by Regina Cole
“Because this isn’t me!” Everly’s knuckles were white as she gripped the edge of the counter. She clenched her eyes shut and leaned forward, searching for an anchor point in the confusing sea of emotion around her. “I’m not the kind of girl that goes out and just sleeps with anybody. I don’t know what he thinks about me, and I don’t know what I think about me.”
“Okay, stop right there.” Charlie launched herself out of the desk chair and grabbed Everly’s hands, forcing her upright. With an icy blue stare, Charlie skewered Everly. “What did you do wrong? List out every single mistake that you made with him.”
Stunned, Everly sputtered. “Um, er, I guess…”
“Nothing. You did nothing wrong. You are young, single, and hot, and you found a guy you like and you slept with him. You used a condom, right?”
Everly nodded numbly.
“He wanted it, right? He made sure you wanted it too, right?”
Nodding again, Everly swayed a little.
“Everly, cut yourself some slack. From everything you’ve told me, you’re into this guy, and he’s into you. What’s stopping you from seeing him again?”
Biting her lip, Everly glanced away. As much as she hated to admit it, Charlie was right. She’d climbed all up into her own head about this, and what should have been a simple case of mutual attraction had turned into a big, ugly, snarled mass of complicated. So what if she’d slept with him on the first date?
“Nothing’s stopping me,” Everly whispered.
“So here,” Charlie said, passing the phone over to her. “Give him a call. Tell him you’re feeling better and you’d love to grab some dinner.”
Fingers curling around the cell phone, Everly smiled at her assistant. “Charlie, thank you.”
“Honey, you’re awesome. You’ve got to stop selling yourself short.” Charlie pulled her in for a hug, and Everly squeezed back, smiling as Charlie’s hand patted her back. “I’m just jealous you grabbed a hottie fireman and I’m still sitting here single and ready to mingle.”
“You’ll find someone soon.”
Charlie grabbed her windbreaker from the back of the office chair. “Maybe your Mr. Hottie Pants will have a single friend. Drop a word for your girl, will ya?” She winked, and disappeared through the back door.
Everly unlocked her cell phone’s screen and scrolled through her contacts for Drake’s number. She had to do this before she chickened out again.
Just a moment later, the call connected.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Drake.” She sat on the edge of the counter, nervously drawing invisible circles on the speckled black countertop with her fingertip. “Listen, I’m sorry about before. I was just—a little stressed. But if your offer is still good, I would love to grab dinner with you.”
The warmth in his deep voice poured over her like hot fudge. “That sounds like fun. Want me to pick you up?”
“I’d hate for you to go out of your way,” Everly said as she looked toward the front windows. A set of headlights had just turned in to the lot.
“Not out of my way at all, if you don’t mind walking out the front door.”
When she saw the red pickup, she smiled. “Whoops. Guess you knew I wasn’t home. Why were you in this neck of the woods?”
“Wishful thinking that you’d change your mind. Glad I took the chance.”
“Give me two seconds to lock up and I’ll meet you out front.”
As Everly killed the call, she took a deep, cleansing breath. This was good. No, her anxieties weren’t totally gone, but Charlie had been dead right, and Everly fully intended to keep an open mind about Drake. She was single, he was single, and there was nothing wrong with getting to know one another. And if the mood was right, sex was an option. But she didn’t have to do it, if she felt uncomfortable, and there was no harm in saying no. She’d just have to be up front with him. If Drake was anything like she thought, then he would appreciate her honesty and everything would be fine.
Nerves twanged just a little as she pulled open the passenger door of his truck and saw him sitting there, dark hair tousled, mischievous light in his eyes pricking her skin.
She wasn’t out of her league here, was she?
Drake was glad Everly’d had the change of heart, but things were a little different through dinner. Keeping her previously claimed headache in mind—even though he was fairly certain it was a lie—Drake suggested a quiet little bistro he’d eaten at the first night he’d come to Dallas.
It was a cute little joint, serving soups and pastas mainly, but even though they sat at a corner table, their easy conversation from the night before hadn’t quite returned.
Drake told her about his college days, his best friend Hunter, his hobbies, his likes, his dislikes, and Everly smiled and nodded a lot. She didn’t really open up to him as much as she had the night before. Even when he asked questions, she responded with simple answers and no details.
Oh, well. The night was still relatively young.
He drove her back to the shelter once dinner was finished, singing along with the radio as they drove. Everly laughed at his Bruno Mars impression, but refused to join in, even when he asked. Maybe she wasn’t a singer. She did, however, lace her fingers through his when he left his hand palm-up on the truck bench between them.
That little touch gave him hope that the night might not be over.
Back at the shelter, beneath the tree he’d first seen her in, Drake cut the engine after rolling the windows down.
“It’s a beautiful night,” he said, looking up at the sky. There were a few stars visible, even with the downtown city lights in the distance.
“It is,” she agreed. “Summer isn’t far away.”
“Nope.” He looked over at her. She was staring up at the tree. Remembering the first time she’d seen him? Maybe. He hoped she was remembering that first kiss. The promise of that kiss had taken him through the whole week. He’d wanted to see her again desperately. But he hadn’t dared hope their first night together would end the way it had.
