Chapter 14 #3
Evan climbed onto the bed and straddled me, I placed my hands on his hips. He was all hard lines and sculpted muscle. He moved with the agility of a true athlete.
I felt the slickness between my legs grow. Something large and blurry hung between his legs.
“Are you sure you want this—?” he started.
“Yes,” I nearly cried. “Please.”
Evan leaned towards me, dragging his palms slowly up my thigh. He gripped at the soft tissue, his blunt nails dug into my skin. His thumbs drew closer to my core, and he parted me open with a cautious softness. I stifled a moan at his cool fingertips touching the heat coursing inside me.
“Mmm,” he hummed. “Seems you might not last all that long either.”
“T-touch me,” I whined. He gazed at me, through the dark I could see his eyes fixed on mine, the dim warm light caught glints of icy blue. Without breaking eye contact he slid a finger inside me, curling it teasingly while stroking my clit with his thumb.
“Like this?” he asked teasingly.
“Fuck,” I gritted out. “Exactly like that.”
Another finger slid in, then another, and he pumped his hand rhythmically as he braced himself on the bed.
“You’re the first woman I’ve fantasized about seeing like this in years,” he said in a raspy voice hardly above a whisper.
He guided himself into me, his tip breached the space between my flesh. He moved slowly, letting my body familiarize with his. Intertwining the two of us in ways that were getting more and more impossible to unravel.
It was too much, I stared up at the ceiling past him to try to make sense of it all, the feeling of him moving inside me. My body stretching to make room for him, the tightness slipping into something euphoric.
Evan’s hand caught my chin and angled my head back towards him. “Hey,” he exhaled, ragged and raw. “Eyes on me, love.”
My eyes snapped towards him, I could make out the blurred outline of his torso and his face. I could see him bite at his lower lip as his restraint swiftly slipped.
As he filled me to the hilt I wriggled below him, hips twitching. It felt good. He felt good.
Better than good.
“Dani,” he rasped. “My god you feel incredible.”
He pulled himself out, his breath shuddering with each centimeter.
A thrust.
I gasped in shock. His hips rocked back and forth, and I moved my own in the same rhythm.
Evan McLeod was fucking me, and it felt better than I could have ever imagined.
In the show the only glimpses of physicality between the leads were “fade to black” scenes where he pulled Lady Premble into private corridors or hidden stairwells never turned into more than a few teasing words and light touches.
I’d never written out a sex scene with Sir Erwyn in such graphic detail, and I don’t think I ever could.
Something buried deep in my subconscious knew why now.
The sensation of his body on top of mine and the explosions of fireworks that crossed my vision with every thrust couldn’t be put into words. I was living something the English language would never accurately capture.
The precipice was building. Evan’s hand balled into a fist around the sheets, the veins in his arms popping from his skin as he pumped himself faster and faster. Another moan teased at my lips, I was so, so close.
“Attagirl,” he growled. “Finish for me.”
Just as a scream was about to rip out of my throat, Evan’s hand clamped over my mouth, muffling the sound.
Every inhale was heat and pine scented soap and musk.
Fire coursed through me, spiraling in my core like a spinning top.
“Fuck, Evan!” my cry was deafened by his hand as I found myself fluttering around him.
Evan swiftly pulled himself out and reached for the closest piece of dirty laundry, finishing into it.
He collapsed in a heap beside me. I wrapped my arm around him and placed kisses on his bare shoulder as he too came back to earth.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
“For?”
“Letting me do this with you,” Evan turned his head towards me, “it was incredible, you’re incredible.”
A space hung after his statement, one I could have filled with self-deprecating words or claims that I should be the one thanking him for fucking a lowlife normal person like myself, but I didn’t let them come to fruition.
“I’m really, really happy we did,” I said instead, and laid my palm on his cheek, brushing his lower lip with my thumb.
For a few minutes, there was no countdown, no outside world, even no Sue and no Randy. There was us, this bed with its messy sheets, and our slowing breaths.
This is where I wanted to be for the rest of the week, frozen in time next to Evan.
thursday, june 4
I woke up beside Evan McLeod for the second time this week.
The comforter was somewhere on the floor, one of us had thrashed it off in the middle of the night.
My clothes were in a pile somewhere in the corner.
Evan’s hand was cupping my breast beneath his t-shirt that he tossed to me as we were climbing under the covers last night.
