Running Away With You (Running #3)

by Suzanne Sweeney

  “Good. Again. Good. Now move up, jab, cross, hook, uppercut. Good. Again. Jab, and again. Jab. Good, now cross. Again, cross. One more cross. Good.” The commands come quickly and Evan responds to each without hesitation. He’s a machine. His muscles bend and flex. His skin is shimmering with sweat and I watch as small droplets drip from his face. The air is mixed with testosterone and sweat. The look on his face is feral and it’s the hottest damned thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

  “Look at them,” Camilla whispers. “We’re the luckiest girls on the planet.”

  When Marcus puts the pads down, I know the exercise is over. Evan hunches over, places his hands on his knees and stops to catch his breath. Marcus really did give him a good workout.

  “Damn. Is it over already?” Camilla complains.

  I nod in agreement and watch as Evan stands back up, approaches Marcus, and pulls him in for a man-hug. They talk quietly for a few moments and Evan’s eyes narrow before he pulls back and nods, offers Marcus a half smile and pats him hard on the shoulder. They both come down off the ring and smile at us.

  “Feel better?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” Evan shrugs and flashes a cocky smile. “I could have gone longer, but Marcus was ready to quit.”

  Adam unties the gloves and tosses them to the side. The moment his hands are free, he grabs me and pulls me in for a sweaty, grimy hug. Resistance is futile, so I don’t even bother trying to fight. He lifts me and kisses me deeply and passionately. When he finally releases me, I’m dizzy and stunned.

  “Let’s go home, Running Girl. I have to shower and you have to get ready.”

  “Get ready? For what?”

  “A party,” Camilla proclaims. “You’ve both worked out your frustration – now it’s time to have fun and relax. My house tonight, after dinner. And don’t even think about bringing anything. You two are our guests tonight.”

  Adam and Derek drive us back home. I curl up on Evan’s lap in the back seat while he plays with my hair. We had a horrible morning, but feeling his strong arms and gentle touch is all the medicine I need to make things right.

  Chapter Eight

  Building Bridges

  It’s times like this that I treasure. The two of us getting dressed together, getting ready for a night out with our friends. It brings me so much joy to see how well our lives have weaved together. His home is my home. My friends are his friends. Our lives have become one.

  Thankfully, we’re both in great moods. Evan is playful and silly, pinching my ass and grabbing my boobs whenever he’s near me. I love feeling young and normal. We hardy ever get to behave this way.

  Evan is shirtless again as he finishes getting ready in the master bath. He’s left the door open and I watch, mesmerized, as he shaves. I gaze at his bare feet, his unbuttoned jeans, the happy-trail of tiny hairs that disappear below his waistband, and the focused look on his face as he stands at the sink. There is something intimate and erotic about watching a man shave.

  He’s got his iPod plugged into the wall dock, filling the room with the Eagle’s “Hotel California” as he spreads the shaving cream across his face, careful not to miss any spots. He grabs his razor, runs it under the steaming-hot water, and meticulously begins to remove the white foamy lather. His eyes are fixated and he has no idea that I am watching him. He’s humming along and I’m enjoying the show.

  These precious moments are the ones I will cherish forever. Evan has taken me to exclusive restaurants, introduced me to multitudes of celebrities, and showered me with gifts. But none of those can compare to this simple act. This is my man, my future husband, and nothing brings me more joy.

  As he makes the last pass with the razor, I decide to join him. I drop my robe and slink into the bathroom beside him wearing nothing but my bra and panties. When he looks up from the sink and into the mirror, he smiles when he sees my reflection beside his own. “I thought you were getting ready.”

  I hand him a towel to dry his face, take his aftershave, and pour a generous amount into the palm of my hand. “I was, but I thought you could use a little help.”

  He steps back from the sink, giving me just enough room to work. As I’m working the lotion between my hands, he gently lifts me and places my ass on the counter. I spread the musky lotion across his face, rubbing gently. He lifts his chin and I move down his neck as he caresses the gentle curves of my bare skin.

