The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (87 page)

D
riving to the beach house in my new car is a joy.  It actually has ventilated seats that keep cool in the hot summer months.  As with everything else, Evan has especially good taste in cars.

When I enter the house, I find Evan toiling away in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on our romantic dinner.  He’s tossing a Caesar salad, and when he sees me his face lights up and a slow, mischievous smile spreads across his face.  “How was your drive home tonight?” he asks.  The sudden flash of his smile stops me in my tracks. 

“Oh, Evan, the car is beautiful.  Part of me wants to thank you and the other part of me wants to strangle you.”  I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his waist.  He tucks me under his arm and snickers at my remark.

“Well, which part, exactly, wants to thank me?”  He looks down at me with those thickly lashed big blue eyes and I lose all sense of what I wanted to say. 

“You know you shouldn’t have done it, Evan.  It’s too much.”

“Number one, that car of yours was a death trap.  It was only a matter of time before that clunker broke down with you in it.  I couldn’t stand the thought of you driving home alone at all hours of the night.”

“But Evan, that car got me from...”

“Number two,” he doesn’t even let me finish, “it makes good business sense.  We can write off the finance charges, the fuel, maintenance, and liability because it’s registered to the business.”

“Oh, really?  Is that what the accountant said?” I wonder.

“He did.  Know what else he told me?” Evan asks.  I shake my head.  “We did great our first month.  June’s profits were phenomenal.  He projects July’s profit/loss ratio will be stellar.  That’s why he encouraged me to find some additional write-offs for the business.  We need to keep a healthy bottom line.”  Evan swats me on the ass as his mouth curves into a perfect smile, both wicked and sensual at the same time.  “And I fully intend to protect your bottom line, Juliette.  I have plans for that bottom later.”

As he stares down at me, my scowl dissolves along with my will power.  I have no strength to resist this man or his charms.  “Later?  Why not right now?”  My skin is already tingling and tightening expectantly at his words, craving the pleasure of his erotic torture.

Evan takes my chin in his hand, and gently lifts my mouth to his.  His firm lips move tenderly beneath mine.  His tongue slips into my mouth, lightly touching and teasing mine, deceivingly unhurried. He groans into my mouth, sending sounds of pure pleasure and need slicing me to my core.  Sounds I haven’t heard in far too long.  With the desire for him nearly overwhelming, I deepen the kiss, our tongues madly seeking out the other, our breaths quickening.  The arm he has wrapped around my waist slips beneath my shirt, caressing my bare skin with his warm touch.  I arch into his embrace, needing the closeness and wanting the proof of our unbroken bond. 

“Evan, I . . .” it’s nearly impossible for me to find the words to tell this man how much I need him and want him.  How much I’ve missed him and how empty my life was without him.

“I know,” he says.  “You don’t have to say it.  We have all night, baby.  You’re not going anywhere.  Not tonight.”  I bury my face in his neck, close my eyes, and let him hold me. It feels so good to be home.

“Come on, dinner’s almost ready.  Let’s fill our stomachs first, then we can quench our other needs later.”  His words hang in the air.  I’m so overwhelmed by this man, it’s nearly unbearable.  I sit at the table out on the deck as requested, but it’s nearly impossible for me to be still.  My nerve endings are on fire, both burning and aching at the same time.  To calm myself, I pour a glass of the Syrah sitting on the table.  Its woody richness satisfies my thirst and relaxes my tension.

He’s taken great care to set the mood.  The Eagles’ Greatest Hits are playing softly in the background and the table is set for a romantic dinner for two, complete with candles and a single red rose.  Evan delivers the first course of our meal, a cool and crisp Caesar Salad.  He knows it’s one of my favorites.  “Evan, this is delicious.  What kind of dressing did you use?”

“I made the dressing.  Nothing tonight is going to come from a bottle.  Everything on the menu this evening will be prepared by these hands.”  He takes the back of his hand and lovingly caresses my cheek.  Oh.  My.  God.  Is he trying to kill me?  Instantly, I’m transformed back into a bundle of live wires with sharp jolts of electricity coursing through my body.

After the first course is done, Evan brings out a perfectly seared pepper steak smothered in a creamy pepper sauce along with a small baked potato.  Evan sits across from me, and I can’t help but reach over and run my toes up and down his leg.  I need to feel him, to touch him, to have that connection.  It feels like it did when we first began dating.  I can’t be in the same room with this man without my body begging for his touch.

