by Paige Prince
I’d never seen him cook before, but his hands moved with grace and knowledge, like he’d done this so many times before, it was second nature to him. Goodbye, panties. There was nothing sexier on this planet than a man who knew how to cook, and the guy currently rocking my world as often as possible stood in my kitchen holding a knife in his hand like he’d been born with one.
Evan continued speaking as though he hadn’t just turned my insides to jelly. “When she told me about what she’d had for lunch—Elaborate Grilled Cheese—I decided I had to try it, myself. So, I took my niece to the store after we left and grabbed what I could remember her telling me went into it. My sister came over to pick Jenna up and found her four-year-old munching on bacon and cheese sandwiches while I tried hopelessly to recreate the awesome smell from Christine’s house.”
“Didn’t work the first time?”
He plugged in the Panini press to let it heat up, then turned to flip the bacon as it browned and crisped beautifully. “Not even a little. I had to beg my sister for Christine’s number so I could ask for the proper recipe. I used canned spinach instead of fresh, the bacon was almost raw, none of the cheeses I picked up were smoked—I love that you have so many different kinds of cheese on hand, by the way—and I used Roma tomatoes instead of kumato. Don’t get me wrong, my first try wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t anything like Christine’s.”
I watched as he moved the bacon slices onto a paper towel and moved the skillet to a cool burner before arranging everything on one of the bread slices and topping his masterpiece with the other. Taking the can of olive oil spray from its place by the knife block, he coated the grill and placed the sandwich on the sizzling surface before closing the lid.
While we waited for the ding to sound letting us know the food was ready, I got up and grabbed him a beer from the fridge. By way of thanks for my help, Evan pushed me against a wall and kissed me until we were both breathless. Just as I reached for the waistband of his track pants, the grill sounded its alert.
I’ve never been upset to hear food’s ready before. What is he doing to me?
Evan planted me solidly back on the stool and placed the plate in front of me. I could easily tell why he’d been so desperate for the recipe—it smelled heavenly.
The first bite was like an orgasm in my mouth. So was the second. I was certain I made noises that only should be heard in the bedroom, but I didn’t care. The flavor combination and the texture of the different cheeses with the bacon, tomatoes, and apples was so good, I actually closed my eyes to enjoy it more.
Evan not only knew how to cook, but he could make a grilled cheese taste better than I ever imagined. Granted, it was someone else’s recipe, but he’d learned to make it, perfected his technique, and made one for me. My heart tripped over itself in my chest.
Houston, we have a problem.
***
The limo waiting in front of my apartment building Friday evening shouldn’t have surprised me—we were going to the biggest event in wrestling, after all—but it did. Evan held my hand in his, a radiant smile on his face, “I know we’re going way earlier than you were planning on, but we have to arrive before the fans start swarming the area. It’s likely there’s already a few stalking the entrance waiting for us—the wrestlers, not just you and me—to arrive.”
“Yeah, it’d be weird, arriving after them,” I teased.
I’d never been inside a limo before and I couldn’t help myself—I had to play with everything. I touched every button, turned every dial, checked every crevice. I blushed at Evan’s amused expression, but the buttons and dials seemed to call to me.
When I’d finally had enough, I sat next to him and he grinned at me as he touched a finger to my chin, drawing me to him. “You’re adorable,” he murmured before pressing his lips to mine.
My hand drifted up to caress the side of his cheek and my heart tripped in my chest. I pulled back as if to look into his eyes—something I was prone to do anyway. But something in my expression must’ve been off because his face fell.
“What’s wrong, beautiful?”
“Nothing. A little nervous about tonight. There will be a lot of people there….”
He nodded. “Yes, there will be. Far more than the Hall of Fame ceremony. But you seemed to enjoy yourself quite a bit.”
“That was different. You didn’t have to leave my side for any real length of time. God only knows how long you’ll have to leave me tonight.”
