The Chase (19 page)

“They need spotters on the radio like we have.” Evan smiled and leaned over and stole one of her fries.

“Why are you taking my fries? You have your own.”

“Yours taste better.”

She let an eye roll go. “You’re ridiculous.” And cute.

Damn it, why was he so cute? Why did he have those luscious brown eyes and sexy little dimples? It wasn’t fair. It made her want things she couldn’t have.

Especially when he leaned over and gave her a kiss on her forehead. A sweet, smacking kiss that was not sexual and yet totally made her toes curl from the sincerity of it. They really were blurring the lines here between just sex and something else entirely.

“Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if we hadn’t broken up?” Evan asked her.

Apparently his thoughts had been going in the exact same direction.

“No,” she lied.

“Liar.”

Damn it. “Fine, I’m lying. Of course I wondered about it after we broke up. I missed you, stupid.”

“You should really hold back on complimenting me so much. I might get a big head.” Evan glanced down at his boxers. “Well, a second big head.”

“See, this is what happens when we try to have a serious conversation. I insult you and you turn it sexual. We have a pattern, you know.”

She thought he would answer with a joke, but Evan set his sandwich down on his plate and leaned towards her. His expression was serious, eyes searching.

“I don’t think we have a pattern so much as a fear of showing our real emotions.”

Oh, God, he was serious. And he was right.

“Maybe the problem is, I don’t know what my real emotions are.”

“Fair enough. I guess I don’t really know mine either. But I did then. Ten years ago.” Evan gave her a fleeting smile. “I was going to ask you to marry me, you know.”

The fry she’d been holding up to her mouth fell out of her fingers as she stared at him in shock. “What?”

“Yep. I had a ring bought and everything. I was going to ask you on your nineteenth birthday.”

Kendall sucked air in and out, desperate to fight the tears that were crowding her eyelids and threatening to spring out. Evan had been planning to propose to her? He’d bought a ring? She tried to comprehend what that meant in the grand scheme of things . . . It meant he had really, truly loved her. Had intended to spend his life with her. Or at least he had with the optimism of nineteen. Who knows what really would have happened?

But he had loved her. No question of that.

“I don’t know what to say . . . I had no idea.”

“Say that you would have said yes.”

She nodded, without hesitation. “Yes. I would have said yes. No doubt about it.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a minute, the emotion in Evan’s dark and lusty and raw.

Then suddenly they were grabbing for each other, falling over plates of food as they fought to get their lips on each other. Their kiss was a collision, chests together, arms grappling, mouths angling for a deeper, all-consuming touch.

Kendall wouldn’t have thought it was possible to be so hot for him again so soon, but she was even more so. Now it was physical and emotional, an explosive cocktail of desire, her tongue desperately sweeping across his. The thought that this man had wanted to marry her, spend his life with her, was possibly the hottest thing she’d ever heard.

His tongue mated with hers, and then he bit her lip, tugging it with just enough force to send a jolt of ecstasy to her inner thighs. Her nipples were tight and aching beneath her T-shirt, and she had managed to maneuver her legs on either side of his and now shamelessly rubbed against him.

Evan yanked her head back with her hair, breathing frantically, and kissed her neck, his desperate desire driving her own. Before she could even really react, he had tossed her back onto the bed, the French fries flying in all directions as a plate tumbled to the floor.

Neither of them paused, the mess wasn’t acknowledged in any way, and they were back at it instantly, making out with all the fervor of teens on curfew, with the added kick of being full-fledged adults with hands that knew exactly how to move on each other. Kendall had hers in Evan’s boxers, stroking him with the stickiness of his obvious arousal. He had his hands in her panties, moving inside her with a similar intensity.

“Roll on top of me,” he panted. “I want to feel you move on me.”

When they rolled, still connected by mouth, Kendall kicked the remaining plate, but it didn’t slow her down. Once on Evan’s body, she spread her legs and mimicked sex, their mouths tangling and teasing and pressing. It was old school—the clothes still somewhat on, the hands in each other’s hair, their bodies moving together but stopping short of that ultimate connection—but that’s what made it even hotter. This was about the kiss, the wanting of each other, not just their bodies.

