“What exactly happened?”
Evan let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t even fucking know. One minute Romero and I were talking and getting beers, and the next thing I knew, two girls had latched onto me and spun me around to a row of girls flashing us. Romero was cracking up and told me to take my pick. I told him to fuck off and pulled myself away from the chicks who had ahold of my arms.” He rubbed his hand over his head again. “I used to hook up at parties a lot. So I guess they all assumed that I was there for that. Romero found me later and apologized, but neither of us knew how much damage had been done by then.”
She nodded, processing all of that, her eyes on her knees again, but not really focused on anything. While he read his poem, she’d figured out that he hadn’t cheated on her. Why else would he get up and say all that in front of a big crowd? The place had been packed, and he’d bared his soul in front of all of them.
“Layla?” She looked up to meet Evan’s eyes, his voice pulling her out of her racing thoughts. The last of the sunset had faded while they were outside, and his face was partly shadowed, but she could make out the hope that lingered there. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes.” It came out as a whisper, and she didn’t want him to doubt her belief. Not now. Not ever. So she firmed her voice and said it again. “Yes, Evan, I believe you.” She sighed, a flood of guilt washing over her. She should’ve let him explain that day when she threw that picture in his face. But she’d been so willing to believe the worst of him. And now here he was begging for her forgiveness.
Unable to meet his eyes, she knew she had to apologize. “I’m really sorry, Evan. I—“ She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at him. “I should’ve talked to you instead of going off half-cocked about a picture someone posted on Facebook.” Shaking her head, she made herself continue. “You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I believed the worst of you. I’m so sorry.” She dropped her gaze back to her clenched hands in her lap. This conversation had to end soon. At least now they both knew the truth. But with the way she’d acted, no way would Evan want to bother with her anymore.
His hand reached over and covered hers, and he scooted closer so he could tip her chin up with his other hand. “It’s okay, Layla. I get that I have a history and everyone’s still learning to look past that, including you. And I know that you have a history, too, with guys with my kind of reputation.” He pressed his lips together, not quite stopping the sigh that escaped. “I guess I thought that you and I had moved beyond that.”
She turned her hand palm up under his, relishing the contact and realizing exactly how much she’d missed him these last two weeks. She’d wallowed in her misery then buried herself in homework to try to distract herself. But with him here, now, touching her, she couldn’t ignore the truth anymore. He made her feel more alive than she did without him. She’d missed their connection, their jokes, their rides to and from school. So much.
“We were. Mostly. I didn’t really think you’d cheat on me, but I always figured you’d get bored with me at some point. So seeing that picture seemed to confirm my worst fears, and I just knew I was right about everything.” Her lips trembled, and she rolled them between her teeth to stop them, but she couldn’t prevent the tear that escaped and rolled down her cheek. “I really am sorry. Can you forgive me?”
His answer was to wipe away the tear with his thumb and press his lips to hers. She didn’t react at first, too stunned. But when he kissed her again, she leaned into him, her lips pushing against his. He pulled back and looked down into her face, his blue eyes full of heat and promise, then his hand went to the back of her head and he slanted his lips over hers again, his tongue sliding into her mouth, and for the first time in weeks the world felt right again.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When she surged against him in response to his kiss, Evan had to pull back to make sure this was really happening. It was. He had her pressed against him, in his arms again. Thank Christ.
He lost himself in their kiss, reacquainting himself with her taste and the contours of her mouth and his hands with the contours of her body. With his mouth still on hers, he pulled her into his lap, her skirt riding up her thighs as she straddled him.
Her hands cupped his jaw, her thumbs grazing over his cheeks, then her fingers wove into his hair. With her breasts pushing into his chest, she squirmed on top of him, and he had to slide his hands under her shirt. Had to. It was an imperative as strong as the need for air.
The door of the gallery opened and closed with a clank and a whoosh. Laughter, followed by someone saying, “Holy shit!” made Evan remember where they were. He slid his hands to Layla’s hips, holding her as she slowly pulled back from their kiss, her hands coming up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide and round.
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
He couldn’t help grinning at her embarrassment, and with a quick kiss to her wrist since her mouth was unavailable, he slid her out of his lap. She buried her face in his arm, which he wrapped around her and stood. With a nod to their intruders, he led Layla in the direction of the parking lot, waiting to adjust himself until they were around the corner and no one was around.
“It’s okay. We’re alone again,” he reassured her and dropped a kiss on her head.
She looked around then up at him. “Oh my God.”
This time he chuckled, squeezing her to his side. “Is that about the kiss or the people interrupting us?”
Her mouth opened and she stopped walking, looking around before meeting his eyes with a sly smile. “Both.”
He kissed her again. But this one didn’t last as long because she pulled back, wiping her lower lip with her hand. “We can’t keep doing this here, Evan. If people are coming out of the reading already, more will be behind them soon. I’m really not an exhibitionist.”
Laughing, he tugged her in the direction of his car. “Fine. Let’s go to my place then. We won’t have an audience there.”
She hesitated for the barest second, but came along. “What about your roommate?”