“I’m pretty sure the longest I’ll be gone is forty-five minutes…which is a while,” he quickly said at my expression. “There will be several other people there. A lot of other stars, girlfriends, wives, behind-the-scenes people, and you already sort of know Keith…” he quickly said when my expression apparently contorted into freaking the fuck out. “Not big on crowds, huh?”
I shook my head. “Loathe them. Which is stupid, given my former profession. I can deal. I just have to psyche myself up for it first.”
“Would it help if I distracted you?”
“I think that would help, yes.”
He pressed a button, which sent the partition between the driver and the back of the car sliding up. No wonder he called for a car rather than drive us himself. His lips claimed mine again, and I nearly moaned as his tongue sought out and stroked mine in a sensual dance. My fingers threaded themselves into his hair and I moved closer to him.
I thanked every deity I could think of I’d chosen to wear a skirt rather than slacks as Evan’s hands moved up my thighs and creeped under the fabric. He kissed his way down my neck as his fingers toyed with the edge of my panties, so close to where I wanted him.
“Are you wet for me, Charlie?” He licked along my jawline to the spot just below my ear that drove me wild. “Should I check?”
I could only manage a nod. Bottom lip caught between my teeth, I sucked in a breath when he slid my panties to the side and ran a long, thick finger up and down my slit.
“Mmm, so wet.” He groaned, pushing into my folds and finding me drenched and ready. “Always so wet for me.” Maintaining eye contact, he slid two fingers inside me, pumping slowly until I begged for more. “After I win tonight, this is how I’m going to fuck you. It’ll start slow and sensual. I’ll touch, kiss, and lick every single inch of you until you’re mindless with need. I’ll eat that pretty pussy until you’re screaming my name. And when you think you can’t stand it anymore, that’s when I’ll finally, finally get inside you.”
Without pulling his hand away from my pussy, he knelt in front of me and pushed my skirt up to bare exactly what he wanted to the world—if the windows weren’t so darkly tinted. I opened my legs wider to give him room, and he eagerly pulled me so my ass hung off the edge of the seat before lowering his head and clamping his mouth over my clit.
Fireworks lit up the back of the limo. Or maybe it was just the earth-shattering orgasm coursing through me, because surely they wouldn’t have flammables back here, right?
With the way Evan made me feel, I didn’t care if the entire world burned down around me.
***
When we arrived at the stadium, I’d managed to put myself back together the best I could, considering the limo lacked a restroom. Evan still looked immaculate, even if his hair looked a little more disheveled than it should’ve been. I’d tried to return the favor, but he told me that going in the ring frustrated would help him maintain character. And we’d more than make up for it later on, after the show.
He held my hand in his as we walked into the backstage area. Someone from security handed me a pass to wear around my neck so no one would bother me while Evan was in the ring.
As he started introducing me to people, my anxiety returned. There were so many people, and he seemed to know them all, from the head honcho Travis Hanna all the way down to the stagehands who set up and tore down the equipment between shows.
“Don’t worry, there won’t be a quiz,” Evan joked when he introduced me to four of the female wrestlers at the
same time. He’d started telling me everyone’s real names as well as their alter-egos on stage, but trying to absorb that many names at once made my head spin, so he stuck with their true identities so I’d have time to learn them all. At some point, I was sure I’d start watching wrestling and learn their alter egos. Had to support my man, right?
And there it was again—the stomach-dropping-to-the-ground, world-spinning-too-fast feeling that had me clutching at the wall for balance. My man?
Evan swooped me off my feet and into his arms before I could fall over. “Baby, are you okay?”
I nodded feeling equal parts stupid over nearly fainting because of a thought, and turned on because Evan didn’t even hesitate when I started to go down. My hero. “I’m fine. Just got a little dizzy. Probably just overwhelmed by everything, and I need to eat something. I was too nervous to eat earlier.”
He gave me the look I’d begun to recognize as somewhere between irritation and amusement. “Why do you keep doing that? It’s not good for you to skip meals.”