It should have scared her, but there was no thought in her head other than that she wanted him. Always had. Probably always would. Even when she had convinced herself she hated him, she had still wanted him.

He had loved her.

She had loved him.

And they, mostly her, had destroyed that.

Now she wanted to dig her fingers into his flesh, take him into her body, hold on to him in the only way she could, for right now, here, in this room, this night.

He flipped her onto her back, and then she was shoving his boxers down, he was tugging her panties past her thighs. Evan grabbed her leg and put her ankle on his shoulder. Then he was inside her with a hard thrust that pushed the air right out of her lungs.

“Oh, God.” She grabbed his arms and held on as he went deep inside her, again and again.

Her fingers dug blindly into his bicep muscles, and her head jerked upward with each desperate plunge inside her hot, moist body. It was acute pleasure, almost painful in its overwhelming intensity, his teeth gritted, eyes locked with hers. Her ankle bounced on his shoulder, their bodies connecting as deeply and tightly as was possible at their most intimate and sensitive spot.

“Kendall.”

It almost sounded like a question, like he wanted to say something to her. “Yes?” she asked, struggling to focus, her back arching, her nipples taut against her T-shirt as it moved with her body. She bit her bottom lip, losing focus on his as she careened into ecstasy, her orgasm hitting her with the force of a tsunami.

“Come for me, baby,” he urged, his words followed by a deep, throaty groan.

“I am, I am.” She was—a wild, clawing, surreal explosion of pleasure on Evan, under him, with him.

He came, too, their moans blending together as easily as their bodies, a crashing erotic burst of pleasure, bodies, voices, and hearts.

She clung to him, stunned, blinking and forcing herself to breathe as her inner muscles vibrated with tiny aftershocks of pleasure.

That was . . . she didn’t even know.

Something she had never experienced, free and elemental and totally in her body, yet somehow totally out of it.

“I . . .”

She hadn’t even intended to speak, so she wasn’t sure what she was trying to say. Evan had the same stunned look on his face she imagined she was sporting.

“That was insanely good,” he said, pulling her ankle off his shoulder and moving her leg back down onto the bed.

Which was good because Kendall realized it was trembling a little from the position. She sat in a race car for four hours straight yet couldn’t handle five minutes with her leg in the air? Also suddenly aware of a pinching sensation on her back, Kendall shifted slightly. “Something’s stabbing me.”

“It’s a fork.”

“Well that explains that.” Kendall grinned up at him.

“Why did they even give us silverware? We had a burger and a sandwich.”

“They come rolled in the napkins.”

“Are you okay?” He turned her onto her side and massaged her back.

Kendall felt more than okay. She felt punch drunk. “I’m fantastic.” She felt boneless and satisfied and goofy, inflated with emotions she had no intention of examining. She was just going to enjoy the high.

When he let her go, she flopped back, unable to hold herself up.

Evan laughed. “You look loopy and adorable.” He leaned down and kissed her, a quick, hard smack.

“You have ketchup on your arm,” she told him, seeing a long red streak from his elbow to his wrist.

“Damn.” He glanced down at it. “I sure do. And the bed is wrecked.”

It was. They both peeled themselves up off the mattress and into a sitting position. Kendall realized she actually had a pickle slice stuck to her thigh. She flung it onto the tray. There were French fries everywhere, and her burger had tumbled to the floor, leaving a trail of ketchup and mustard behind it. Evan had ketchup on his stomach as well as his arm, which struck her as hilarious.

“We’re going to have to tip the maid really well,” he said, using a napkin to swipe at his gut.

Kendall just laughed. Plucking a fry off the bed, she dipped it in the ketchup on Evan’s arm and stuck it up to his mouth as a joke. But he actually ate it, pulling the whole thing into his mouth.

He made a face. “Cold.”

