Page 115 of Someone Like Me
Not rushed. Or careless.
The feel of Evie, bare-breasted beneath me, is enough to tempt me to yank down her pants, unzip my jeans, and take her here. Now. With urgency.
But that would only satisfy the desire for her. Not the love.
I push myself up, drawing my groin out of the cradle of her body, and plank above her. Her eyes watch me, curious for a moment, and then Evie’s hands fall to my fly.
Stopping her is critical. I shift to the side and come to my knees. “Not yet,” I say, grasping her wrists just as she undoes the button.
A line forms between her two delicate brows. I take her arms and loop them around my neck.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her frown etching deeper.
“Making love to you.” I straighten, taking her with me. And then, gathering her in my arms — one under her knees, the other tucked around her bare back — I rise.
“Where are we going?” Her eyes, a touch wide, make a quick sweep over the tiny apartment.
“Not far.” And I lower her back down, but this time centering her on the bed with her head on the pillow as it should be. Not in the middle of the mattress as if joining with her were an accident.
This is purposeful. Intentional.
She gives a startledOh,as she settles against the pillow, still looking at me with confusion. I lean over her and press my lips to hers, letting our mouths fuse, melt open, tongues slide and grip.
But just for a moment.
Then I pull back and stand again. This time alone.
Evie’s cheeks are flushed. Maybe from the kiss. Maybe from the carrying. She’s watching me with rapt attention, and the blush on her skin, the anticipation bright in her eyes — all that is Evie nearly steals my breath.
“You’re so damn beautiful.”
My voice sounds foreign to my ears. Deeper. More animal. But for now, I’ve harnessed the beast that wants to run wild with her. Gentling him with a promise of grazing. Of years, not seconds.
“Come back,” she says, her voice trembling. With desire? With nerves? I can’t tell, but the urge to return and cover her with my body is almost maddening.
“Soon.” And I reach for my fly and finish the job she started. What comes next will be torturously slow. Deliberate. Expansive. And I want both of us to be completely bare so every inch of skin, every nerve ending can bear witness.
Evie’s eyes widen as I drop jeans and briefs to the floor.
“You’rebeautiful,” she whispers, her gaze sweeping over me. The same word that captures her can’t possible describe someone like me. Ex-con auto mechanic? No way. But if she likes what she sees, I’m not gonna argue.
I sit beside her, and when she reaches a hand to me, I catch it in my own, bring it to my lips, and kiss her knuckles.
“Just wait.”
Her brows dip. “But I want to touch you.”
“You will touch me.” Even saying the words makes my already straining cock leap. And if she touches me now, my control might slip. “Just let me touch you first.”
I see by the way her lashes flutter that she doesn’t have any real objections to this. Indeed, when I clasp the waistband of her yoga pants, she lifts her hips so the pants and a pair of pale pink panties slip right off. For the third time in less than twenty-four hours, I’m treated to the sight of the tiny triangle of curls hiding her sex. In the garage when I had no more control than a falling boulder. In the steam of the shower where Evie held the reins. And now, here in the quiet of my room, where I can look all I want.
She is grace. From head to toe.
Pardon and innocence and forgiveness all at once. A clean conscience and a cleaner soul.
Everything I want. As close as I’ll ever come.
I long to touch her most sensitive spots. Roll her nipples between thumb and forefinger. Lap again at the crest of her cleft. Shape her perfect behind with both hands.
