The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (158 page)

“Of course,” I agree, not sure where he’s going with this discussion.

“Then I’ll just come right out and say it.  I want you to come home.  I can’t deal with everything that’s happening when all I can think about is you.  I’m anxious, I can’t concentrate, and I’m tired of being impatient with everyone all the time.  Besides, I sleep better with you in bed beside me.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask warily.  Evan nods.  “We could start out slowly.  I could stay in the spare room for the first few nights if you prefer.”

“If anyone is staying in the spare room, it’ll be me,” Evan states plainly.  “I’ve been sleeping there a lot lately.”

“Really?  Why?”  I can’t imagine why he’d want to stay in that tiny room on that small bed when he doesn’t have to.

“It’s where your things are.  I felt like I had a little bit of you there with me at night.  It’s been the only place I could get any sleep at all.”

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him.  “If I’d just talked to you from the very start, none of this would have happened.”

“We might have avoided all this heartache,” he mutters. 

“Oh, Evan.  I love you so much.”  Desire explodes throughout my body like the Fourth of July, and I pull him down to my lips so I can kiss him, my hands knotting in his hair, pulling, twisting. I pour all the angst and heartbreak of the last few days into our kiss, binding him to me, and it hits me, in this moment of blinding passion – he’s doing the same, he feels the same.

He breaks off the kiss, breathless. His eyes are burning with desire, firing the already heated blood that’s pounding through my body.  “Let’s go home,” he snarls.

I nod in agreement, and in the blink of an eye Evan is up on his feet, dragging me out of the booth.  He looks down at me with hooded eyes and warns, “You have one minute to get your things and say goodnight.  I’m taking you home.  Now.”

Looking up at him, I’m momentarily stunned.  He wants to take me home.  I know I don’t deserve this joy, but when it comes to Evan, I’m greedy. 

As quickly as I can, I hurry past Emmy, race to the back, and grab the few things I need to take home for the night.  Emmy tries to stop me on my way back to Evan.  “Jette, wait!  Where are you going?”

Evan meets me halfway, takes me by the hand, and leads me toward the front door.  As we weave our way through the tables, passing by counting smiling faces, he calls back to her, “I’m taking her home.”

“Be good!” Emmy calls after us, giggling with delight.  “But if you can’t be good, be careful!”

We barely make it outside the restaurant before Evan pulls me to him and kisses me so wickedly that my stomach flip-flops with desire.  There’s no doubt what’s on his mind as he reaches for my hand and practically drags me to his car. “We’ll pick up your car tomorrow,” he announces as he opens the door for me and I climb inside.

Soon enough, we’re speeding toward the beach house.  I can’t help but stare at him as he drives with such ease and comfort.  He has light stubble over his chin, and my fingers itch to scratch it and feel it against my face.  His hand reaches over for mine and he laces our fingers together.  He brings my hand up to his mouth and gently presses his lips against my ring before placing my hand squarely on his heart.  I can feel his heart beating steadily beneath his shirt, and any uncertainty I had about his feelings are lessened with each beat.

Once home, Evan opens the door to usher me inside.  After setting the alarm, he turns around and simultaneously we lunge for each other, tongues and lips desperately and urgently colliding. 

Like a bolt from the blue, Evan sweeps me into his arms and backs me up against a wall.  I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling his body tightly against mine.  He takes my hands and pinions them above my head, holding my wrists tightly in place.  He traps me beneath him, the hard curves of his body pushing against me while he continues to violate my mouth with his explosive kisses.

His free hand travels across my thigh and up my skirt, skimming the soft silk of my panties.  I can’t stop myself from grinding against him, feeling his hardness pushing against me in just the right places.  Desire to feel his flesh against mine burns through me, and I tear my wrists from his strong grasp and begin to unbutton his shirt.

“I missed you so much,” he moans against my mouth.  “So fucking much.”

