Chapter 14
Luca
Here I am in bed with my arms around Evan like I swore to myself I wouldn’t let myself do again.
But it’s okay because Evan doesn’t want to have sex with me again. Like I suspected, once was enough for him.
The fact that during the night, while he was sleeping, his body searched me out and demanded to be in my arms. He may not want my body for sex, but he sure in the hell wants it for warmth and to use in place of a pillow.
My greedy arms don’t care—they like holding Evan. My more than greedy dick is happy too, but beginning to complain that snuggling Evan is not enough. It’s my greediest body part of all—my heart—that suffers most from this situation. It wants more than a ‘once is more than enough’ man to love.
I know I planned on keeping myself away from Evan for his safety, but a part of me hoped I could play the long game with him.
That someday, when the whole Reivers mess was settled, I could ask for more from him.
When Johnny called last night with the good news about Cash and the Reivers getting brought to justice, I felt freer than I had since I was seventeen and first put on the Reivers cut.
I looked over at Evan, who was laughing at some wise-ass comment I’d said to Johnny, and I thought I might deserve to ask for more for me, too.
Of course, even with the Reivers cut down, Patriots Now had to be dealt with, and that meant keeping myself in bodyguard mode, so I’d shelved my fantasies along with the tequila and started buttoning up my coat to spend the night in the cold when Evan told me to sleep with him.
I froze, trying not to act before I could think, which was hard because all my blood was flowing in the opposite direction of my brain.
One simple sentence from him, and all my good intentions fucked right off.
I was seconds from tackling Evan into my bed—until he added in that he didn’t want to have sex with me.
Beside me, Evan snuggles into me and practically straddles my hips to bury his face into my neck. My cock, which was already straining my yoga pants, goes fully hard beneath him.
Evan tenses and stills. His eyes slowly open, and I can tell from the pretty blush on his cheeks he is very much aware that it was my erect cock that acted like his own personal alarm.
“Good morning,” he croaks out, and if he hadn’t already told me he didn’t want me, I’d swear the sexy burr in his throat was more than just sleep-roughened vocal chords but desire.
It’s time to retreat—now—before I can convince myself that last night I didn’t hear him tell me he didn’t want me.
I roll out from underneath him so fast he makes a little cry of surprise.
“I’m going for a shower,” I grind out and head for the bathroom, where I let myself fantasize how different this morning might have been if Evan Kelly wanted me.