Her eyes widened, but she took him at his word and made quick work of getting the last few things she wanted. When it looked like she might start dithering again, he flipped the lid of the suitcase closed and zipped it up. “Do you have your phone charger? Any other electronics or books you need? Get them now. I’ll take this out and be right back.”
Chapter Nineteen
Layla watched Evan walk out of her room, her gaze fixed on his ass despite herself. Normally she would object to being bossed around like that. But those kisses. Damn. She wanted to get to more of that sooner than later, too.
Despite Evan’s claims, she hadn’t been stalling. Not exactly. But he made her nervous. She was aware of his presence in her apartment even while he waited not-so-patiently in the living room. With him in the bedroom with her? Forget it. She couldn’t focus on what she should pack with him standing there flexing his arms, the fabric of his short-sleeve T-shirt pulled tight across his biceps, shoulders, and chest, falling looser around his trim waist.
He’d seemed disappointed this morning when she hadn’t brought a suitcase with her to school, but had covered it quickly, assuring her that packing after class was fine. They’d both been happy that her last professor let class out twenty minutes early, but Evan kept asking how long it’d take her to pack like he couldn’t wait even the half an hour it normally took her.
She’d thought about packing since Tuesday, trying to decide what she should bring, how much she should bring, if she’d actually go through with staying with him after all. After last night, part of her was waiting for him to change his mind and decide he’d rather go home. He’d told her that had been his plan, but that his parents hadn’t minded the sudden change.
But those kisses. If that’s what he’d been saving up for the last few days, she wanted to get more of that. And Megan had made a valid point about taking advantage of the hot sex while she had the chance.
“Ready?”
Evan’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked around quickly once more, coiling the charger for her phone in her hand and sticking it in her purse. “Yeah. I’m ready. Let’s go.”
The smile he gave her almost took her breath away. It still stunned her at random intervals that he wanted her. For her. Not as some kind of notch in his belt or curiosity about the “exotic” girl. He hadn’t even brought that up again since that day in the ER, which made her glad for the obvious reason that she didn’t like being called that, but also because it meant he listened when she spoke. The closest he’d come had been when he asked about her name, since Layla wasn’t a name usually associated with any of her ethnic backgrounds.
She’d rolled her eyes as she answered. “My dad is an Eric Clapton fan. That’s always been one of his favorite songs. He used to sing it to me all the time when I was little.”
He’d pulled her close and kissed her. “That’s the best story of someone’s name I’ve ever heard.”
His fingers tangled in hers, as had become his habit, tugging her behind him out of her apartment, pausing to let her lock the door, then down the stairs to his car. He opened her door for her, every inch the gentleman. When they got to his place, he carried her suitcase up the stairs, not even bothering to roll it along like she would.
She followed behind him, smiling at the sight of his jeans pulling tight over his ass with every step up the stairs. He turned at the landing, noticing that she was several steps behind him. A look of concern crossed his face. “Is your ankle still bugging you?”
Smiling, she shook her head. “Nope. It’s fine. Just enjoying the view.”
He looked around at the parking lot for a second before he realized what she meant, and then he gave her a wide grin. “Are you? I’d be happy to provide a more private showing if you’d like.”
When she reached the landing, he tugged her inside, closing and locking the door behind her. He didn’t even give her time to look around, much less get nervous again, before his mouth was on hers, hot and demanding, his chest pressing into hers, his hands on her hips holding her tightly to him.
His fingers pressed into the back of her hips, guiding her to stay close to him as he backed further into the apartment. Her feet tangled with his for the first few steps, and only his body pressing against hers kept her from falling. But she found their rhythm, almost like a dance, as he slid his feet backwards, and she matched her feet to his.
They entered another room—his bedroom? Must be, because before she knew it, he was sitting on the bed in front of her, positioning her between his knees, his fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt to tickle over her bare skin. He pushed the fabric out of the way, his lips grazing her skin, his fingers moving to undo the button and zipper of her jeans.
He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he didn’t want to wait. They hadn’t even been inside his apartment more than a couple of minutes before he was stripping her.