  I love the silky smooth feel of his skin just after he shaves. In just a few hours, a hint of a scruff will appear and I know he will use that as a weapon to tease and torture me in bed later tonight.

  I use the little lotion that’s left to massage his broad shoulders. Taking advantage of his playful mood, I slide my hands down his chest and find the growing erection pressing against the denim. A few playful strokes, and I know he’s putty in my hands.

  “Any more of that and we’re going to be late. Very late,” he breathes in my ear as he begins to nibble on the sensitive flesh beneath.

  “I’m okay with that.” I release the zipper on his jeans and his erection springs to life. Evan throws his head back as I work my hand up and down while he releases soft moans of pleasure that make me wet with anticipation.

  He reaches up and pulls down the cup of my bra, freeing my breast so he can bring his mouth down on it immediately. With his free hand, he slips aside my silk panties and tests my readiness. When Evan slides a finger inside me, I tilt my hips and open up for him. When he adds a second finger, my legs begin to shake.

  Suddenly he stops and takes a step back, leaving me empty and void without his touch. He kicks off his jeans and sends them flying across the room. He steps back to me, placing himself between my knees, his erection full and heavy.

  Evan places one arm beneath each knee and gently slides me to the edge of the counter, arm muscles flexing and pressing against my heat. His eyes mirror the ocean of lust that is dripping from my own before they drift down my mostly nude frame. He is drinking me in and I quiver as his gaze settles on my sex. I give up complete control to him and the sensation is exhilarating. I feel carnal. I feel wanted.

  I reach down and rub my thumb across the pearly liquid on the tip of his hardness and slide my hand enthusiastically up and down while he continues to pump his fingers wildly in and out of me. I look up into his eyes and discover he’s watching my expressive reaction to his touch.

  My core is pulsing with need and desire. I release him and hook my legs around his waist and pull him even closer, desperate to make the connection that will satisfy my growing impatience.

  Evan slowly slides his fingers from me, grabs his cock, and presses it against me, circling around my entrance, spreading my wetness, and teasing me.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Evan whispers into my mouth. I run my fingers through his hair, pulling and stroking it with the same rhythm as the throb deep in my pelvis as he kisses me deeply, our tongues teasing and tasting.

  When I move my hands down to his ass and run my nails across his flesh, he moans loudly. I feel his muscles tense, and with a swift plunge he’s deep inside me. I gasp in shock at the sudden fullness, holding on to the counter and shuddering against him.

  Both eager and desperate for comfort and release, we speed up, his hips moving faster against mine, creating the most delightful friction. I slip from one orgasm into another with only the briefest pause between.

  “Oh yes, Evan!” I call as the second orgasm quakes through my body with an intensity I hadn’t imagined possible. I feel my muscles tighten against him. He rams into me and stills as he finds his release, air hissing through his teeth.

  We stay there, motionless, locked together for the longest time. “Don’t move,” Evan instructs as he slowly slips from my possession. He steps over toward the shower and I hear the water running.

  Before I have time to wonder what he has planned, the water stops and he returns carrying a soapy washcloth. It’s warm and soft as he presses it against me, removing all traces of our lovemaking. He dries
me with a fluffy towel and places me gingerly back on my feet, sweeping me up in his arms and pressing his full lips against mine.

  With a smack on the ass he orders me to get dressed so we can go. I adjust my bra and change my panties before slipping on a blue shift dress that reminds me of Evan’s sapphire-blue eyes. I pull on a pair of gray knee-high boots and return to the bathroom to apply my makeup.

  I look at myself in the mirror. My post-orgasm glow has added a beautiful shade of crimson that mixes well with the hint of bronzer I apply to my cheeks. Evan stands behind me, fully dressed, inspecting me. “Hmm, not bad, not bad. But something is missing,” he teases.

  “Evan, stop playing. We’re late enough as it is,” I warn him.

  “I know what you need, my love. Turn around.” I do as I’m told and I can see the two of us in the reflection of the mirror. He removes a necklace from his pocket and places it around my neck, fastening the clasp and freeing my hair. He places his hands across my middle and rests his chin on my shoulder. I’m much closer to his height with my high-heeled boots. I reach up and run an experimental finger across the delicate white petals of the flower pendant.

