Chapter 26
Anais
It’s been a week since the Maxwell showcase event, the night that changed everything.
The night I experienced what can only be described as the kiss of my life.
It’s also been six days since he stormed my date with the prince, and kissed me like his life depended on it in the back of his town car, before shoving me out when we arrived at my building as if nothing happened. And who said chivalry was dead?
I texted Evan on Sunday, hoping to initiate a conversation. His response? One word.
Me: Are we going to talk about what happened Friday and Saturday? The kisses? You ruining my date?
Evan: No.
And that was the end of that. While I fully intended to confront him on Monday, things didn’t exactly go to plan.
Evan, in true cowardly fashion, avoided me all week.
He even went so far as sending me to work alongside Uncle Christian’s assistant, claiming I’d be more useful upstairs.
Of course this was all done via an impersonal email, not an actual face to face conversation. The audacity only fueled my anger.
What made everything even more confusing about Evan’s behavior was the renovations being carried out in the lobby.
Specifically, the elevator – the one where Evan and I were trapped – is being replaced with a panoramic model.
According to Renee, Christian’s assistant, the Maxwells are modernizing the already contemporary space.
Call me suspicious, but the timing is dubious at best. I had a full-blown panic attack in that elevator, and suddenly it’s being replaced?
A panoramic elevator won’t cure my anxiety, but a view might help.
Still, none of it makes sense. Not him ruining my date.
Not the kisses. Not him ignoring me. Ironically, Fredrik has been calling and messaging nonstop, yet I’ve ignored him because my mind is focused on Evan.
In my heart I know seeing Fredrik isn’t going to go anywhere, so I need to be honest with him and put a stop to whatever he thinks is going to happen.
Now it’s Friday, and I’ve officially had enough of Evan acting like I don’t exist.
I storm down the corridor, grinning when I find Janice gone for the day.
I don’t want an audience when I confront the asshole.
I don’t bother knocking. I push Evan’s door open and walk in, my steps faltering when his icy eyes find mine.
With his phone pressed to his ear, his deep timbre sends a shiver down my spine.
“I know what the god damn piece costs. I don’t care.
” He says, his voice low. His gaze never leaves mine.
“Now if that’s all, I have…something that needs my attention.
” He ends the call, and places his phone down on his desk.
The silence stretches between us, the air turning thick, suffocating.
I shift on my feet, suddenly uncertain. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“If you barge in here without permission again, I’ll show you exactly what happens to insolent brats. ”
My cheeks burn, as anger flares inside me. I count to five. I came here with a purpose and intend to see it through. I won’t be intimidated.
Clearing my throat, I lift my chin, conveying a confidence I don’t feel. His eyes narrow. Then I speak. “Are we going to talk about what happened last week?”
For a brief second, he looks taken aback by my question. His expression flickers, nostrils flare, jaw clenches, but then the mask returns. Cold. Indifferent. “No.”
Just like the message. One word, leaving no room for argument.
But clearly, he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.
I’ve always been tenacious. He’s going to hear me out, whether he likes it or not.
I close the distance between us, placing my palms on his desk, my gaze narrowing.
“Yes, we damn well are. Was the kiss that life changing, it turned you into a coward?” I know I’m taunting him, but he clearly needs to be pushed.
“You. Kissed. Me.” I enunciate every word, reminding him that he initiated the kiss and it wasn’t because I was having an anxiety attack.
“You can gaslight me all you like, but I know the truth.”
With indifference he reaches up, running a hand through his dark hair. He cocks his head, eyeing me like I’m something beneath his shoe. But no matter what he throws my way, I won’t back down.
With his gaze on me, he rises from his chair, adjusting his tie. My eyes track his every move, narrowing when he speaks. “Well, this has been fun,” he drawls, voice filled with sarcasm. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have a date tonight.”
My stomach twists in pain, and I swear I hear my heart breaking.
He rounds his desk, heading for the door.
“You don’t get to do this to me!” I scream.
My voice cracks, I’m hysterical, desperate, but right now I don’t care.
I’m done pretending. Evan freezes, his body tensing.
I take a tentative step toward him. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I stare at his muscular back when I speak.
“You kissed me,” I repeat. “It meant something. You know it. I know it. Just–”
I’m cut off when he swings around to face me. His icy eyes are wild, and if it were anyone else, I’d be scared. “It meant nothing,” he spits. “It was a lapse in judgement. Nothing more.”
I reel back, a bitter laugh bursting from my lips.
I prod him in the chest. “Lapse in judgment? Both times?” I mock.
“You’re such an asshole. You call me delusional, Evan, but you’re the one living in a fantasy world, where you like to pretend I don’t exist.” My breath hitches, my emotions getting the better of me.
“But I do. I exist, and you,” I jab him harder. “You care.”
His gaze darkens. Before I can grasp what’s happening, I’m backed into a wall and being caged by his arms. My breath hitches. His jaw tics. His body is close, too close, and electricity crackles between us. Palpable. Real.
“I. Don’t. Care. About. You. Anais.” He grates out, enunciating every word as if I’m hard of hearing.