His blue eyes met hers, his lids heavy, his tongue coming out to swipe over his full lips. “Take your shirt off.”
Before she could move, his hands were pushing her shirt up her torso as far as he could, too impatient to wait for her to comply. With a slight smirk, she pulled the offending garment over her head, dropping it on the floor behind her. The flare of his eyes at the sight of her standing before him in her bra and jeans more than made up for his bossiness.
And if she were honest with herself, she kind of liked it when he bossed her around like this. Any other time? No. But here? It was sexy. Seeing him react to her like this turned her on as much as anything.
His long, calloused fingers slipped inside the waistband of her jeans, pushing them down a little as he delved inside, his hands finding the bare skin under her panties, squeezing her ass before moving around more and pushing everything down until her clothes were around her thighs, baring her to him but leaving her trapped. Not that she wanted to get away. Not with his eyes raking over her like that, singeing her wherever they landed—her breasts, her nipples hardening under his gaze, her ribs, her stomach … and lower.
He pulled her closer, his lips making contact with her torso, his mouth hot and wet, his hands gripping her ass, holding her in place as he worked his way up to her breasts. She arched into his mouth, losing herself to the feel of his tongue and lips around her nipples, making them impossibly harder.
God, he knew what he was doing.
That thought brought with it the unwelcome reminder that he’d obviously done this a lot. But she pushed that away, reminding herself that she was taking advantage of his experience by enjoying it as much as she could for as long as she could.
She wanted closer to him. She wanted to straddle him, to feel his skin against hers, but her jeans were still bunched around her thighs, and he was still fully clothed. Wiggling her hips, she reached down to push her pants further down so she could get them off.
Evan stopped to look up at her, and she made a whining noise as his mouth left her body. He gave her a wicked grin. “Need some help?”
“Please.” Normally she’d hate the desperate quality of her voice, but he had her so worked up, so aching for his touch, that she didn’t care.
He shoved her pants down past her knees, and she kicked them off. As she pulled her legs free, one of his hands dove between her thighs, guiding her to kneel over him on the bed and splitting her with his fingers. Two of his fingers pushed inside her, driving her breath out with their force, and she clutched at his shoulders, the fabric of his T-shirt bunching in her hands.
His jaw worked as he watched her, his eyes glittering and focused on her face, drinking in her reactions. Her head fell back and her eyes closed as she sank into her pleasure. Only his hand on her hip and the other between her legs kept her from collapsing as he spread her wetness around, tapping his fingers against her G-spot, his thumb running over her clit.
“Oh, God.” The words fell unbidden from her lips, and Evan’s expression grew more intense, his hand working harder.
“Oh. Ah. Nooo
.” The last word came out on a low moan as he pulled his hand away. She’d been right there.
He gave her a wicked smirk and brought her mouth to his for a hard, fast kiss. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you hanging. But I want to taste you this time.”
He wrapped his arms around her and lay back, pulling her with him, then rolled them over so he was on top. His jeans scraped against her bare thighs as he performed this maneuver, the warm cotton of his shirt rubbing her breasts, reminding her that he still hadn’t undressed.
She plucked at his shirt. “Take this off.”
One handed, he yanked it over his head, his abs flexing and rippling. Yum. She’d never been with a guy with a body like this. The English and drama majors that she normally spent time with didn’t work out like Evan did. One of the perks of being with a football player.
But before she could continue admiring his body, he slid down, leaving a hot trail of kisses across her abdomen until he settled himself between her thighs, his hands pushing her legs apart, making room for his broad shoulders. She watched his progress, the way his dark head dipped to place kisses over her bare skin. Spreading her open, his blue eyes found hers and held them as he lowered his mouth, his hot breath blocking the cool air.
She gasped when his tongue made contact, sending shockwaves of pleasure up her body. Her hands reached out, clutching at the sheets, seeking an anchor as he did it again and again, his tongue stroking her clit each time, spending time there before moving away. Pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
His fingers slid inside her once more, tapping in just the right place as his tongue danced over her clit, his lips wrapping around it and sucking it in. Oh, God. Oh, yes. Her hands spasmed on the sheets, all of her muscles jerking as she came.
