven, Connecticut," she murmured, and then she stared at me, emotions I couldn't make sense of crossing her features too quickly to read. "I won't wash my hands of you, Baxter. I will cherish this time I have with you."
That caused something to pang, deep inside me; I didn't dare look at it too closely. "Eva, babe--"
She gave me bright, happy smile. A little too bright, a little too happy, maybe. "Well...we've shopped and eaten. Now what do you want to do?"
"Aside from you, six different ways by midnight?"
She shuddered, goose bumps pebbling her skin. "Why does it have to be aside from that?"
I shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe it doesn't have to be."
Her eyes, locked on mine, were openly and blatantly curious. Heated. Daring me. Challenging. "No, maybe it doesn't." She nibbled on her lower lip. "But...why only six ways? Why stop there?"
I grinned, and slid my hand onto her knee, teasing up under her skirt. "That was just an expression. I'm sure I can think of a lot more than just six."
"A lot more?"
"A lot more."
"Because you mentioned a little...scientific inquiry, earlier." She placed her hand on mine, and urged my touch higher, the daring, darling girl.
"Ah, yes. The experiment. For science, of course."
"For science, of course." She hesitated a moment. "Um, but I have one question."
"What's that honey?"
"The B and B, while nice, doesn't exactly abound in privacy. And I'm assuming you probably live with your brothers..."
"I do," I affirmed.
"So...is there somewhere private we can go?" She licked her lips nervously. "Our little scientific inquiry might be best carried out in private, if you know what I mean."
I leaned close, whispered in her ear. "Meaning, you want somewhere you can scream, huh, Eva?"
She gulped as I traced the gusset of her underwear, under the table. "Yes, precisely."
"Precisely?"
She nodded. "Precisely."
I withdrew my touch and stood up, extended my hand to help her out of the booth, murmuring in her ear as I tossed enough cash on the table to cover our meal plus a generous tip. "I think I know just the place, actually."
"Lead the way, then," Evangeline said, and I didn't miss the fact that she was fairly buzzing with excitement.
Damn. The girl was eager.
The thought that floated through my head, then, scared the actual bejeezus out of me:
How am I supposed to give this chick up, when she decides to leave?
6
Evangeline
* * *
Baxter handed me up into the giant pickup truck, gently closed the door after I was in, and then climbed behind the wheel. He thumbed the volume on the sound system a little louder, and then guided the truck out into traffic. I wasn't sure where he was headed, obviously, but I began to feel a little nervous when it became clear, after thirty-some minutes on a two-lane highway, that he was taking us well away from the city.
I glanced at him. "Um. Where are we going?"
He grinned at me. "Oh, just a little place I know about. Why?" He glanced back at the road as he turned off the tiny highway and onto a dirt track. "Wondering if maybe I'm a chainsaw murderer?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "No, Baxter." But then as the dirt track led deeper into the forest, I began to feel the tiniest smidgen of doubt. "Maybe a little?"
He laughed. "Relax, princess. Trust me a little, okay?"
"I'm trying. But you have to admit--this is starting to resemble the plot of a Lifetime movie where the heroine gets kidnapped by the burly, good-looking villain. I mean, the woods, the dirt trail, the deliberate build-up of my...um...libido...?"
He laughed even harder, slapping the steering wheel with one hand. "I mean not that I've ever seen any of those movies, but I do see your point." He let out another chuckle of amusement. "Listen...I contracted for a handful of fights with this big-time dude from the Bay area. That was a couple months ago, now. Well, I won those fights I was contracted for without even breaking a sweat, and he wanted to book me for a whole bunch more. Sounded good to me, since his money was nice and green and came in handy dandy black duffel bags. Then after a few more fights, he got into some tax trouble with the assholes at the IRS and needed to offload some investments, I guess. One of which was this cabin way up in the woods. So then, a week or two ago my guy calls me up and asks if I'll do a fight for him in exchange for the deed to the cabin. I took the fight, cleaned up like a boss, and took ownership of a sweet little place in the forest some thirty minutes from Ketchikan. I've only been up here twice, once to check it out, and once to clean it up and stock it with some staples."
He gestured ahead of us as we crunched through dirt around another blind corner and then emerged into a clearing about a hundred yards in diameter. There was a patch of grass growing in a circle around which ran the dirt driveway, which butted up against the porch of an adorably quaint little log cabin. It looked old, but well maintained. There was an actual red well pump outside, near the porch, with a wooden bucket turned upside down beside it. A picture window with plate glass was situated beside the door, a red tin roof, a stone fireplace. Honestly, it looked like nothing so much as the setting for a Thomas Kincaid painting. All it needed was a gas lamp burning in the window and a trickle of smoke from the chimney. Behind the cabin, I could see hints of water from a lake or a pond.
"This is amazing, Baxter!"