I take one bite of the pepper steak and it’s every bit as tender and juicy as it looks.  Evan’s a wonderful grill master. I’ve known this since our celebratory barbecue last spring, but this is way beyond my expectations.  “Evan, where did you learn to prepare such an amazing sauce?  My mouth is on fire, but I mean that in the best possible way.”  I take a sip of Syrah to cool my burning taste.

“The funniest thing happened, actually.   I was on the Internet looking up recipes, when there was a knock at the door.   Ryker stopped by to drop off your sweater.   He said he ran into you and the girls at the bar the other night and you left it behind.”

Holy shit.   I didn’t wear a sweater to the bar that night.   “Evan, can I see the sweater?   I just want to make sure it’s mine.”

When he returns, the sweater he’s carrying most definitely belongs to me.   It’s my Victoria’s Secret boyfriend sweater that I wore on my first date with Evan.   I’m pretty sure that’s the sweater I keep in my office at work.   Do I tell Evan he’s lying?   Should I explain to him how Ryker followed me that night and stayed hidden in the shadows until he perceived I was in danger?   If I do, our entire night could be ruined.  

“Is it yours?” he asks.

“Yes it is.   It was very nice of him to drop it off.”   Nice isn’t the first word I would choose.   Unsettling and disturbing come to mind.   But the question burning in the back of my mind remains, why did he lie?

“He helped me with this sauce.   It only has five ingredients.   It was real simple to make.   Ryker’s a pretty good cook, isn’t he?” 

“He is,” I admit.  After a few more bites, my appetite dissipates.  I sit at the table quietly picking at what’s left of my pepper steak and pushing the food around on my plate. 

“What’s wrong, Juliette?  I thought you were enjoying dinner.” 

“Oh, baby, everything is perfect.  Absolutely perfect.  I just haven’t had much of an appetite lately.  There’s been so much going on, and so many things to worry about, my stomach has been in knots for weeks.”  The recent developments with Ryker haven’t helped, either.

“Well, I’m hoping we can put a lot of that behind us and move on.  Do you want me to take your plate away?” he asks, looking at me with such devotion.  His sculpted cheekbones and dark brown brows highlight the beautiful features of his face.  I nod and he rises to clear our plates.  “You sit tight, I have a few pans to clean, and then I’ll be right back with dessert.”

“Do you mind if I get changed while you finish up?  I’ve been in these same clothes all day.  I’d like to put on something a little more comfortable before dessert.”

“Of course.  I’m sorry.  I should have suggested it earlier.  You’ll find that everything is exactly where you left it, Juliette.”  He offers his hand to help me stand and with the other hand, pulls me in close.  He kisses me sweetly, holding me gently as if I were a precious china doll that might break at the slightest touch.  “Don’t be long,” he whispers softly in my ear.

While Evan clears off the table, I grab my purse and head into the bedroom.  Everything I need to change into is right here, in my bag.

I slip out of my shorts and t-shirt and toss them into the hamper.  Reaching into my bag, I find the small velvety gift box that I carefully hid inside.  I open the box and remove the diamond teardrop earrings Evan bought me.  I’ve only worn them once, at our Grand Opening.  The thrill of putting them on again, for this private, intimate gathering of two, has my heart racing. 

I remove my hair from my pony and brush out my long brown hair that’s now highlighted in rich shades of caramel thanks to the summer sun.  I allow my hair to fall carelessly across my shoulders and rest along my back.

After I step out of my bra and panties, I slip on my red strappy stilettos.  There’s something incredibly sensual about wearing a pair of high-heeled shoes like this.  My entire posture changes the instant I stand up.  The curve of my back dramatically shifts, and I can feel my chest stick out and my rear lift up.  I’ve worn these shoes before, so I know I can move around gracefully.  I take a few experimental steps towards the door, and I notice how my hair sweeps from side to side with each step I take.  The feel of my wispy hair tickling the sensitive flesh of my exposed back is thrilling.

The night of our Grand Opening, Evan expressed a wish that he could have me in just these earrings and heels.  The least I can do after his generous gift and romantic dinner is to grant him this one small request.  As I prepare to make my entrance, my body tingles with delight.  I’m acutely aware of my breasts, which are already heavy and full at the mere thought of him touching me.  Walking down the hallway, I can feel my heartbeat quicken as the warm throb in my lower abdomen returns. 