“Hang on.” He stopped, pulling his phone from his pocket with his free hand, never letting her go. After their extended separation, he didn’t want to stop touching her for even a second, even if texting was slower with one hand. After he put his phone away, he looked up at her, noticing a dopey smile on her face. “What?”
Trying to force her grin away, she shook her head. “Nothin’ you haven’t heard before, I’m sure.”
He pulled her close, looking down at her, making a halfhearted effort at using his size to intimidate the answer out of her. Not that it would ever work on Layla anyway. “Tell me.”
“Nah.” She ran her hand up his chest, biting her lip. “Your head’s big enough. You don’t need me to stroke your ego.”
A groan rumbled in his chest. “I can think of something else I need you to stroke.”
Layla gave him a coy look. “I think we might be able to arrange that. It’s more fun than stroking your ego anyway.”
Wrapping his arms around her, Evan laughed and kissed her again. “Christ, I’ve missed you.” He released her and threaded his fingers through hers. “C’mon, let’s go. I’m tired of waiting.”
She tsked. “So impatient.”
But the smile fell away from her face when he gave her a look, her face mirroring the desire in his. “Yes. Very impatient.”
Once inside his apartment, his hands went to her hips, and he guided her into his room, her legs buckling when the backs of her knees hit his bed. She fell back, and he leaned over to kiss her, urging her farther up. Kicking off her shoes, she followed his silent directions, scooting herself back until her head hit the pillow.
His hand fell to her thigh, hiking up her skirt so he could get to the soft skin underneath. His other hand tangled in her hair to hold her head in place. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, finding hers briefly, then kissed a line down her jaw to her neck, licking and sucking on the sweet skin there. His teeth sunk
into the soft flesh of her earlobe, provoking a gasp from her. She arched under him.
He wanted to tear her clothes off. His clothes too. He wished they were both naked already. That he was inside her. Sinking in, feeling her come, making her his again. He took her mouth again. His fingers plunged inside her. Her hips arched off the bed with a groan. But he pulled back out, trying to yank her panties off her legs. He growled in frustration, almost frantic with his desire to feel her again. Until her hands smoothed up his chest, steady and warm, and, cupping his face again, she broke the kiss.
Her lips were red and puffy, and her brown eyes were dark and warm. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Hey. Slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”
He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. “Sorry.”
She gave him a full smile now. “It’s okay. I understand. And while it sounds sexy to fantasize about getting your clothes ripped off, I’d rather you didn’t destroy what I’m wearing.”
He brushed a kiss over her lips. “Noted.” Forcing himself to slow down, he pulled the neck of her top to one side so he could kiss her collarbone, nipping at the place where her neck joined her shoulder. She gasped, twisting underneath him, and he smiled to himself. His hands went to her waist, pulling her shirt up, exposing her breasts nestled in a sheer pink bra, her nipples puckered against the fabric.
While he did that, she’d started to undo the buttons of his shirt. Impatient with her progress, he pulled back, yanked the shirt over his head and tossed it into the corner. She sat up, coming up on her knees in front of him, her eyes on his torso, her tongue coming out to swipe over her lower lip. Her top had fallen back down to cover her breasts, but she slowly pulled it up and over her head, letting it drop to the floor.
He let out a groan when her hands came up to cup her own breasts.
Pinching her nipples, she moaned. “Oh God, Evan. I’ve missed you so much. All I want is to feel your hands on me. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished we could go back in time.”
Slipping his hands around her waist, he pulled her up against him. “Shhh. It doesn’t matter now. I’m here.” He kissed her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck while he unhooked her bra and undid the zipper on her skirt.
Pulling back, he looked into her beautiful face, flushed with arousal. She lowered her arms to let her bra fall away, and pushed her skirt and panties off together, her hands going for his belt. But again, he grew impatient with how long it took her to work the leather free. He took over, undoing it and getting his jeans off in record time, his cock springing free, hard and ready for her.
So fucking ready.
She reached for him as he climbed back on the bed, her hand gripping him the way he liked, giving him a few firm tugs as he came closer. With a quick kiss and a nip at her lips, he brought his mouth to her ear. “Lay down.”
Her eyes dilated, and she sucked in a breath as she did what he asked. He stretched out beside her, running his hands over her body, worshipping her breasts with his mouth, knowing how much she loved it. He’d missed the taste and feel of her nipples running over his tongue. One hand drifted lower, passing over the soft skin of her belly and dipping between her thighs.
When his fingers parted the lips of her pussy, her hips rose off the bed. He slipped a finger inside her, and she groaned, her hands clutching at his hair as he continued working over her breasts with his mouth. Jesus Christ, she was wet. His cock twitched as she arched and writhed against him. He drew lazy circles with his finger around her clit, dipping inside her to gather more of her wetness and spread it all around.
He began to move his way down her torso, kissing and rubbing his face against her as he went, intent on tasting her again. It had been so long, and he was dying to have her come on his face.
But her fingers tightened in his hair, and he lifted his head to meet her eyes. She gave a tiny shake of her head. “Later. I want you inside me now. I don’t want to wait.”
He tsked. “So impatient.”
Grinning at his use of her words from earlier, she nodded. “Very impatient.”
