Chapter 24 Flo
My eyes find Evan’s shirt-covered back the second I wander down to the lake just by his property, after telling him I’d meet him there when we got home, because frankly, I needed a few minutes to pull myself together. And rid my mouth of the taste of Sex on the Beach.
Gravity pulls me closer to him, and I join him on the bench he’s sitting on with his knees up and hands clasped together, resting on his thighs.
The water doesn’t move much—just the occasional ripple, the setting golden sun glinting off it, creating colourful shadows. Clouds stretch along the sky above us, thin and wispy, and mountains sit behind the large swaying trees, dotted with patches of crisped-up grass.
“It’s a little cold for a swim,” I say with a light chuckle, and lean back, welcoming the wind that weaves around me. I didn’t bother changing into a bikini to put under my clothes. My underwear will suffice.
“I was this close,” Evan’s standing in front of me now, pinching his thumb and finger together, but leaving a millimetre of space between them, “to snapping Sam’s neck today.”
“He’s your friend. You wouldn’t do that.”
His greys find my blues. “Over you, I definitely would, trouble.”
“Is that you admitting that you were jealous?”
We’re too close for innocent thoughts right now. He’s practically in between my legs, hands splayed out on the bench, either side of me, breath fanning across my chin. My core trembles.
Yeah, this man is so not out of my system.
“Yes, Flo, it’s me admitting I was jealous.
Very jealous. Ever since you stepped into my house, you’ve been in my head.
When I’m out on the field. When I’m with my son.
When I’m in the shower before bed with my hand wrapped around my cock.
I can’t escape what you do to me, and there’s nothing more I want right now than for you to let me bend you over this bench and show you just how jealous of a man I can be. ”
I’m overcome with a shudder. A desperate, driven shudder.
Leaning closer, I say, “Well, why don’t you, West? I definitely wouldn’t complain.”
Evan’s eyes pin me in place, dark with want. Mine are a mirror, reflecting my own feelings.
“Flo,” he grumbles.
“Yes?”
“What I’m about to do is very selfish of me, and will make things a hell of a lot harder than it needs to be.”
“Then make it hard.”
He then crashes his lips to mine, desperate and demanding. I respond in little time, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer, widening my legs so he can step into the space between them.
We’re frantic, completely lost in each other.
His already rock-hard cock grinds up against me, and a soft whimper emerges. My hips seem to work on autopilot. Wriggling until the friction feels delicious, and I thump my forehead against Evan’s shoulder and let it roll. “Oh, shit.”
“No one’s here, trouble. Be as loud as you need to be.”
My responding moan is amplified.
Technically, because this lake isn’t on Evan’s land, someone could walk, or canoe, past right now and see us, but it makes it all the hotter, knowing that we could get caught.
Evan’s hands shape my waist, hoisting me closer to him, until we’re chest to chest. His heartbeat thrums softly against me, lightly dulled by the layers of fabric between us.
I want us naked.
He peppers kisses along my collarbone, and I crane my neck so he has better access, each peck feeling like fire brushing against my already flaming skin.
“Flo, I’ve tried my hardest to keep my distance from you, not to feel the things I do, but I can’t take it anymore. You’re driving me fucking crazy.”
“Take what you want, Evan.”
“I bet you’re dripping for me, aren’t you?”
He’s right. I’m soaking, dripping down my thighs. The wetness against my panties is uncomfortable.
“That night in New York, I could hear it. But I want to see it, Flo.”
And in that second, he finds the curve of my knees on the back of my legs, and bends them up until my feet are on the bench before him.
I’m wearing a flowy summer dress, the same blue and white one I wore at the Missarali Storks team barbecue, which I know Evan finds particularly eye-catching, but it also gives him easy access.
I’m spread, baring myself to him. The only thing in the way is my lacy, pale green panties. His eyes devour the sight.
“You’re soaking through your panties, Flo.”
“Take them off.”
“Are you sure?”
“Evan West, I don’t want to have to beg you.”
That makes his lips quirk, but he doesn’t make me.
Adhering to my request, Evan grips the thin, string-like waistband of my thong and slides it from my body slowly, eyes glued to my pussy.
His eyebrows scrunch, and a low growl emits from his chest. “Shit, you’re so pretty, baby. So fucking wet for me.”
I lean back on my hands and allow my head to flop back.
It’s been a little while since I’ve been intimate with anybody like this, and some might feel self-conscious or uneasy, but with Evan, it feels natural.
