17. Because Of You
SEVENTEEN
BECAUSE OF YOU
Lach
Last night was reckless. It shouldn’t have happened, especially with Jake sitting on the couch. He could have caught us. Maybe he did, and now he’s plotting the perfect murder.
My willpower is disintegrating faster than a paper straw in a glass of water, especially after last night and now today. She has her golden hair pulled back in a ponytail, showing off her sunflower tattoo I love. All I want to do is brush my lips against her delicate skin, right below her ear next to the ink. Her sweet laughter floats down the length of the bar, making my dick twitch. The sound of her laughter, light and carefree, is utterly captivating. I could listen to it all night long. But instead, I’m stuck in the torture of having to work beside her and closing down the bar—just the two of us. I need to restrain myself from touching her because once I do, I won’t be able to let go. Fuck. I need away from her so I can breathe. “Hey Eve, I have to run to the back for a second. Can you handle everything?”
She twists around, counting the five patrons sitting at the bar. “Yeah. I think I can handle it.” She nods.
I storm down the hallway, shoving the bathroom door open. It clicks shut behind me. For the past six hours, I’ve been next to her or within feet of her. I’m in desperate need of a break. I’ve never been so caught up in someone before. She makes it hard. So fucking hard. My restraint is on the verge of snapping like an over-stretched rubber band. One more tug and it’ll snap in two. Sadly, I have ninety minutes before I can relieve my misery. Until tomorrow, anyway. If I start closing duties early, maybe I can cut it to sixty. I blow out a deep breath and head back to the bar.
When I round the corner, I freeze. My gaze drifts down. The denim is perfectly molded to Eve’s ass as she grabs a bottle of beer from the bottom of the cooler. I tear my gaze away. This is going to be the longest ninety minutes of my life.
Over the next hour, customers get fewer and farther between. I start the closing duties early, hoping to get out of here faster. Every time I turn around, Eve is right there, standing next to me, brushing past me, or reaching over me. The sly and playful upturn of her lips each time our gazes connect makes me suspect she’s doing it on purpose.
When the last customer leaves, I lock the door. “I’m going to go to the storage room to restock the liquor shelf and coolers.”
Eve tugs her hair from her ponytail. Her long hair cascades down her shoulders like a silken waterfall. “Okay. I’ll start sweeping.” She pulls a broom from the small nook next to the register and starts sweeping on the far side of the bar.
I flip the light switch, and the fluorescent lights flicker and hum to life. I stalk across the room, swipe two bottles of vodka, and tuck them under my arm. Footsteps echo across the storage room, and I glance over my shoulder. Eve stops within arm’s reach of me.
“I never got to say this last night,” she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “but I didn’t stay to watch hockey. I stayed because of you,” she murmurs. Her hand rests lightly on her chest, near her heart, the words a confession. Delicately, she trails her fingers over her chest and down the valley of her tits. “I went to bed thinking of you.” My nostrils flare with every rise and fall of my chest. Her hand drags over her stomach. “Your mouth on mine. While your fingers dipped into the waistband of my sleep shorts. The same ones from the hotel room.”
My gaze lingers on her fingers as she idly traces the waistband of her jeans. As seconds pass, my heart rate accelerates so fast it might burst through my rib cage.
Her lips fall open on a whispered gasp. “I closed my eyes, picturing your hand, your fingers as they slid inside the elastic and over my pussy.”
“Eve,” I growl, the rest of the words getting lodged in my throat. I’m torn between telling her to stop and that she can’t stop until she finishes.
Her hand dips to between her legs. “The pad of your finger grazing over my clit before sliding down to my entrance.”
“Eve.” My deep voice is a warning. But it’s not a warning to stop. All my restraints snap in half. This is the point of no return. In one long stride, I’m clasping her hand in mine. Her hooded eyes stretch wide as I tug her out of the storage room.
“Where are we going?” The clatter of her steps shuffle behind me, but she quickly regains her balance.
I don’t answer her. Instead, I lead us into the employee room. Without turning on the light, I drag her to the far corner of the room. Spinning her around, her back smacks against the wall. My fingers dig into the soft skin of her waist as my other hand threads through her hair. I crash my lips to hers. She inhales a sharp breath before her lips mold to mine. It’s a sweet and satisfying kiss. Her hands roam up my torso and rest on my chest while I tug her closer, my growing erection digging into her stomach. She moans into my mouth, and I swallow the sound.
I barely survived the last week not kissing her. Touching her. Because this is perfection. Her kisses are like a breath of fresh air, bringing me to life. Realization hits me—I hadn’t been living until I met her.
She breaks away from the kiss. Her chest heaves as she collects her breath. “We’re doing this?”
I press my lips to hers, giving her my answer.
“And Jake?”
I run the tip of my nose along hers. “Honestly, I don’t even know anymore. The only thing I’m sure of is you. This. Kissing you. Touching you. It’s the only thing I need.”
A small smile flirts on her lips. “Me too.” Her mouth crashes to mine. The kiss is just as frantic as earlier as if she needs me just as much as I need her.
My hand slides over the curve of her ass and to the back of her thigh. I hike her leg over my hip, grinding my rock-hard dick against her. A moan rumbles from the back of her throat, so I do it again, loving the noises she makes. Fuck, I miss this. Miss her. So damn much.