With a slow, measured movement, Drake wrapped his arm around her shoulder. A brief moment of hesitation, then Everly melted against him. Drake closed his eyes and leaned against the silky softness of her hair. She’d worn it down tonight, the soft brown waves falling attractively beside her face. It smiled like lilacs and lavender. Everly.
He moved a finger along the silky softness of her jawline. Turning her chin toward him, he looked down into her eyes. The dim lighting of the parking lot lights didn’t reveal much of what was written in her eyes, just enough to show him that she was nervous.
That was okay. He could go slow.
His thumb dragged over her lower lip, reveling in the softness of her pink skin. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her breath blew over the skin of his hand. Slowly, so slowly, he bent his head toward her. He gave her every opportunity to pull away, to say no, to give him an indication that she didn’t want his kiss.
She did none of that, just waited. So he kissed her.
Gently, so softly, he pressed his lips to hers. Her lips were closed at first, but he didn’t press for more, just feathering soft touches across her closed mouth. His hand on her cheek, his arm around her shoulders, he stayed close to her.
For now, this was enough. He wanted more, would never not want more, but he could be patient.
And when her lips parted, and her tongue gently passed his, he deepened the kiss. Tasting her was as delicious as it had been the night before, and with his eyes closed he gave his passion reign.
With lips, and tongue, and hands, he showed her just how much he wanted her. How even though it had only been hours since he held her, he was dying to do so again.
She arched against him, returning his passion kiss for kiss, touch for touch. They’d barely gotten started, and already he was hard as a tire iron.
Her breasts were soft against his palms, nipples pebbled and hard, begging for his touch, for his kiss. Pulling the tail of her po
lo free, he rubbed his hands up her back to the clasp of her bra. He’d just started the work of unhooking it when she tore her mouth away and sat up, scooching back toward the door.
“No,” she gasped, staring at him with wide eyes. “No, I can’t.”
“Sorry,” Drake said, his own breathing ragged. “I shouldn’t have done that here in the car. Let’s go back to my place.” He reached for the keys to crank the engine.
“No, I can’t.”
“You’re right, sorry, I forgot about your dogs. We’ll go to your place.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Everly said, her cheeks darkening with some emotion he couldn’t name. She twisted her fingers in her lap. “I can’t do this again tonight.”
“Do what? Me?”
“Yes. No. I don’t—that’s not what I meant. I just…” she trailed off, looking out the open truck window. Drake wondered why his insides felt like the aftermath of a barnburner. “It’s moving a little fast, for me. Sorry.”
Even though frustrated lust was surging through every vein in his body, Drake just closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. He wanted her. But last night had showed him that he wanted more than just one night with her. For some reason, she wasn’t ready for more, and that had to be cool with him.
Even though he was about to explode on the spot.
“I’m sorry, Everly.”
Evidently his apology wasn’t what she was expecting, because the look she gave him was one of stunned surprise. “What?”
“I said I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything you aren’t ready for.” He leaned over and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss on her cheek. “Have a good night, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She looked at him for a long minute, like he’d just grown two heads or some shit. Drake just sat calmly, smiling, hoping his flagging erection was calm enough to be less obvious now.
“Are you sure? You’re not mad?”
“Mad? No. Of course not. I wanted you, I still do, but if you want to wait, that’s fine and I respect that.”
He meant every word.
“Thank you,” she said, looking pleased, and confused, and a little frustrated. He understood most of those emotions, because he was feeling them himself.
As she opened the truck door and climbed out, Drake cranked the engine. Everly looked back at him as he waved goodbye to her.
“Get in your car,” he said quietly as she crossed the parking lot. “Crank the engine, and then I can leave.”
He followed her Jeep from the lot, taking deep, cleansing breaths as he did so.
He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong. But sometime between last night and this morning, things had gone weird between them. It’s not that he needed to have sex with her right away. He wanted to, of course, but he wasn’t the kind of dickhead that would refuse to hang out with a girl he liked if she wouldn’t put out.
He was more interested in the reason why she was denying herself sex that she very clearly wanted.
As Drake maneuvered back toward his side of town, he mulled the problem over and over in his mind. But no matter which way he looked at it, there wasn’t an easy solution.
He’d have to pull in some reinforcements for this. Hunter had been weirdly MIA over the last couple of days. They usually saw one another at the gym, even on days off. But he hadn’t even answered his phone. But Hunter might have some insight into this, so he’d have to track that asshole down.
One way or another, he would solve the mystery that was Everly Pitts. And they would sleep together again.
Hopefully, sooner rather than later.
11.
Back at home, Everly was ready to jump out of her skin.
Even the dogs were avoiding her. She’d let them out, fed them dinner, and now they were in the living room curled up on the couch because she was pacing up and down the hall as if frustrated lust’s cure was a marathon walking session.
No. She’d done the right thing. The skin of her fingers burned as she twisted them together, trying like hell to reason with herself. Footsteps echoed along the hall. Saying no was exactly the right thing, because she needed time, didn’t she?