  “Evan, it’s beautiful. But what’s the occasion?”

  “I just thought you should have this. It’s a white gardenia. I told you I wanted you to carry the gardenia on our wedding day. This way, you can carry a piece of it with you every day. And with every day that passes, we are another day closer to our wedding.”

  “Mrs. Juliette McGuire,” I state proudly, gazing at our reflection.

  We pull up to Marcus’s home and Evan makes me wait in the car for him to open my door. His mother raised him to be such a gentleman. How this man could have gone all these years without ever having a serious relationship is beyond my understanding.

  Evan takes me by the hand and leads me to the front door, his huge hand dwarfing mine. After just one knock, Camilla swings the door open. She takes one look at us and calls to the others, “It’s them! They’re here.” She motions for us to come in. “Thank God! Where have you been? Everyone else got here over an hour ago.”

  He leans in close to Camilla’s ear and whispers, “We got a little ... distracted. Once she gets started, there’s no stopping her.” He smiles his million-dollar smile, full-on dimples.

  Camilla looks up at him, eyes wide. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Oh. Yeah. Well, why don’t we just ... ? I mean, everyone’s in the back. Playing. Poker. They’re playing poker, not just playing.” Camilla is flustered. It’s so sweet. I think Evan likes to embarrass her on purpose. It’s hard to get that kind of reaction from Emmy or Reese.

  Camilla leads us to the great room in the back of the house. She’s got a beautiful open kitchen/dining room/living room floor plan. Her dining room table has been transformed into a poker table, complete with slots for chips and cup holders. Seated around the table are Emmy, Adam, Marcus, and Reese.

  The rooms are filled with the sounds of laughter and classic rock tunes playing in the background.

  “Look who finally decided to show up,” Emmy teases. “You’re late. We started without you.” She gets up and rushes up to greet us. “I heard today sucked balls.”

  She gives Evan a big kiss and a hug. “But Adam told me how well you kept your shit together. I’m so proud of you! Will you let me make you guys a drink?”

  Emmy leads us over to the wet bar in the kitchen. “Ladies first. Name your poison, Jette. What’s it going to be?”

  I look across the lineup of bottles covering the countertop. Everything’s there – rum, vodka, tequila, whiskey, brandy, and all sorts of mixers. Marcus even has a fully stocked wine cooler.

  “How about a Three-Legged Monkey?” I ask. One of our favorite things to do when we used to work behind the bar together was challenge each other to make obscure drinks.

  She puts her hands on her hips and pouts. “That’s not a real drink!”

  “Sure it is. Go ahead, ask the house mixologist.”

  “Markie?” she calls. “I have a difficult customer. Will you take over? Pleeeeease?” Emmy hops back over to her seat beside Adam and practically curls up in his lap.

  “So, Jette, what did you order that ran off one of my best bartenders?” he teases.

  “Just a simple drink, really, only three ingredients. Ever hear of a Three-Legged Monkey?” I can see him searching through the recipe cards in his head. When he thinks he’s found it, he smiles.

  Evan leans back against the counter, pulling me to lean against him as he wraps his powerful arms around my waist. Watching Marcus make a drink is like watching a magic show, and I have the best seat in the house.

  Without a word, he lifts the bottle of Crown Royal and shows it to me. I nod and he pours an ounce into the mixing glass. Next he passes his hand from bottle to bottle until he settles on the amaretto. With a few flips and turns, he adds an ounce to the glass and replaces the bottle. The last ingredient is pineapple juice. Marcus slaps on the shaker and tosses the combo into the air, catching it right side up effortlessly. He opens the two parts just enough to strain the drink into a rocks glass and serves it to me proudly.

  I take an experimental sip and proclaim, “This is pure perfection, Marcus.” It’s true.

  “I’m glad you like it, boss. So, what’ll it be, Mac? I’d like to get back to the game and try to win back some of my money from Sparky.” I guess Adam’s nickname is catching on.

