Davy and Evelyn barely made it inside his bar before falling into each other’s arms. He kicked the door shut, swept her off her feet and deposited her on the counter. She parted her thighs and he stepped between them, turning his face up to her. His heart thumped wildly, pumping fire through his veins, his dick already hard. Evelyn’s big brown eyes locked on his, and he could read the desire in them.
He couldn’t believe this was happening. He was getting a do-over with this sexy goddess. She could have any guy she wanted with a crook of her finger, but she was here with him. He was under no illusion that they’d have anything more than one night together, but if that was all she could give, he’d take it. Hell, if she asked, he’d probably offer up his heart for her to stomp on all over again.
One of his arms curved around her waist, and the other hand cupped the line of her jaw. He hovered, mere millimeters from her mouth, feeling as though he were suspended above a thousand-foot drop. As though everything depended on what he did next. The anticipation of the kiss, the tortured bliss of waiting while they exchanged breath, almost did his head in.
But then their lips were touching. He hadn’t kissed her, so she’d kissed him.
It was perfect.
Their lips clung, then separated, and the breath eased from his chest. She gripped his face between her palms and shimmied to the edge of the counter so they touched in all the best places.
This time, he took the initiative. He kissed her the way he remembered she liked, soft and unhurried. Her lips parted for him, and the kiss deepened. He clasped her tighter, one hand splayed over her hip and the other on her ass. She tasted like summer, and the forbidden, and he couldn’t get enough.
Pulling back, he panted, “You sure?”
“One hundred per cent,” she said, nuzzling beneath his ear, then touching his ear lobe with the tip of her tongue. “But…”
“But?” he croaked, keeping a tenuous hold of his self-control.
“But I want you to know, this means—”
“I know what it means,” he interrupted. Nothing, at least as far as she was concerned, and he wasn’t about to humiliate himself by begging for scraps of her affection “Don’t suppose you’ve got a condom on you?”
She shook her head.
“Damn. Guess we’ll have to drag ourselves upstairs.”
Evie was short of breath as she ascended the stairs to Davy’s home and waited while he unlocked the door. She couldn’t believe how much he’d leveled up in the kissing game since they were sixteen. He was blowing her mind. Once inside, she pressed him into the door and leapt up, wrapping her legs around his waist. Behind his sports shorts, his cock pulsed against her.
She grinned as an answering throb started between her legs. “Someone’s a little excited.”
“Have to be dead not to be,” he said. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever touched, and shite, the way you rub yourself against me drives me insane.”
That’s how she wanted it. As long as they were together in the insanity, all was right with the world.
Davy’s forehead rested on hers, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the lines of his face made harsh by passion. She loved to see him this way. All need. No sign of his joker persona. She fused her mouth to his, tearing a low groan from him.
Fuck, yeah, she loved the sound of that. Like he was helpless, enraptured by her. Tugging the hem of his shirt, she broke away to yank it over his head, then tossed her own aside, too.
They slid against each other, skin on skin. Exquisite. She ran her hands along the tops of his broad shoulders and down his arms, which were tan in contrast to the paleness of his chest and shoulders. He buried his face in her exposed cleavage, his tongue delving into the space between, then tracing the edge of her bra. Pleasure shot through her as his hand came up to cup her breast. He dropped an open-mouthed kiss on the top and moaned in appreciation.
“These are perfect,” he said. “God, I didn’t think you could get any sexier, but you did. Take the bra off.”
“Patience,” she teased, her heels digging into his butt. His hips jerked towards her. “Oh yeah, just like that.”
“You’re gonna be the end of me,” he murmured. “Death by heart failure, age twenty-eight.”
“You poor baby.” She pouted. “You’re seducing me with your words.” Strangely enough, he actually was. Most men adored her body—she was used to it—but his particular brand of humor flattered her more than any pretty words could.
“Hold tight, sweetheart,” he said, then he was carrying her to the living room, where he lowered her gently to the couch and settled between her legs. The room was dim, but they’d forgotten to switch off the Christmas lights earlier and dozens of stars twinkled around them, casting pinpricks of light and shadows that danced over their bodies.
Reaching behind her, Evie flicked the clasp of her bra open and dropped it to the floor. Davy’s gaze homed in on her naked breasts, then he molded his palms to them and stroked and caressed with a single-mindedness she found astoundingly attractive. The whole time, his eyes never left hers. He watched her watching him, interpreting what she liked and what she didn’t from the play of expressions across her face. It was the single most erotic act she’d ever been involved in.
Damn, boy.
When she was desperate for more, she writhed beneath him, creating sweet friction between their bodies, and slipped one hand into the waistband of his shorts, wrapping her fingers around him.
“Mmm.” He pumped his hips, thrusting into her hand.
“I love the sounds you make.” She slicked the moisture at his head over the silken length and glided up and down. “Don’t stop making those sounds.”
He uttered a strangled gasp. “Don’t think I could if I wanted. Feels goddamn fantastic.”
“Good,” she muttered. “I want you bad.”
Rising on one elbow, he drew her leggings and underwear down and touched her gently. “Are you ready for me?”
“Check for yourself.”
His finger slid between her folds, and when he discovered how wet she was, his eyes flicked to hers. “Oh, hell. You do want me bad, don’t you, sweetheart?”
“Like I said, so get a move on.”
“Patience.” He sheathed himself, then eased his tip inside her in increments, rocking forward an inch at a time.
“Davy,” she growled in warning.
In one smooth movement, he pushed all the way home, lodging deep inside her with a satisfied grunt.
Breath hissed between her lips. “Fuck.”
Davy froze. “Good or bad?” he asked. “Do I need to stop?”
“Good,” she said. “Don’t you dare stop or I’ll kick your ass.”
She heard him exhale in relief, but then she was too absorbed by the way he moved to notice anything else. She drew one of her knees up, opening herself to him, and he took advantage of the movement to thrust even deeper with long, steady strokes that had her whimpering and clutching his back.
Turning her face into his, she latched onto his lips and kissed him like it was the last time she’d ever taste a man. He groaned again, and the sound of sex filled the air. Wet slapping, panting, thumping. The noises he made had her hotter than she’d ever been, and the wilder she got, the more he moaned and grunted and sighed. She’d never craved release so desperately while also wanting a moment to go on and on and on.
Davy raised himself up, and she looked down at the place where the two of them joined, him sliding into her and withdrawing, then slamming back in again. His pale hips met her bronzed stomach, the contrast delicious.
“Oh, god,” she gasped, overwhelmed by the sight.
“So hot.” He dipped his head to suck her nipple.
She came with a violent shudder, the orgasm washing over her in waves, the intensity easing, then returning with a vengeance until all she could do was hold onto his shoulders and wonder if she’d ever feel so complete again in her life. His hands tucked beneath her body and lifted her to him. He pushed into her one more time and shouted her name as he jerked and twitched inside her. They collapsed in a blissful tangle of limbs.