My heart did that annoying thing where it skipped a few beats. “I just…get busy and forget. I’m trying to remember, I promise.”
He brought me to a room with a black leather couch and ugly blue carpet, and what looked to be a mirrored vanity. “This is where they stage some of the things you see on screen during the show. It’s not really backstage, but the fans think it is.” Carefully setting me down on the couch, he remained kneeling beside me and held out his hand, palm up. “Hand me your phone, please.”
With a puzzled expression, I pulled the cell phone from my tiny, completely impractical handbag and handed it over. He quickly pulled up the menu from the home screen, tapped a few buttons, and handed it back to me. The clock app still showed. Next to my wake up goddammit you’re going to be late! alarm were two new alerts—noon, time for lunch beautiful and six-thirty, time for dinner gorgeous.
Where my alarm titles were typically rude—I cursed at myself in almost every one—his were sweet and endearing. I couldn’t even be mad that he’d just set a reminder for me to eat, something my parents used to do when I was a kid.
I pulled myself up to a sitting position so I could give him a kiss—which was interrupted by a very familiar voice shouting from the door.
“Woah, woah, woah. Wait a minute. Did I miss something here?” Keith stood just outside the room, leaning against the doorframe, a Cheshire cat grin on his face.
“What are you…” I began, but realized Evan still kneeled in front of the couch—on one knee. And Keith walked in to see us kissing. Wasn’t hard to see why he’d put two and two together. The only problem was, in this case, it equaled five. “No, it’s not that.”
“Charlie felt faint so I brought her in here to lie down for a minute.” Evan explained.
Keith barked out a laugh, “She needed mouth to mouth for that?” He winked at me and stood up straight. “I’m kidding. Glad to see you two happy is all. Hey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” He turned and gestured to whoever stood to the side of the entryway.
A stunning redhead walked in, her gorgeous green wraparound dress setting off her bright jade eyes in a way that made them pop all the way from across the room. If she had a stylist, I wanted their name. She waved shyly, “Hi. You must be Evan and Charlie. I’m Samantha, Keith’s girlfriend.”
“You mean you finally found someone who can tolerate you?” Evan laughed and stood to go slap Keith on the back and shake Samantha’s hand. “I’m kidding. Keith is one of my best friends here, even if we don’t always get along.”
“I’ve heard all about you,” she replied as she yanked him into a hug. The shocked look on Evan’s face was almost enough to make me laugh myself off the couch. “Thank you for putting up with this one for as long as you did.”
“Just doing my job as friend and roommate. Hey, I need to grab Charlie some juice,” Evan said as he looked back at me. “She isn’t feeling that well. Do you mind sitting with her for a minute, Samantha?”
“Not at all.” She crossed the room and sat next to me on the couch while the boys took off to wherever the juice was.
I figured they wanted to talk about us and sound manly without having us glare at them, so it was only fair that we did the same. When they walked back in, Samantha had me rolling with a story about the time Keith decided to try on her lipstick, not realizing it was actually lip stain.
“Shit. I knew we shouldn’t have left them alone. I bet they’ve divulged all our secrets,” Keith said, holding a grape juice out for Samantha.
She shrugged and twisted the top off with a flourish. “Your fault for leaving us by our lonesomes.”
I took the apple juice Evan handed to me and clinked it against Samantha’s bottle. “Hear, hear.” The twinkle in my eyes must’ve let him know I was joking, because he laughed as he handed me two packets of crackers.
“It’s not much, but it should hold you over for a little while. If you want something else, just ask one of the stagehands. They know who you are, so they’ll do whatever you ask. Unless it’s illegal. Then, we might have to have a talk.”
We sat in the fake dressing room until time for the guys to go get dressed in their wrestling gear. Samantha led me to a lounge where a few other people, mostly women, sat near a giant television. This was where we’d sit during the show.