When I enter the kitchen, I find Evan standing over the stove, heating up something in a saucepan.  I stop at the archway into the kitchen, leaning on the wall.  Having heard my footsteps approach, Evan asks me without turning around, “Are you hungry, baby?”

“Starving,” I growl. 

“Good, I . . .” his words trail off as he turns around and spots me, standing there completely naked.  He drops the wooden spoon back into the pot and turns off the burner on the stove, all the while, his focus remaining steadily on me.  “Fuck.”  His voice is deep and his breath is heavy, and I can see his physical response to me already pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

I turn to the side, take a few dramatic steps across the floor, turn again, and walk back towards the bedroom.  I move slowly and deliberately, waiting for Evan to follow behind.  When I hear him turn the corner, I perform my best catwalk, lifting my feet dramatically off the ground with long, elegant strides.  I place one hand on my hip and the other on the doorframe as I step into the bedroom.

Evan is only a few steps behind, madly trying to remove his sneakers as he stumbles down the hallway after me.  When I hear the second shoe hit the floor, I turn to look at him.  I’m afraid of what could happen if he comes at me full force.  We might tear each other apart.  I put out one hand, signaling for him to stop, and he immediately obeys, freezing in his tracks.  He almost growls my name, “Juliette,” making me tingle at the images it invokes:  his flesh pressed against mine, our breaths rapid and needy.  Butterflies begin to take flight in my stomach.

In full control of this situation, I tell Evan to remove his shirt for me, “Slowly, so I can watch you,” I tell him.  When he lifts his shirt, revealing his glorious chest, I watch in delight as the sinewy muscles of his biceps stretch and flex. 

He tosses the shirt to the floor and asks, “Should I keep going?”

“Wait,” I demand.  I sit on the edge of the bed and cross my legs, dangling one stilettoed foot in front of me.  “Turn around and take off your pants.  Just your pants.”

When Evan turns, the vision of his broad shoulders have me instantly wet and needy.  When he slips out of his jeans, he turns and faces me, wearing nothing but his gray boxer briefs, stretched beyond it’s capability by the fullness of his erection pressing to be free.

I lean back a little, uncross my legs, and cross them again, flashing Evan a look at what awaits for him.  “Fuck,” he groans again, his voice sexy as hell.

“That’s the plan,” I whisper.  “Now, take the rest of it off.”

Evan does as instructed as I rise up from the bed.  My eyes grow wide at the sight of him standing there, big and hard, completely turned on.  We stand there, completely bare and exposed to one another, yet neither one of us moves.  I am transfixed by the vision of him, his perfect skin tanned and toned, his muscles ripped and chiseled, his body a virile work of art.  I sweep my hair off to the side, showing off the exquisite diamond earrings.  His eyes grow wide and I can see his patience waning.

“Playtime is over Juliette,” he growls as he walks towards me.  I feel my skin quiver, sensing him before he actually touches me.  Then he reaches for me, moving slowly and cautiously, delaying the moment when our bare skin would touch.  He places his hands on my hips and turns me away from him, placing one hand over my stomach, and gently pulling me against him, sending a sudden rush of sensations coursing wildly through my body. 

I gasp and shudder beneath his touch, feeling his erection pressing hard against my ass.  His other hand begins to move from my hip towards my belly, then lower, finding the fleshy folds of my sex.  As he slips one finger inside, I close my eyes and toss my head back.  Instinctively, my hands travel up my body and find the tight firm peaks of my breast.  As Evan hungrily nibbles on my neck, I roll each nipple, applying just the right amount of pressure.  Slowly, he eases a second finger inside, and my knees get weak.  I need to feel him inside me, possessing me, knowing for certain that he is mine. 

With his free hand, he sweeps my hair to the side, opening up my neck for him.  He nuzzles my neck and groans, “I love you so much, Juliette.” 

I twist from his grip, turn and face him, my six-inch heels bringing me much closer to his lips.  He bends down, grabs a hold of me and lifts me up, sealing his lips to mine.  His kisses grow more and more demanding, greedy, and devouring, speaking not a word, but saying so much.

Evan takes a few steps towards the bed and places me down slowly as he settles himself atop me.  His mouth feels warm and soft on my breasts, licking and sucking madly.  I grab a hold of his head, grasping locks of his hair to pull and twist, while pressing him tightly against me.  “I’ve missed you so much,” I confess, tightly closing my eyes to enjoy every movement of his ravaging tongue.