Feelings I’ve long suppressed came crashing over me like waves on the ocean.  The feelings of want, of need, and of belonging wash over me, one after another in rapid succession.  I’m caught in a riptide of emotions so intense, I feel as if they might pull me under.

“I thought I’d lost you,” I whimper against his neck, sliding my tongue up to his ear.  Evan is all I crave, all I desire, and the only thing I fear is that I won’t be able to get enough of him.

I place my hands under his shirt, pushing it aside so I can begin exploring.  Slowly, I rake my fingernails across his chest and back.  He tenses beneath my touch and I can feel his muscles stretch and flex as he holds me in place.

He throws his head back and releases a soft moan as my hands travel across flesh, urging me on, stoking the flame.  A deep yearning blazes through me as I feverishly struggle to unbuckle his belt. 

Evan rips open my blouse, sending buttons flying across the room.  The rush of cold air shocks my senses.  I can feel my breasts hardening into firm peaks, pressing against the lace of my bra.  I feel his hand on me, tugging on the cup, freeing my full and heavy breast. He applies the perfect amount of pressure as he rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, creating the most intense feelings of pain and pleasure.

All I can think about is how badly I need to complete that physical connection to him.  I tangle my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and work my way up, getting the exact response I was hoping for.  Evan places his hands under my bottom and lifts me higher so I have better access to him.  My bare breast is pressed against his and my skin tingles, ignited by the heat of our flesh.  He closes his eyes and releases a slow, deep sigh, and I am enraptured. 

I grind my hips against him as he thrusts against me.  The thin fabric of my panties is soaked with desire.  The fabric of his pants is stretched, barely containing the fullness of his erection.

In the frenzy that follows, clothes go flying in every direction, leaving us breathless and desperate for the other.  “I need to feel you inside me right now, Evan, please,” I beg.

I don’t have to ask twice.  In one swift motion, he raises me higher, and then pulls me down onto him.  The feeling of fullness and of completeness overwhelms me, and I thrust my head back against the wall.  I throw my arms around his neck and arch my back as he plunges inside me again, filling me to the hilt.

I tighten my legs around his waist as he continues to slam into me.  Our chests rise and fall together with every shallow breath we take.  He turns to look at me, locking his bright blue eyes with mine before he claims my mouth again.  My tongue joins his in a slow, erotic dance that’s all about touch and sensation.  He pulls back, and then moves into me again, slowly this time. I close my eyes and groan, relishing the feel of him inside me. 

“You’re never leaving again,” he murmurs against my throat. 

“Never,” I pant, surrendering myself to his relentless rhythm, savoring each push and pull, his ragged breathing, his need for me.  

I feel powerful, strong, desired, and loved – loved by this amazing man, whom I love with all my heart. He pushes harder and faster, his breathing ragged, losing himself in me as I lose myself in him.

“Oh, baby,” Evan moans, his teeth grazing my jaw, and I come hard around him. He stills, clutches me, and follows suit, whispering my name. 

As ripples of pleasure continue to flow through my body, Evan scoops me up and carries me curled against his chest to our room down the hall, where I haven’t slept in nearly two weeks. My head drops against his chest. I am mentally and physically exhausted. I don’t remember ever being this tired. Pulling back the duvet, he lays me down, climbs in beside me, and holds me close. “Sleep now,” he whispers and kisses my hair. “You’re home.”

Moment of Truth

W
hen I wake before the alarm the following morning, Evan is wrapped around me like ivy, his head on my chest, his arm around my waist, and his leg between mine. Gently, I stroke the few hairs on his firm chest.  He stirs and his sleepy eyes meet mine. He blinks a couple of times as he wakes. 

“Hi,” he murmurs, and smiles.

“Hi.” I love waking to that smile.

He nuzzles my neck and hums appreciatively deep in his throat. His hand travels under the cotton sheets and skims along the curve of my hip.