Evan Fucking McLeod’s hand was acting as my bra right now.
On an empty stomach my guilt and regret were far more obvious. Not regret about sleeping with Evan, per se. Sleeping with Evan was nothing short of excellent.
I regretted my inability to come completely clean to him. I’d failed at the one thing I was supposed to do to fix all of this. The big lie still loomed over us. He knew more, he accepted more of my fandom. I had peeled away the lacquered layers to expose some of the mess inside and he didn’t run.
I was convinced he didn’t understand it.
“Mmph, love touching you,” he grumbled as he laid next to me. His other hand wrapped tighter around my stomach and pulled me in closer to him. We savored this quiet. I let the word “love” dance around happily in my head.
His chest was solid and warm against my back.
“I want you to come visit me in New York,” he groaned against me.
“Next weekend if you want to.” He said it so casually, like the train tickets were booked and restaurant reservations were me.
“We can give this a spin in the real world. I know how to be invisible there.”
Those visions I’d been trying to suppress resurfaced. Us holding hands walking down a street. Curled up on his couch eating takeout. Getting drinks at a rooftop bar. Real life.
“Okay.” I’d let my imagination run a little while longer.
“Really?” His voice brightened.
I turned to face him, he smiled when he saw me, radiant blue eyes sparkling in the morning sun, his growing beard darkening his chin. The vice grip around my heart tightened. “Yes, really,” I even surprised myself. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to the city”
He mindlessly twirled one of my curls. “So we’ll have to do all the touristy things then. The double decker tour bus, pictures with a crusty mascot in Times Square—”
“You would never go to Times Square,” I laughed. “But we can do whatever you want, even if it’s lounging around your beautiful penthouse suite.”
He huffed a laugh. “You’d be sorely disappointed with my apartment.”
“Why, it’s not a massive penthouse with all marble surfaces and shiny chrome fixtures?”
Evan kissed me instead of answering, giving a breathy laugh against my skin.
“I’m gonna go off and make us some coffee.” I yawned and stretched and sat up on the edge of the bed.
I turned to Evan who was still lounging, a sweet, lazy grin on his face. “You’re so pretty in the morning,” he said quietly.
I leaned over to kiss him, he grabbed my waist and pulled me back into bed. A raucous giggle exploded out of me, shrill and girlish and all of the things I’d been trying to not be.
He buried his face in my hair, his arms wrapped tightly around me. “I don’t want to leave.”
“This bed or camp?” I rhetorically asked.
“Both.” His eyes darkened as he looked at me sadly. “We probably should get up, though, shouldn’t we?”
I nodded. “I need caffeine as soon as possible…and it’ll look suspicious if we’re hiding in here all day.”
“Fine, fine,” he digressed. He planted a chaste kiss on my cheek and I stepped out onto the porch.
The morning was cloudy, a haze of traveling Canadian wildfire smoke had settled itself across the mountains encircling the lake.
Thanks to an abnormally strong southern wind, the sun was clumsily pushing through the smoke, creating tiger stripes of blue across the amber-gray sky.
Small white caps kissed the top of the waves as a chilly breeze blew past.
The lake had changed over the years, much like I had. The coastline eroded slowly but changed nonetheless. Year over year, I grew taller, changed my hair, friends, clothes. Far more jarring than the millimeters of rock whittled away by the waters.
But still, change nonetheless.
This trip with Evan was a garish juxtaposition to every time I’d been here with Nick.
Evan was in tune with me and the surroundings.
I wouldn’t round a corner to see him crouching down, hovered over his phone like a troll protecting a magical rune like Nick used to.
There were no heated words exchanged regarding how we spent the trip and his addiction to his phone.
There was no devolution into fights about the rent, the scent of alcohol that lingered on his clothes, and everything else that seemed to bubble up the moment we raised our voices.
I was spoiled with the opportunity to quietly enjoy this all with Evan.
Nick could never see this place for what it was.
I couldn’t convince him that there was something special about this place, I couldn’t force him to pause for a second and exist in its beauty.
Even now, after twenty some-odd years of summer mornings like this one, there was a rare magic that coursed through the air.
My mind itched with a childlike wonder watching the dock bob in the waves.
The stars at night felt like they were dotted across the sky just for its witnesses.
Every wonderment would result in a “huh, nice” from Nick, and that would be the end.
Evan saw the magic here.