Chapter Eighteen Evan #2
“Moment of weakness, remember?”
“Right.” I click my tongue, stepping into her a little more. I raise my thumb just slightly until the pad of it presses against her plush bottom lip. “And this?”
She blinks rapidly. “This is . . . Yeah . . . This is . . .”
She tries to find the words, and I can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face. I have Scarlett Voss speechless. Again. I truly never thought this day would come. She doesn’t move from my grip. If anything, she leans in closer to my touch.
“Hey, I have a thought.”
She gasps dramatically. “You have those?”
“Funny.” She smiles, and I drag my thumb across the length of her jaw, just barely grazing her skin, feeling the heat radiate off her body. “Are you free February 10th?”
Instead of a simple yes or no, Scarlett asks: “Why?”
“The event in Boston is on that day and if you’re free, you should come along. It’d be a good way to meet other people in the fashion industry.”
Her eyes light up. “And I get to watch you play piano?”
I shrug. “I kinda meant so you could think more about branching out on your own. You wouldn’t be there with Voss, so it would be easier to put yourself out there. But yeah, you can watch me play piano.”
The look of glee that was in her eyes just a second ago slowly fades out, and her teeth sink into her bottom lip. “Didn’t you say you were friends with the guy that runs the event? If he sees that I’m not invited—”
“Don’t worry about that,” I say, the pad of my thumb pressed against her collarbone. I can feel the race of her pulse beneath my skin. “I would love it if you came, Scarlett.”
Her eyes meet mine. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t your dad going to be there? I doubt he wants me there, and if my parents find out that I—”
My thumb travels up the curve of her throat, tapping her chin before it rests on her bottom lip. I forget how to breathe when I look at her like this. I don’t know where to look. I want to look at her everywhere all at once.
My head angles down to hers. “Can you relax for two minutes?”
She shakes her head. “Not really.”
“You’re not nervous, are you, angel?”
“No.”
I grin, whispering something teasing and sweet, before my lips meet hers in a clumsy, perfect rush. Her mouth opens up to me willingly, a soft moan tearing from the back of her throat. I swallow the sound, greedy and desperate for more of it.
She grips on to my tie, pulling me into her as if there’s anywhere left for me to go. I pin her to the bookcase with my hips, sighing when I feel the way her thighs part like she wants more.
Her hands travel up the side of my neck, fingers diving into my hair as she guides my mouth off her.
She hovers her mouth over mine, our eyes locked as if she’s daring me to make a move.
She smiles again, catching my bottom lip between her teeth, biting down on it until my eyes shut with pleasure.
She laughs when she releases it, her voice all raspy, before she goes in again and kisses me.
There aren’t enough words in the English language to describe how it feels to kiss her again. There should be words made up just to describe this feeling. This tight, warm, complete feeling that bubbles up inside me every time we touch.
I kiss her throat, loving the sound that she makes when her head drops back against the shelf, allowing me more access. “I thought you didn’t want to kiss me again,” I whisper.
“I never said that,” she pants.
“No?”
“I said that it was a moment of weakness. There’s a difference.”
I groan into her skin. “Then what’s this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you are my weakness.”
I slip my hand up her skirt, feeling her smooth skin above the top of her stockings. She arches into my touch, whimpering every time my fingers get closer to the cleft of her thighs. I can feel the heat radiating from her center, and I have to stop myself before going too far.
Her fingers twine in my curls as I kiss across her collarbone, the low-cut top she’s wearing granting me access to where I want my mouth the most. The small gasps that leave her mouth just spur me on even more, my lips travelling down the valley of her breasts, gripping on to her hips as I get down on my knees.
Her chest is heaving now as she looks down at me, tilting my head back so I can look at her in her eyes.
Looking up at her like this, I realize this is exactly where I’m meant to be.
I lift the hem of her skirt slightly, just enough to expose her upper thigh, but her hand covers mine. “Evan,” she whispers breathlessly, “not here. Not yet.”
“Okay.” I pause, smoothing out her skirt and standing back up. Panting, I drop my head to her shoulder and her hands smooth across my back. “Okay.”
“I think we should put a pin in . . . this, for now,” she whispers, and I nod, kissing her shoulder.
“You’re right.”
“I just have a lot going on right now. I can’t . . .”
“I know, angel, I know.” She lets out a deep sigh, and I do too. We stay like that for a couple more seconds, catching our breaths, until I eventually step back from her. “Should we finish up our work?”
She clears her throat, her eyes darting to the floor. “I think I’m going to head home, actually.”
I nod, trying not to let it show how much that stings. Still, a tiny piece of me breaks when I watch her walk out the door.