He shrugged. "Wait till you check out the inside. I literally just got the place, and I'm not much of a decorator, as you can probably imagine, so it's how the guy had it, but he had good taste, I think. Not even my brothers know about this place, actually."
I glanced at him as we climbed the stairs up to the porch. "No? Why not? You seem close to them."
He laughed. "Oh we're close all right--too close. The second they know abou
t this place it'll be 'Hey, Bax, can I use the cabin? Hey, Bax, can I get the cabin for the weekend? Hey, Bax, can Dru and I use the cabin?' I'll never get the place to myself again once they know about it, and I ain't even spent the night in it yet. So I'm keeping it to myself until I'm ready to share it. They'd all do the same thing, so it's not like it's...dishonest or anything."
He dug his keys out of his pocket and flipped through them until he found the right key, unlocked the front door, and led the way into the cabin. Which, as he said, was even more impressive than the exterior. It was tiny, maybe a two hundred or two hundred and fifty square feet at the most, but it was cozy. The walls were snug and the interior seemed nice and cool and dry, not at all drafty. There was a kitchenette in the back right corner, a stove-oven combo, a sink, an antique green refrigerator, a toaster, and a few cabinets. A door beside the kitchenette led into a bathroom, complete with a shower stall, and then the back left corner of the cabin contained a wooden four-poster bed that I suspected was handmade from trees felled right outside the door. The comforter and pillows were plain white, new looking, and neatly made. There was a little oil painting of a serene winter scene on one wall, and some old crossed snowshoes on another, and a mounted, stuffed rabbit head with some kind of antlers on the other.
I laughed and pointed at the rabbit. "Um. I didn't know bunnies had antlers."
Baxter snorted, trying to contain his laughter. "Seriously? You've never heard of a jackalope?"
I frowned at him, unable to tell if he was teasing me or not, and unwilling to admit I wasn't sure. "Jackalope? It's a real animal?"
He nodded, his expression serious now. "Yup. It's a very rare kinda thing. A real big jackrabbit mated with a kinda small antelope this one time, and they had these little baby jackalopes. They're super elusive and hard to hunt, so that mounted head up there is a real rare piece."
I stared hard at him, not wanting to look stupid in front of a man I was so attracted to, but also unsure if he was teasing or not. Because yes, I was a spoiled city girl through and through, and I knew it.
I thought back to my various biology classes. "I'm fairly certain one species cannot impregnate a totally different one."
He shrugged. "What about mules and hinnies? And ligers?"
I frowned. "Yeah, but they're sterile. They can't reproduce. And those are similar and closely related species. A jackrabbit and an antelope are completely dissimilar."
He seemed to be struggling to contain laughter. "Nature is fickle, you know?"
I let out a distinctly unladylike growl. "Baxter Badd, if you're making fun of me, I swear I'll--"
He sidled closer to me, wrapped a big palm around the small of my back and tugging me up against him. "You'll what?"
I gasped at how close he suddenly was, how big his body felt against mine. How small and delicate he made me feel, which in turn made me feel just so...safe. My heart thumped and pitter-pattered as he buried his hands in my hair, tangling and tugging at the roots, pulling my face so close to his I could feel his breath on my lips.
I swallowed hard. "I'll...I'll make you take me back to my room in Ketchikan."
"I think I might just call your bluff, princess. You would do no such thing."
"Yes I would."
He bit down gently on my lower lip, licking it with his tongue, sending my heart rate through the roof. "You wouldn't. You know you're about to get fucked within an inch of your life, and you want it more than you've ever wanted anything." Keeping one hand firmly in my hair, gripping it roughly, just this side of painful, he slid his other hand down from the small of my back to clutch my bottom. "You've only gotten a little taste of what I can make you feel, Evangeline. You know you're not leaving until you've gotten the full Baxter Badd experience."
"You are! You're making fun of me!" I breathed, trying to sound irate and failing.
"Not making fun, babe. Just teasing." He glanced indicatively at the "jackalope" on the wall. "That's something taxidermists came up with way back when, to poke fun at city slickers. Turned into this running joke. Meanin', no, jackalopes ain't real." He grinned and squeezed my bottom. "But I had you goin' for a second, didn't I?"
I tried to glare sternly at him, which was rather difficult to do with his big, strong hand squeezing and kneading my buttock in a way that had me wanting to both groan in pleasure and grind up against him. "You had me doubting my knowledge of basic biology, I'll give you that." I let my hands drift up to slide over his broad shoulders. "You were laughing at me, though, and I don't like being laughed at."
He shook his head at me. "You're cute, honey. I wasn't laughing out of malice. I could just see your gears turning, trying to figure out if I was kidding but refusing to admit you weren't sure." He tapped me on the nose with a finger, and then slid his hand into my hair again, the other still on my backside. "Besides, you gotta laugh at yourself sometimes, you know? You can't always take everything seriously all the time, babe."
