Irresistible In Love
Page 59
Not enough, never enough.
He devoured her. Consumed the air right out of her lungs. And they still weren’t close enough.
Bending, he hauled her up against his body, her legs rising to his waist. He cupped her, held her tight, her center hot against all his hardness. She shoved the door all the way open, and with his hands under her butt and her arms anchoring him to her, he carried her inside.
He’d barely kicked the door closed behind them when she tore at his clothes, their lips still locked together. First his jacket, then the buttons of his shirt. He let her feet slide to the entry floor. He heard the suitcase fall on its side as his foot knocked it out of the way.
He threw her coat somewhere, heard the zipper thwack the wall. Then he whipped her sweater over her head. “You are so beautiful.” He cupped each gorgeous breast, feasting on them.
“Shoes,” she said. “Everything. Please. I want it all off. Now.”
Then there were just hands, mouths, gasped breaths, and the rustle of clothing as they ripped and tore and tossed. Something fell off a table and rolled across the carpet as he dragged her down to the floor in her living room. Her scent was a mixture of sea air and chocolate. He buried his face between her breasts and gloried in her moan as he took a tight peak into his mouth.
“Evan. Oh God.” She arched against him, riding him.
Never enough. He tore off her panties, the last scrap of fabric between them, needing his hands on her, in her. She was so wet, so hot, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe with the want so tight in his gut. He crawled down her body until finally he could taste her. Her cries filled the room, filled his head, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, needing, wanting as urgently as he did.
Her explosion rocked them both, and she was still high when he plunged deep inside her, her body still contracting as he hit home. But he needed so much more, and she urged him on with her hands, her lips, her tongue. Begging wordlessly.
He took her hard, driving their bodies across the carpet, and yet she clung to him, crying out his name, pleading for more, higher, harder, deeper. He lost his mind, he was simply sensation and desire, his need so powerful that it roared in his ears. They were one body, one mind, one heartbeat, one being, and together they flew to the highest peak and flung themselves off, falling into endless pleasure and bottomless bliss.
He held her tight. She was such perfection in his arms. But then thought returned. Realization.
“Did I hurt you?” He remembered the carpet against her soft skin.
She stroked his cheek. “You could never hurt me.”
But he could. So badly. “I didn’t mean to do that.” His words were hoarse, raw from pleasure. And the guilt germinating inside him. He never wanted to hurt her, not physically, not emotionally. “I didn’t intend to drag you inside and devour you in your entryway.”
“I loved being devoured. And we both did the dragging inside.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “But I think we also both need some time and space to process.”
His chest tightened. Terror, that’s what it was. Terror that she’d think and process…and end up choosing a life without him. She’d promised him otherwise at the hotel, said she’d always be there. But his mother had promised always to be there for him—and she’d vanished like a ghost.
When Paige looked into his eyes, he swore she could read his thoughts—even as mangled and twisted as they were. “Don’t overthink it, okay? You. Me. Together. We’re beautiful. Remember that.”
“I can’t forget it.”
She touched her lips to his, then started to pull away, but he wrapped his hand around her nape, taking her lips in a long, decadent sip. She opened to him again, so beautiful, so trusting despite everything. And he wanted them to stay here, just like this, forever.
But in the end, though it felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done, he let her go. Rolling to his feet, he put his clothes on. She was dressed too by the time he opened the door, and she went up on her toes, kissing him once more. His heart ached with the gentleness of it, but he didn’t beg her to let him stay.
Because he had to let her go. They needed time, just like she said. He’d hurt her all those years ago, and he could so easily hurt her again.
Because Paige loved him.
He hadn’t been worthy of her love nine years ago.
Was there any chance that he could be worthy of her now?
* * *
Paige closed her door and leaned against it. Nothing was certain with Evan, but she still felt dreamy and sexy and giddy—all the things that people in love felt. She could have gotten him to stay the night. She certainly could have lured him into making love to her again.
But where the lovemaking they’d just shared had been instinctive—utterly impossible to resist on both their parts—if she’d angled for the whole night, that would have been manipulation. And though her heart was on the line, she refused to be like her sister, manipulating Evan to her advantage, wheedling to get what she wanted.
He needed time to build his trust—anyone in his situation would. It might take months, maybe even until after the divorce was final. And after he’d worked out his feelings for his mother.
He hadn’t said he loved her. And she hadn’t expected it.
But she had hoped for it. For Evan to look at her and see everything he’d ever wanted. To tell her she was the woman who had been in his heart all along.
She was lost in her turbulent thoughts when her doorbell rang. She jumped away from the door, joy infusing every cell of her body at the thought that Evan had already done his thinking. That he was back to say he wanted to be with her. That he might even be here to say that he loved her.