Her stomach flipped over at the memory of his large, hot hands caressing her breasts. Slumping against the wall, she covered her face with her palms and groaned.
Damn it. Time wasn’t the issue. She’d gotten scared. That was all it was. Her feelings, her passion were too big, and she hadn’t known how to handle it so she’d just run away like the chicken-shit she really was inside. Her lower belly was still throbbing with the memory of Drake’s sweet invasion from the night before, and when faced with a repeat performance, what had she done?
Said no. And left him. And now she was all turned on with no one to do.
“Goddamn it,” she said, shoving off the wall and stalking to the bathroom. When the door clicked shut behind her, she turned on the tap and yanked off her clothes.
A cold shower might be cliché, but it was her only option here.
Drake’s apartment felt much colder and emptier than he ever remembered it being. He tossed his keys on the table and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin.
Damn it. He still couldn’t forget the way her eager hands had rubbed all over his body, how her mouth had ravaged his just before she’d fallen all over herself to get away from him.
Shit. He collapsed in a dining room chair, just staring out the darkness of his kitchen window. On the drive back home, all he could think about was her. No matter how many times he tried to distract himself, with the radio, calling his best friend and hitting his voicemail, solving complex math problems, none of it could exorcise the memory of her hot, sweet hands delving below his waistband to graze the edge of his hot, hard, hungry cock.
As if in response, his dick ached and twitched in his pants. Wincing, he rubbed the shaft gingerly.
Aw, damn. It wasn’t her hands, or her mouth on him, but this erection wasn’t going to go quietly.
Standing, he shoved the chair beneath the table and headed to the shower. If he was going to do this, he might as well enjoy it. Maybe next time they were together, they could shower together. He imagined how she’d look, her tanned, naked skin dotted with soap suds, wet, dark ropes of her hair decorating her bare shoulders.
It was an aching relief to remove his boxers, and when his hand closed around his hard length, he closed his eyes and wished with all his might it was her hand touching him.
She shrieked when the cold water hit her body, teeth chattering as she stood rigid under the shower’s unrelenting stream. Her nipples were hard as rocks, goose bumps all over her body.
I don’t need to think about him. I made this decision. Me. It was right for me at the time.
But no matter how long she recited her litany, it didn’t make the ache between her thighs go away.
She stared up at the painted white ceiling, relaxing a little now that her body had gotten used to the cold. Though her skin was numbed, it wasn’t dead. And Drake had heated her blood to the point that a little cold water wasn’t going to solve the problem she had now.
Reluctantly, she edged the shower’s nozzle to the red end of the spectrum. With warmer water coursing along the planes of her naked body, she looked down. Her nipples were still dark and hard. She remembered how they’d looked pinched gently between his fingers. Lifting her hands, she covered her breasts, squeezing slightly.
It felt good. Not as good as Drake’s hands, but it was all she had.
Fingers rubbing down her belly, she bit her bottom lip. He had found her clit with no problem last night, his cock and his hand moving at once to bring her to orgasm. She’d never had one given to her by another person before. It had been incredible. Could it happen again? Next time, would he touch her, fuck her, make her come? Her fingers delved between her nether lips, and she was so, so wet.
Standing in the steamy glass walls of his shower, Drake stroked his length. With every movement, he pictured
her, straddling him, looking down at him, her beautiful bare nipples perked and ready for his hands, his mouth, for him. A bead of slick precum moistened his tip, and he spread it along the shaft to heighten the pleasure.
She’d been so tight, so wet, so ready for his entry, and he’d fucked her as if it was the only thing in life he needed. And it was. Now, if she was there, in the shower with him…
“Oh God,” he moaned. Having her touch him, grip him, suck him, caress his sac, his shaft, the swollen head of him…
It was too much. Much too much. Faster, he stroked himself, one hand braced on the cold tiles of the shower wall. Three, four, five jets hit the glass door, and he poured himself out in daydreams of Everly.
“Everly.” His voice was rough as it echoed in the bathroom around him. The sound of the water swirling down the drain was impossible to hear over the roaring of his own heartbeat in his ears.
The slick feeling of her body’s moisture eased the movements of her hand between her thighs, and Everly’s movements became faster, more desperate.
Drake had taken her over, body and mind. She was possessed by the memory of him, the thought of his body pressing her down, his hard cock entering her, her body stretching and burning and needing him. It was too much. It was much too much. She was so empty, so wanting, aching for him.
It wasn’t enough, but she entered herself with her fingers, rubbing her clit furiously with her other hand. It was a pale imitation of the man she wanted, but the memory of him was all she had.
It was enough.
She came on a choking cry, her inner walls spasming around her fingers as she desperately wished for strong arms to hold her, to catch her, to ease her through the feelings.
Spent, and weak, she leaned against the wall and stared up at the curling plumes of steam that bounced off the ceiling.
“I’m not saying no again.”
She might have whispered the words, but they were no less serious for her lack of volume. Her decision was made. The next time Drake offered himself to her, she was going to take him without any hesitation.