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you surprise me?” Evan asks him. I can feel him grinning. There’s something primal within men that make them want to constantly challenge each other.

  “Oh, okay. I see how it is. Your fiancée tests my memory and you test my customer service skills.” He looks Evan up and down, sizing him up and judging his mood. “Let’s see. We know you have expensive tastes, but nothing too fancy. You’re here to relax and let off some steam after a pretty crappy day. I’ve got just the thing!”

  First he pours some rum and triple sec into a glass of ice. He opens his cabinet and finds a special hidden bottle of cognac. The bottle is ornate and it screams refinement. Marcus adds a generous amount of the fine brandy, and then finishes the drink off with a splash of sweet and sour mix.

  Evan seems impressed. He lifts the glass to his nose before taking a small sip. “Oh, yeah! This is good. What is it?”

  “Between the Sheets,” Marcus explains. “I thought you’d like it.”

  “Well, as usual, you’re right.”

  Evan and I take our drinks and join the others gathered around the table. There are two empty seats next to Marcus and Camilla. Evan holds out a chair for me to sit down. When he joins us, he pulls his chair close so our knees are in constant contact. I crave his touch and this little connection makes me feel warm all over.

  “So, what are we playing?” Evan asks.

  “Dealer’s choice. Hundred-dollar buy-in. Put up or shut up.” Adam’s rack is filled with chips – a lot more chips than the others. I know they’ve been playing for a little while, and by the looks of things, I’d say Adam is killing it.

  “Hundred dollar buy-in?” I repeat. “Seriously?”

  Reese rolls her eyes. “Yup. We’re not playing for nickels anymore, Jette. This isn’t college and we’re not playing for beer money this time.”

  “Well, I don’t carry that kind of cash around with me,” I tell her.

  “I’ve got this covered,” Evan tells me. He pulls out his wallet and flashes a wad of cash, mostly twenties. He quickly counts out ten bills and passes them to Marcus. He doles out our chips and now we’re ready to play.

  There’s an empty seat beside me. I scan the room, taking inventory and ask, “Hey, where’s Derek?”

  “He’s on his way. He had to run a few errands first,” Camilla explains. “He should be here any minute now.”

  “Well, before you deal the next round, I have to ask the girls for a favor,” I announce. “Evan and I are going to a charity ball next weekend and I need your help. I need to go sho
pping for an evening gown.”

  “Shopping? I’m in!” Reese calls. “What kind of a charity ball is it?”

  “It’s the Unicef Snowflake Ball. We’re going to the Grand Ballroom at Cipriani Wall Street. It’s a black tie event.”

  “And Juliette’s first red-carpet event. I want her to look her best, so everything is on me, girls. Make a day of it – lunch, spa, whatever you need. She has my Visa Black Card.”

  “Oh, my God! This is so exciting. Do you know who’s going to be there?” Camilla asks.

  “I know Katy Perry’s going to perform. But I read on the internet that Danny Glover is getting a humanitarian award, so he’ll be there. Celebrities like Selena Gomez, Uma Thurman, and Adrien Brody will be there too.”

  Camilla is so excited she can hardly get the words out. “Oh. My. God. Do you think Selena will take Justin Bieber? That would be incredible. Take me, please? We’ll buy you a big dress and I’ll hide under the skirt. No one will ever know I’m there. I’ll carry your purse. Whatever you need.”

  Evan just shakes his head. “That little ass better not be there.”

  “Oh, Camilla, I wish I could take you. I wish we could all go. I won’t know anyone there.”

  “I almost forgot to tell you, Juliette. I got a call from Joey Griffin yesterday. He cleared his schedule. He and Maggie will be joining us at our table.” He puts his arm around my shoulders and traces tiny, invisible circles with the pad of his thumb. I like spending time with Joey and Maggie. Night After Night with Joey Griffin doesn’t tape on the weekends, and I know how much he values keeping a low profile. He and Maggie don’t do a lot of red-carpet events. I’m glad they’re making an exception.