He loved her sass. She was perfect for him. Stretching over her, he grabbed a condom from the nightstand, rolled it on, and positioned himself at her entrance.
She moved her hips, trying to impale herself on him, but he held himself just out of reach. “Evan, please.” From anyone else, it would’ve been a whine, a whimper, a plea. From Layla, it was a command.
And he was happy to follow her orders. Braced with his hands on either side of her head, he slid inside her, just an inch or so. Christ, she was tight.
She gasped, lifting her hips, forcing him in farther. But he pulled back, sinking in another inch on his next stroke, burying himself completely on the one after that. He held himself still, wanting to last, to make her feel as amazing as she made him feel. Lowering himself to his forearms, he kissed her, making love to her mouth.
Her response was to clutch his hair to drag him closer and wrap her legs around his waist. Demanding little thing.
He started off slow, painfully slow, knowing he’d never last long enough for her if he went hard and fast from the beginning, wanting to make it good—no, fantastic—for her. She met each thrust, her hips slamming into his, grinding with him when they met.
With a quick roll, he moved her on top. “You set the pace, darlin’. I want to feel you come all over my cock.”
He kept his hands on her hips, loving the way she moved and rolled on top of him, her hands braced on his chest, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Her hair fell down her back, almost long enough to brush his thighs when she threw her head back. It fell in a curtain around them both when she leaned forward, moving up and down on him.
She started making those sexy sounds, the breathless gasps, and the little chant of, “Oh, oh, oh, ah,” she always did when she was getting close. Thank Christ. Because he didn’t know how much longer he could hold back.
Licking his thumb, he slipped it between them, rubbing over her clit, giving her the extra friction she needed to tip over the edge. Seconds later, she started to twitch and shudder, her movements slowing with her orgasm. Evan took over. With his hands on her hips, he moved her over his cock. His hips rose to meet hers, driving into her with unrestrained passion. Her pussy clenching around him sent him into a frenzy.
She went limp after she rode out her orgasm. He wrapped his arms around her as he spent himself inside her, his chest heaving with exertion. After a moment, she tried to slide off him, but he held her in place. Without a word between them, she acquiesced, relaxing on top of him again, their bodies still joined.
Stroking a hand down her back, he breathed her in, the citrusy smell of her hair, the slick slide of her skin on his. Something inside him shifted, something that had been off since the night of the party, clicking back into place, and he let out a sigh of contentment.
When Evan finally let her go, Layla curled up under the blankets in Evan’s bed, snuggling into his pillow, his clean smell trapped in the fabric. She’d been a little worried at first that they were moving too fast. They went from apologies to groping each other in the courtyard in a matter of seconds, it seemed like.
But the way he looked at her, the way he made her feel, she couldn’t turn that down again if he was offering. And he was definitely offering.
The last two weeks without him had been hell. The pain of his betrayal—thank God she’d been wrong about that—and the physical ache of his absence had been almost unbearable. Now she only felt terrible that she hadn’t let him explain, had ignored and rebuffed all his attempts to talk to her.
He came back to his room having disposed of the condom, a smile on his beautiful face. She smiled back, enjoying the play of his muscles under his skin as he bent over to lift the blankets and slide into bed with her. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her close and tangled his legs with hers.
This simple intimacy had her sighing and closing her eyes.
He sq
ueezed her ass with one hand, making her open her eyes again. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She lifted her head to look at him better. “I was just thinking about how much time we wasted. And how it’s all my fault. I should’ve talked to you before tonight. I’m really sorry.”
With one hand behind her head, he pulled her in for a kiss. “I wish you would’ve listened to me sooner too.” His mouth pulled into a crooked smile. “But then I wouldn’t’ve been able to read my kickass poem in front of everyone tonight.”
She laughed, giving him a light smack on his chest, that turned into a caress. His pec flexed under her palm, and he gave her a sexy grin. “I’m sure you could’ve still read a kickass poem anyway. But that was pretty amazing. I had no idea you could write like that.”
His face turned serious, and he shrugged one shoulder. “I just wrote what I felt. I didn’t care about impressing anyone but you. That was my only goal.”
“Well, you did. It was beautiful.”
“So was yours. Heart-wrenching. But beautiful.”
She dropped her gaze, still feeling self-conscious that he’d heard her poem. “I didn’t want to do that one.”
“Why not? It was so raw and powerful. Everyone loved it. I think they clapped louder for you than anyone else.”
“Really?” Her eyes met his again, looking for any sign of exaggeration.
But his blue eyes were dark and sincere. “Really. You didn’t notice?”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t paying attention to anyone else. I saw you come in, and I begged Dr. Moore to let me perform one of my other poems. He wouldn’t let me.” She swallowed, her mouth dry as the anxiety from earlier flooded through her again. “I didn’t want to perform it anyway, but especially not in front of you. I knew you’d know what it was about.”
Both arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against his chest, and he fitted her head under his chin. His voice rumbled into her ear as he spoke. “Hey. No. Never be afraid to reveal how you feel to me. I will always be a safe place for you.”
False Assumptions (Players of Marycliff University Book 6) Page 18