“I would love to stay and play,” he mutters. “But as tempting as you are,” he glances at the alarm, “I have to get up.” He stretches out, untangles himself from me, and rises.

I lie back, put my hands behind my head, and enjoy the show. Evan stands at the foot of the bed, stark naked.  He is perfect. I wouldn’t change a hair on his head.

“Admiring the view, Miss Fletcher?” Evan arches a sarcastic brow at me.

“It’s a mighty fine view, Mr. McGuire.” 

After a quick hot breakfast of oatmeal and fresh fruit, Evan’s off to the stadium for practice.  Derek and I are opening together in a few hours, so I’ll wait until a respectable hour to call him and ask for a ride. 

It doesn’t take me long to move my things from the spare room back into the closet and dresser.  Everything is exactly as I left it.  I occasionally peek out the window to check on Derek’s house, looking for signs of life.  By eight o’clock, it remains dark and quiet.

I take Maddy outside for her morning constitutional and find the weather to be quite mild for January, so I decide to take advantage and head out for a beach run.  I check the tide reports, and right about now it’s low tide, so the sand near the surf should be hard and firm.

On a day like today, not many layers are necessary, so I dress quickly and get Maddy’s leash.  The moment she spots me with a leash in hand, she hurries to the door and sits excitedly, tail wagging furiously, waiting for me to take her out.

The beach is peppered with occasional fisherman, eager, like me, to spend some welcome time outdoors on an unseasonably warm winter morning.  I recognize a few and greet each with an enthusiastic, “Good morning.”  There are no other runners on the beach today, so I get to enjoy the relative peace and solitude.

Running affords me an opportunity to be alone with my thoughts or to unplug entirely.  The choice is mine.  I have had to make so many decisions lately, I feel as if my mind has been in overdrive, most likely because it has been.  Revisiting every decision I’ve made and analyzing every move I make forging ahead has exhausted me more than any amount of physical activity ever could.

Today I will unplug.

I select a playlist I know by heart that lasts about thirty minutes and contains exactly eight songs.  I plug in my earbuds, strap on my iPod, and head out.  I have an eclectic mix of all kinds of music, with selections from some of my favs – a reggae hit from the Canadian band Magic, a platinum single from Norwegian duo Nico & Vinz, and a little county music from Lady Antebellum.

My mind is clear and easy as I enjoy my beach run.  As I jog along a bed of crushed seashells, the tide ebbs and flows carelessly while the light wind carries a mist through the air.  The sand beneath my feet glitters brightly in the early morning sunlight.

Gone are the brilliant specks of umbrellas that dot the seashore during the summertime. Gone are the sand castles and buckets and children playing happily along the shore.  This wintertime beach is mine and mine alone.

But also mine is Rush Dessert Bar and Restaurant, and duty calls.  It’s time to return home, shower, and call my neighbor for a ride.

I enter the house through the sliding glass door and immediately I’m startled by an incessant banging on the front door.  Keeping Maddy at my side, I walk through the house to the door and peek out the window.  There’s a police cruiser in my driveway.  “Point Pleasant Police,” they bark through the door.

Panic takes over and I can feel my pulse racing.  This can’t be good.  My first instinct is to call Evan, but more importantly, I have to call Gavin.  The police continue to pound on the door and call me by name.  My hands are shaking, but somehow I manage to find Gavin’s number.  “Hello, Juliette.  I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today.”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to have the police banging on my front door.  What do I do?” I ask nervously.

“Answer the door.  If they want to come in to speak with you, don’t invite them.  If they ask you to come down to the station, tell them to call me.  If they tell you that you’re under arrest, cooperate.  If I don’t hear back from you in exactly five minutes, I’ll meet you at the station.  Do you understand?”

“Under arrest?” I ask.  The words frighten me beyond explanation.

“Hang up and go see what they want.  I’ll be there if you need me.  Remember, you tell them nothing.  You say nothing.  You agree to nothing.  Got it?”