After the opening when Evan called Keith a bunch of names and told the world how hard he’d kick Keith’s ass, he sat in the seat beside me to watch the show. I rolled my eyes a few times during the first couple matches, but by the third or fourth one, I nearly jumped out of my seat to yell at the screen when the one I decided I liked got punched in the head.
“He’s the face,” Evan explained, pointing to the guy in jean shorts who called himself James Mesa. “The face is the ‘good guy.’ The one the crowd is supposed to cheer for. The character I play is a heel right now. He’s the ‘bad guy.’”
“Why are you a heel ‘at the moment’? Isn’t someone good or bad all the time?” I almost clapped my hand over my mouth. It was so obvious I’d never seen an episode of wrestling. And Evan had brought me. He must’ve been so embarrassed.
But when he answered, he didn’t act like it. Just explained everything to me patiently and held my hand through it all. He even seemed excited that I’d taken an interest—several months after we started…whatever it was we were doing.
“Sometimes the character will turn heel or face temporarily. Either because they’ve been wronged or because they’re acting like they’ve changed into a good person—usually to turn on the face they’ve teamed up with and hit them over the head with something. In my case, Keith hit me in the head with a chair during a match.” At my look of horror, he quickly added, “It was scripted, of course. I didn’t get hurt.”
Someone wearing a headset and holding a clipboard signaled to him from the hall. “Beast, you’re up.”
He pressed a kiss to my hand and left with Headset. Samantha took his place. “Looks like our guys get to duke it out for a while. Keith won’t tell me who’s supposed to win. He likes me to be surprised at the results, the brat.”
Ten minutes into the match, I chewed on my nails with my eyes glued to the screen. I cringed every time Evan took a hit and cried out as he tumbled over the side of the ropes.
“Don’t worry about him, sweetie.” Samantha smiled at me, her eyes kind as she reached for my hand. “I’m sure he’ll be sore after, but he’s fine.”
I didn’t take my eyes away from the screen. “How do you manage not to go insane, watching Keith do this all the time?”
I could sense her shrug rather than see it. “While we’ve only been together a few months, we’ve been friends forever. You kind of get used to it...” She winced as Keith took a fall and appeared to hit his head on the steel steps. “On second thought, you don’t. It’s easier when you remember they’re trained for this. They’re very careful not to hurt each other. It happens, of course. You can’t prevent everythi
ng. But they do their best.”
“We’ve got to stick together.” She winced as Evan pinned Keith yet again, but missed the three count.
“We?” I asked, resisting the urge to curse.
“The significant others. No one else understands what we go through except each other.”
“You’re right…” I cut myself off with my own joyous shout as Evan got the pin and won the belt.
When Evan and Keith appeared backstage, I threw myself into Evan’s arms, not caring how sweaty and slicked up he was. “That was amazing! And terrifying! And awesome!” I stood on tiptoe to give him a kiss, but couldn’t reach his mouth until he leaned down—even with the ridiculously high-heeled shoes I wore.
He lifted me and spun me around in a dizzying circle. “Thanks, beautiful. So does that mean you’re a fan now?”
“Oh, Evan. I’ve always been your fan. But if you’re asking whether or not I’ll watch from now on…I suppose I will. Just to see you in these teeny tiny wrestling shorts. A girl’s gotta have her priorities, you know.”
***
It seemed we’d never get home. There were endless interviews, a party, and the seemingly ten thousand-mile ride in the limo, which no longer held any charm for me. I was so tired and my feet ached so badly, I thought I’d never be able to walk again. Evan removed my shoes and used his amazing hands to rub the arches of my feet as I fell asleep, my head leaning against the door.
When I woke, he was kissing me, his hands cupping either side of my face. Somehow, he was kneeling on the floorboard beside me. I wondered how he’d managed it without waking me, but all coherent thought flew from my mind as he deepened the kiss.
My hands found their way to his shoulders, down his arms, and up his back. I wanted to touch every part of him, to feel every inch of his skin with my fingers. I fumbled with the buttons on his black shirt, desperate to have my hands on him. “Off.”