I would believe the words, but his eyes betray him.
I might not have much experience with men, but I see it.
The desire. The want. The need. “What will it take for you to accept that, huh?” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Jesus Christ, you were on a date with another man on Saturday.” He bites out and I note the bitterness in his tone.
“A date you ruined.” I remind him. “What will it take to make you admit the truth?”
“What truth?” he laughs humorlessly.
My eyes narrow. If he won’t admit the truth, he can answer another question.
“The elevator.” I blurt. “Why a panoramic one?”
His eyes narrow, jaw tightens. “None of your business, Brat.”
My laugh is humorless. “Convenient don’t you think?” My brows raise in challenge. “I have an anxiety attack and not a week later, boom, you’re having a new elevator installed.”
Evan cocks his head. “What can I say? I fancied a view while riding to my floor.” He drawls.
“Liar,” I hiss.
“Watch your mouth,” he warns, his voice a growl.
I smirk, my lips parting with a retort, but I never get the chance.
Because Evan smashes his mouth to mine in a kiss that steals my breath.
Evan’s hands cup my face, angling it where he wants.
His tongue prods at my lips seeking entrance, and I give it.
How could I not? Evan’s touch is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He consumes me. Owns me.
“Evan,” I whimper against his mouth, clutching at his shirt, wanting, no, needing, him closer.
Evan pulls back, trailing kisses to the corner of my mouth, my chin, my cheeks, my eyelids, my nose. It’s tender, intimate. So at odds with the tension rolling off him. Butterflies take flight in my stomach. And in this moment, I fall deeper.
“Fuck,” he groans, lips returning to mine.
This time I’m ready for it. My hands trail up his chest, before wrapping around his neck, and pulling him closer. I feel so small pressed against him, but I can’t deny it’s a turn on. His big to my small. Evan is easily 6’4 while I’m 5’5.
His hands trail down my sides, gripping my thighs, and suddenly I’m lifted, pinned against the wall, legs wrapped around his tapered waist. I bite down on my bottom lip.
He nips the swollen flesh, and sucks it into his mouth, his tongue soothing the sting.
And when his hips roll into me, I gasp, my eyes popping wide.
He’s hard for me.
Evan Maxwell is hard for me.
My jaw slackens, my kisses faltering, and sensing it, he pulls back, his desire filled gaze, locking on me.
“Evan,” I breathe.
He groans, kissing me again, his hands slipping beneath my skirt. His fingers trace the edges of my thong, and when he dips a finger beneath the silk, running it slowly down my bare skin, I moan.
“Fuck,” he growls, pulling back to look at me.
He pauses his ministrations, his eyes on mine, silently asking for permission.
I open my mouth to speak, but the desire seems to have gone to my head and turned me mute, so I nod my consent.
“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re soaked. Is this for me?
” I nod again, breathless. He groans, his head dropping to the crook of my neck.
He inhales deeply, like I’m the air he needs to breath.
I shiver, my heart hammering in my chest. He runs a finger slowly from my clit down to my slit.
No man has ever touched me down there and the fact that it’s Evan, means everything to me.
He circles my hole, once, twice, and arousal leaks from me.
I don’t know whether I should be embarrassed but, from the rumbling of his chest, I assume he likes it, and that gives me confidence.
I grind against him, just as he pushes a finger inside me.
I tense. Evan freezes. One beat passes, then another.
And for a moment I think he might stop. But then he groans, biting down on my neck as he slides his finger in and out of me.
“Christ, you’re tight,” he mutters.
“Don’t stop,” I whimper, riding his finger like my life depends on it.
“Not a fucking chance,” he grates out, pushing another digit inside me.
He licks a trail up my neck, and I shudder.
He stretches me out, and the heavy weight of desire settles low in my stomach.
Evan pumps into me, his thumb caressing my clit.
I ride his fingers, chasing my release. My head drops to his shoulder, legs shake, and I bite into his neck, feeling an orgasm take hold.
“Evan,” I moan around a mouthful of skin.
His hot breath hits my ear, and when he speaks, his voice is low, sensual, and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard. “Come for me, Brat.”
His command is my undoing. My body convulses, my climax washing over every inch of my twitching body. I slump against him, boneless and dazed as I snuggle into him. I smile, feeling content, happy, relaxed, satisfied, sleepy.
Evan holds me for a moment, but then he pulls back, forcing me to lift my head.
His tongue runs across his bottom lip, his eyes searching my face.
His mouth parts, and I wait with bated breath for him to speak, to acknowledge what just happened.
But it never comes. He slips his fingers from my pussy, untangles me from his body, and sets me on my feet.
He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair.
“This should’ve never happened,” he mutters, then quickly leaves.
The door clicks shut behind him.
Rejection hits me and I slide down the wall, trembling. Hurt. Confused. My mind is in overdrive as I mentally go over what happened. A smile curls my lips.
Because two things become crystal clear.
I am not the delusional little brat Evan thinks I am.
And as much as he is trying to fight it…
That sexy, stubborn, infuriating asshole wants me.