There’s no desire to hide myself or my body.
I want him to see every inch of me. Touch every inch of me. “Shit, Evan. I need you.”
“Yeah, is that what you need?” His fingers slip past my wetness, smearing it along the folds and brushing against my clit, which causes me to jolt and release a breathy, “Fuck.”
He hums in satisfaction.
“Holy shit, yes,” I hiss when he sinks one finger in, only to the second knuckle. He doesn’t move, but he doesn’t need to as he pushes against my sweet spot.
“I’m going to fuck this pussy with my fingers, trouble, watch you come for me, and then I’m going to fill you with my cock until the only thing these pretty lips can murmur is my name.”
My entire body tightens, muscles pulsating. “Evan, please.” I squirm.
He adds a second finger and pushes them deep inside, and the sensation of him stretching my pussy walls causes me to groan in pleasure.
He pumps and twists slowly, and I watch as a smattering of sweat forms on my chest from my soaring temperature. My hands grip the edge of the wooden bench, ends of my fingers turning white.
“That’s it, widen those legs for me. Is this what you needed, trouble? My fingers filling you up?”
“Yes, fuck yes, faster, Evan. Harder.”
“You look so pretty with my fingers shoved inside of you.”
Shit. So this single dad is a hell of a dirty talker? There’s no way I can hold off my already rising orgasm.
Evan curls his fingers so he hits just the spot I need, and within a minute, I’m trembling for him.
My wide eyes are focused on where his digits disappear inside of me, watching every pump, honing in on the glistening wetness of my juices coating his fingers as he pulls them out and pushes them back in again.
His forearms twitch, the veins pulsating. “Do you want a third?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Oh my God, yes!”
“Can you handle a third, Florence?”
I’m not sure if it’s Evan genuinely checking or taunting me, but in this moment, I don’t care enough to check and quip back. Nodding my head, I grip onto his steely arm.
He pumps so fast—adding another finger—that my tits bounce in my sundress, and soft groans and moans fall from my lips. Getting louder and louder. As I climb higher and higher.
“Shit, Evan, just like that. You’re gonna make me—” My pussy tenses around him.
“Beg me to make you come, trouble. Let me hear you say you want it.”
Resisting the defiant urge to glare at him and respond with a curt no, I press my lips to his and murmur, “Please, Evan, make me come,” because I am so desperate for it that I would do anything right now.
And there isn’t an ounce of me that regrets it because I come so hard that I’m seeing stars.
The world is drowned in white, but the man standing in front of me is untouched by it, every detail of him accentuated, including the way his eyes twinkle with delight at seeing me succumb to the pleasure he’s inflicted upon me.
My whimpering doesn’t stop as he continues to fuck me with his fingers, head flopping back against the bench, eyes staring up at the wispy clouds and orange sky.
“Shit, that was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.” My breathing comes out in laboured pants, and I peel my hair away from my damp forehead.
“There are more where that came from.” Evan’s planting kisses down my legs, until he gets to my tattered sneakers, and he pulls them off, along with my socks, and throws them to the ground.
“You have some kind of foot fetish, West?”
It makes his shoulders shake with a chuckle. “No, but yours definitely do it for me. Every part of you is perfect.”
I throw him a humoured look, and then sit myself up, leaning forward to work on his shirt buttons. He's wearing far too many clothes.
His shirt is thrown to the side, followed by his shoes.
Jeans.
Socks.
Then boxers.
And he doesn’t waste any time in peeling my sundress from my body. Our clothes are covered in dust, strewn all over the floor, and if anyone were to see the ground right now without spotting us, they’d think some kind of bear attack had occurred where we’d been shredded to bits.
“Holy fuck,” I mutter, allowing my eyes to drop down to Evan’s dick that’s standing at attention and pointing right at me. Long and thick. Definitely bigger than anything I’ve ever taken. I lick my lips. “You always gave me big dick energy, but… I’m not sure that’s going to fit.”
“I gave you big dick energy?” Evan chuckles.
“Yeah, to match your personality,” I say, teeth clamping down on my bottom lip. “Fuck, how do you even use that thing?”
“Don't panic, it’ll fit. We’ll make sure it fits.” His gaze sinks. “These fucking tits are perfect, Flo.” One nipple is already in his mouth, the other being pinched and flicked.
I swallow audibly. Like sunlight breaking through a storm, desire rips through me. Desire to have Evan inside me. Filling me. Making me his, even if it’s just for now.