He devoured her. Consumed the air right out of her lungs. And they still weren’t close enough.
Bending, he hauled her up against his body, her legs rising to his waist. He cupped her, held her tight, her center hot against all his hardness. She shoved the door all the way open, and with his hands under her butt and her arms anchoring him to her, he carried her inside.
He’d barely kicked the door closed behind them when she tore at his clothes, their lips still locked together. First his jacket, then the buttons of his shirt. He let her feet slide to the entry floor. He heard the suitcase fall on its side as his foot knocked it out of the way.
He threw her coat somewhere, heard the zipper thwack the wall. Then he whipped her sweater over her head. “You are so beautiful.” He cupped each gorgeous breast, feasting on them.
“Shoes,” she said. “Everything. Please. I want it all off. Now.”
Then there were just hands, mouths, gasped breaths, and the rustle of clothing as they ripped and tore and tossed. Something fell off a table and rolled across the carpet as he dragged her down to the floor in her living room. Her scent was a mixture of sea air and chocolate. He buried his face between her breasts and gloried in her moan as he took a tight peak into his mouth.
“Evan. Oh God.” She arched against him, riding him.
Never enough. He tore off her panties, the last scrap of fabric between them, needing his hands on her, in her. She was so wet, so hot, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe with the want so tight in his gut. He crawled down her body until finally he could taste her. Her cries filled the room, filled his head, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, needing, wanting as urgently as he did.
Her explosion rocked them both, and she was still high when he plunged deep inside her, her body still contracting as he hit home. But he needed so much more, and she urged him on with her hands, her lips, her tongue. Begging wordlessly.
He took her hard, driving their bodies across the carpet, and yet she clung to him, crying out his name, pleading for more, higher, harder, deeper. He lost his mind, he was simply sensation and desire, his need so powerful that it roared in his ears. They were one body, one mind, one heartbeat, one being, and together they flew to the highest peak and flung themselves off, falling into endless pleasure and bottomless bliss.
He held her tight. She was such perfection in his arms. But then thought returned. Realization.
“Did I hurt you?” He remembered the carpet against her soft skin.
She stroked his cheek. “You could never hurt me.”
But he could. So badly. “I didn’t mean to do that.” His words were hoarse, raw from pleasure. And the guilt germinating inside him. He never wanted to hurt her, not physically, not emotionally. “I didn’t intend to drag you inside and devour you in your entryway.”
“I loved being devoured. And we both did the dragging inside.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “But I think we also both need some time and space to process.”
His chest tightened. Terror, that’s what it was. Terror that she’d think and process…and end up choosing a life without him. She’d promised him otherwise at the hotel, said she’d always be there. But his mother had promised always to be there for him—and she’d vanished like a ghost.
When Paige looked into his eyes, he swore she could read his thoughts—even as mangled and twisted as they were. “Don’t overthink it, okay? You. Me. Together. We’re beautiful. Remember that.”
“I can’t forget it.”
She touched her lips to his, then started to pull away, but he wrapped his hand around her nape, taking her lips in a long, decadent sip. She opened to him again, so beautiful, so trusting despite everything. And he wanted them to stay here, just like this, forever.
But in the end, though it felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done, he let her go. Rolling to his feet, he put his clothes on. She was dressed too by the time he opened the door, and she went up on her toes, kissing him once more. His heart ached with the gentleness of it, but he didn’t beg her to let him stay.
Because he had to let her go. They needed time, just like she said. He’d hurt her all those years ago, and he could so easily hurt her again.
Because Paige loved him.
He hadn’t been worthy of her love nine years ago.
Was there any chance that he could be worthy of her now?
* * *
Paige closed her door and leaned against it. Nothing was certain with Evan, but she still felt dreamy and sexy and giddy—all the things that people in love felt. She could have gotten him to stay the night. She certainly could have lured him into making love to her again.
But where the lovemaking they’d just shared had been instinctive—utterly impossible to resist on both their parts—if she’d angled for the whole night, that would have been manipulation. And though her heart was on the line, she refused to be like her sister, manipulating Evan to her advantage, wheedling to get what she wanted.
He needed time to build his trust—anyone in his situation would. It might take months, maybe even until after the divorce was final. And after he’d worked out his feelings for his mother.
He hadn’t said he loved her. And she hadn’t expected it.
But she had hoped for it. For Evan to look at her and see everything he’d ever wanted. To tell her she was the woman who had been in his heart all along.
She was lost in her turbulent thoughts when her doorbell rang. She jumped away from the door, joy infusing every cell of her body at the thought that Evan had already done his thinking. That he was back to say he wanted to be with her. That he might even be here to say that he loved her.