Which made her laugh even harder. Pulling her T-shirt down as far as it would go, attempting to cover her bare butt, Kendall started gathering the fries and sandwich guts, brushing them off the bed and onto the tray.

“Worry about that later,” he told her. “Let’s go wash the stickiness off in the shower.”

While the thought of him wet and soapy held a great deal of appeal, Kendall was also very logical. “If we finish the job now we won’t get sticky all over again.” She held up a smushed tomato slice to prove it. “Dang, what happened to your sandwich? It’s all over the place.”

“I think I stuck my knee in it.” Evan held up his leg and sure enough, there was a slimey sheen on it.

They both laughed, and Kendall felt something inflating inside her—pure happiness. When Evan reached for her and wrapped her in his arms for a tender kiss, it felt normal and right and sweet.

“Come to the shower. This mess is as cleaned up as it’s going to be.”

When Kendall smiled and gave in to him, taking his hand and pulling him towards the bathroom, Evan refused to label the feelings that were rattling around inside him. Or maybe more like they were crawling up his throat, threatening to burst out of his mouth.

He hadn’t intended to tell Kendall about buying a ring, meaning to propose to her all those years ago, but it had just popped out, and the look on her face . . . well, he was glad he had. He’d seen her eyes melt, seen a glimmer of that love she had worn so blatantly for him when they were young. It had been intensely satisfying, and arousing.

Which is why they’d wound up having killer sex on top of their dinner five seconds later.

When they got in the bathroom and he saw the soaking tub, Evan changed his mind. “Hey, let’s take a bath. I’m sure they have bubble crap and stuff. We can just relax and soak.”

Kendall looked sleepy and satisfied. She actually made a low sigh of approval, like she thought the idea was delicious. “Sounds good.” Turning to the counter, she added, “And yes, they have bubble crap here. Though I think they’re called bath beads.”

“Whatever.” Evan leaned over and started up the water, holding his fingers under it until the temperature was just right. “Hand me some.”

“Here.” She gave him the bottle of beads, then said, “And then you need to step out for a second.”

“Why?”

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“You can take a leak in front of me.”

“Actually, I can’t.”

Evan dumped half the bottle of beads into the large tub and pondered the mysteries of women. He was fairly certain he’d piss in front of anyone. But he wasn’t going to argue. “Alright. Don’t let the water overflow.”

“How long do you think it’s going to take me?”

“I don’t know! First you use the toilet, then you wash your hands, then you decide to brush your teeth, then tweeze your eyebrows, then inspect your face because you’re sure you have a zit starting, then put lotion on your feet . . . and the next thing you know there’s water on the floor and I’ve died of boredom in the other room.”

“It sounds like this has happened to you before.”

Maybe once or twice. “I know women.”

Kendall put her hand on his chest. “Out of the bathroom. And don’t you dare fall asleep and leave me alone in this warm tub with nothing to do.”

That sounded intriguing. “I’m sure you could find something to do.”

“Playing with a friend is always better.” As she spoke, her tongue came out and slid from one corner of her lip to the other.

Evan felt a jolt of lust. “Good call. Hurry.”

Then he let the bathroom and paced back and forth with an erection. Deciding that wasn’t helping the situation, he grabbed his phone off the desk and checked it. Three missed calls from Eve, plus two texts saying he needed to call her immediately.

Not.

Reality could wait just a few more hours. Right now, he was enjoying all this time with Kendall. It wasn’t likely he’d get to do this again anytime soon. If ever.

Which really sucked when he thought about it.

“You can come in,” she called, the door popping open.

Thank God. She was saving him from getting morose.

When he strolled—okay, maybe rushed—into the bathroom, Kendall was already in the tub, bubbles up to her chin. He was a little disappointed he couldn’t see a single part of her body. Even her hands on the sides of the tub were loaded with suds.

“I think you might have been a little heavy-handed with the bath beads,” she told him.

Considering that when she shifted, she had a bubble beard, he had to agree with her. “There weren’t directions.”

“Actually, there were. You just didn’t read them. It said to add three beads. How many did you use?”