God, that was so much better than any self-service orgasm.
She had to push Evan away, each stroke of his tongue on her over-sensitive flesh making her jerk and twitch. When he finally let up at her urging, he stood, a wide smile on his face glistening from her juices.
He wiped them away with one hand, then crawled up her body, nuzzling her neck, his breath hot as he whispered in her ear. “I could watch you come all day. Your little moans and cries of ‘Oh, God! Oh, yes!’ are good for my ego.”
Arching her neck to let him kiss her there more, she murmured, “I’m not sure your ego needs any help.”
When he stopped and pulled away, she opened her eyes to find his face hovering over hers, his smile gone. “With you, it definitely does.”
She drew in a breath, trying to figure out how to respond to that. The vulnerability on his face struck her, as well as the meaning of his words. He was uncertain where he stood with her. Evan Coopman. The definition of self-confidence, especially when it came to women. She’d never seen him insecure.
But before she could say anything, his mouth was back on her skin. Wanting to touch him, to offer him reassurance, she ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulders. Her body, still sated from the orgasm he’d given her, started to respond to his attention again. She pushed her hips up against his, letting out a sound of irritation when she once again encountered denim.
“Why aren’t you naked yet?”
He met her eyes again, his grin back in place. “Just waiting for you to ask.”
Evan didn’t think he could get his pants off fast enough. He’d left them on this long on purpose. Not because he wanted to make her ask to take his clothes off like he said. No, it was so he could try to stay in control longer than last time. He needed to make sure she came before he did. At least once. Twice if he could make it happen.
He’d fulfilled the first goal. But the second time she came, he wanted to feel her clenching on his cock, not his fingers.
Shoving his jeans and boxers off together, he pulled out his wallet to get a condom.
Slim fingers wrapped around his cock, and his knees went weak as she pumped him, his hand holding the condom frozen halfway to his mouth to rip it open. She knelt on the bed, looking up at him, her eyes wide and dark, her lips parted, pink and shining from his kisses.
God, he wanted her.
But he didn’t want to stop her from looking her fill, getting off on the way her eyes dragged over him with appreciation, the fingers of her free hand almost tickling as they traced over the ridges of his muscles. His cock jumped in her hand as she drew her fingers down the crease at his hip until they fondled his balls. Her pink tongue came out to lick her lips, and he let out an involuntary groan.
Her eyes flicked up to his, and a slight smile played over her lips before she leaned forward and ran her tongue over the head of his cock. His groan was louder this time as her mouth engulfed him, and he closed his eyes at the pleasure she created with her lips and tongue.
When she started to bob her head up and down he pulled back, his dick coming out from the suction of her mouth with a pop, shiny with her saliva. Christ. She’d be the death of him. He shook his head. “We’ll have to save that for later. I want inside you right now.”
He tore the condom wrapper open with his teeth as he’d intended to before she started touching him. But before he could roll it on, she plucked it out of the package and did it herself, her hands gripping his cock on the way down.
“Fuck me, that’s hot.”
Not wanting to wait any longer, his desire for her overpowering every other thought in his head, he pushed her back on the bed, his mouth on hers, his hand pulling one of her legs up and back, opening her to him. He forced himself to go slow instead of plunging into her in one hard thrust like he really wanted to. But he knew if he gave into the urge to pound her, he’d finish in less than a minute.
He sank inside her in one slow, smooth slide. When his hips met hers, he held himself there for a moment, taking the time to kiss her, his tongue delving into her mouth, stroking hers, as though that were his only task and he had all the time in the world to spend just kissing. Even though the primitive part of his brain chanted at him to thrust, pound, claim her. Hold her down and fill her again and again.
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 comin
g 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, coming 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 had swelled up by the end of the day. If Evan could help things along, then it was worth going to the gym.
False Assumptions (Players of Marycliff University Book 6) Page 13