His hand slid to the other side of my bottom, kneading and caressing, and I wanted both his hands down there, touching and making me squirm and making me feel things I've never felt before, but I also really liked his hand in my hair, the way he was controlling my head, where I looked, where my mouth went, making sure I didn't try to escape any impending kisses.
"I don't like feeling stupid, either," I murmured.
"Ain't nothin' stupid about you, babe. You grew up in the city. Can't be expected to know things you weren't ever exposed to. I was just messin' with you a little, Eva. Relax. Just a little teasing. No big deal."
"People do not generally tease me, Baxter, so I'm a little..." I shrugged, unsure how to finish the thought.
"Uptight? Touchy?" He laughed as I huffed in indignation. "Teasing again, babe. Seriously, you need to get the stick outta your ass. Chill out, learn to take a joke, and maybe even give it back a little."
"I do not have a stick up my..." I huffed again, knowing if I avoided the word he'd used he'd tease me again, but also knowing I'd sound dumb if I tried to talk like him. "I'm not uptight."
He laughed even harder, burying his face against my throat. "You can't even say 'stick up the ass,' Eva."
I endeavored to retain the last of my dignity. "I just don't talk like that."
"No, but it'd be hot if you did."
"It would turn you on if I admitted that I have a stick up my ass?" I managed to say it without hesitating, and even felt a little burst of pride at myself, which was just embarrassingly stupid.
His hand squeezed my bottom again, his thumb teasing the seam between the globes of my buttocks, tracing it as if contemplating doing something I couldn't fathom, didn't dare conceive. "Yes, that turns me on." He pressed his hips against mine. "Can't you feel it?"
"I thought that was more to do with what you're doing to my bottom."
He nipped the side of my neck. "What...this?" He let go of my hair and grabbed my bottom with both hands now, and I gasped at the feel of both big hands on me, not quite able to fully clutch the entirety of my somewhat generous backside. "Yeah, gettin' a nice double handful of this big, beautiful ass of yours is definitely a fuckin' turn-on."
"Big?" I breathed, trying not to sound upset. "You think my ass is...big?"
He let go with one hand, and tipped my chin up so I was looking at him. "Evangeline. You are not for real right now, are you?"
I frowned up at him. "What? What do you mean?"
He jiggled one globe, and then the other. "Gonna give this to you straight, Eva. Yes, you got a big ass. Not huge, not like you need a whole zip code or anything, but it ain't exactly a dainty little thing either. It's big and juicy. And Eva, babe--that shit is a damn good thing. Maybe some assholes out there would say different, and I'd beat 'em to a drooling, bloody pulp. You got curves, honey. You got flesh to hold on to, curves to grab. You're a woman, a real woman. And this is just my opinion, but you got what a man wants on that goddamn gorgeous frame of yours...and that's curve. Okay? So don't take it as an insult--tak
e what I said the way I meant it: as a compliment."
"It's hard to, though. I work myself ragged in the gym and doing yoga, trying to make my butt smaller, and then you come along and tell me it's big?--and I--it's hard to shrug off a lifetime of conditioning. Just because you say it is a compliment doesn't mean I can just snap my fingers and stop feeling the way I feel."
His hands resumed their double-handful massaging and petting and patting. "In that case I apologize, Eva. I didn't mean to upset you or hurt your feelings. I meant to compliment you, but if me sayin' shit like that is gonna upset you, I can find other ways to tell you you're sexy. Okay?"
I nodded, not quite trusting myself to talk, feeling far more upset and emotional than I should for such a relatively innocent exchange. "Okay."
He frowned down at me. "You're still upset."
I shrugged and nodded. "I guess so. Being hurt doesn't vanish just because you apologized."
He brushed my cheekbone like he did so often. "Hey, I didn't mean to hurt you, Eva, seriously."
I shrugged, trying to laugh and not quite managing it. "I know, and it's...it's complicated, and it's not entirely because of you. I don't want to talk about that right now, though." I gazed up at him, blinking through the emotions. "Can you just...can you kiss me?" I swallowed hard past the lump. "I need to be distracted."
His return stare was fierce and penetrating and hot. "I think I can manage that."
He brought both hands up to frame my face, and his palms were rough and sandpapery and enormous, and his thumbs brushed the ridges of my cheekbones in a soothing, comforting, yet arousing gesture of affection that made my heart thump and my stomach twist with flutters. His fingertips pressed into my hair at the back of my head, gently but firmly tugging my face closer to his.
And I went, so willingly I went, closing the space between his mouth and mine, desperate to feel, desperate to taste, frantic to devour every last scrap of this once-and-only-once experience. I pressed myself against his huge hard body, his hip bones bumping against mine, the thick bulge of his erection pressing into my lower belly and against the upper swell of my core. His biceps obscured my view to either side, and his shoulders rippled and swelled like mountain ranges. He breathed in slowly, a frown of concentration furrowing his forehead, and then he tilted his head to one side and slanted his lips across mine.
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