She nods. “That makes sense. But we’d miss you. I’d miss you.”
“I’d miss you, too,” I say, fighting the insane urge to brush her damp curls from her forehead and trail my fingers down her heart-shaped face. To run my thumb over her full bottom lip and see if it’s as soft as it looks.
Where is this urge to cross the line with Evie coming from and how can I make it stop?
I have no idea but I’m guessing spending a couple hours teaching her and her friends how to “pull tail,” probably isn’t going to help the situation.
I’m about to suggest that we head into the kitchen to open the wine—I could absolutely use a glass or ten to take the edge off—when she presses a hand to my chest and whispers, “We can’t do this, Ian. I’m sorry. I just…I need you to leave. Now.”
“But I promised I would—”
“I know what you promised, and I’m sure you put a lot of time and thought into your lesson because you put time and thought into everything you do, but I can’t do this.” She shakes her head as she pushes me back toward the door. “I just can’t. If you come in here and start talking about flirting and kissing and whatever else you’re going to talk about, I’m going to embarrass myself.”
Understanding dawns and I bring my hand to cover hers, pressing it closer to my heart. “No, you won’t. I promise, Evie. I’m not here to judge. I’m here to help. And I won’t breathe a word about this to Derrick, any of the guys on the team, or anyone else. You can trust me.”
“I know I can trust you, Ian,” she says with an exasperated huff. “It’s not about trusting you; it’s about trusting me. I’m not myself lately. If you don’t leave right now, I’m afraid I’m going to do something stupid.”
“Like what?” I ask, my forehead furrowing.
“Like this,” she says, fisting her hand in my shirt and giving it a tug. I lean forward in response and suddenly Evie’s lips are on mine.
For a moment I’m too stunned to respond, but the shock only lasts as long as it takes for Evie to wrap her arms around my neck and press her curvy little body against mine. The moment her breasts flatten against my pecs, it’s like a floodgate opens deep inside of me.
A beat later, I have my free arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground as I deepen the kiss. Her lips part, and my tongue sweeps in to stroke against hers, tasting chocolate from the donut she had this afternoon, a hint of coffee, and an earthy sweetness that’s Evie’s taste.
And it is, insanely good. My new favorite flavor. Bar none.
“We have to stop,” she whispers against my mouth, even as she threads her fingers into my hair, the feel of her nails scratching lightly against my scalp driving me fucking crazy. “Harlow and Jess will be home any second and Cam is almost done making dinner. They’re going to catch us.”
“I’m more concerned about us, Evie,” I say, groaning softly as her hip brushes against my erection through my jeans. “Up until about two hours ago I didn’t realize I wanted to kiss you, let alone…”
“Let alone what?” she asks, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she apparently realizes that isn’t a flashlight in my pants.
“That I want you,” I whisper, tightening my grip on her waist, wishing I weren’t holding this damned wine bottle so I could squeeze her ass.
“I want you, too.” She pulls back to gaze into my eyes with a slightly shell-shocked, but determined expression. “I want you and I trust you and since I’ve already screwed things up by kissing you…”
“You haven’t screwed things up,” I say, even as my brain starts spitting out all the reasons getting involved with Evie would be a no-good, very bad idea.
* * *
She’s my insanely protective best friend’s little sister and Derrick will cut my dick off if he thinks I’m even thinking about getting it close to Evie.
She’s innocent and inexperienced and chances are I’d end up hurting her feelings, no matter how hard I would try not to.
She’s innocent and inexperienced, tiny all over, and a virgin, which means I’d probably end up hurting her physically, as well. I’m not a small man in any sense of the word, and even with experienced women, my cock can take some getting used to.
* * *
They’re all very good reasons.
Very, very good reasons.
But none of them do a damned thing to soften my dick. If anything, the thought of Evie under me, wrapping her legs around my hips and lifting into me as I push inside her for the first time only makes my cock pulse harder.
I’m still aching when she says, “I’m just saying that we can’t go back after this, Ian. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I liked the way I felt today in those new clothes. I liked the way you looked at me when I was wearing them. But instead of acknowledging those feelings or dealing with them, I ran home and showered and hid in my overalls again. But I can’t hide forever, and I don’t want to. I’m ready to take the next step, to grow up, to try new things and learn new things and…” She swallows, her throat working before she adds, “I want you to teach me, but not like you’re teaching the others. I want hands-on experience, and I want you to be my first.”
Before I can pull in a deep breath or do anything else to stop the spinning feeling in my head, the door opens behind us, shoving me forward into Evie and sending us both stumbling.
Evie goes down and I trip over her, landing sprawled on a pile of shoes and dusty umbrellas as Harlow steps inside.
She spots us on the ground and huffs in amusement. “Oops. Sorry, guys. I didn’t expect you to be lurking in front of the door. Why were you lurking in front of the door?” She points a finger my way. “You’d better not be trying to back out, jerk face. We’re counting on you. Jess is so excited she made me promise to take her to a bar after the first lesson if she’s feeling sassy.”
“I’m already feeling sassy,” Jess says from outside, poking her head in through the door and frowning as she sees Evie and me still sprawled on the ground. “Are you two okay?”
“They’re just clumsy and bad at knowing where to stand,” Harlow says, stepping over us before kicking her shoes off beside my head with a sigh. “Mmm, supper smells great, Cameron. Do I have time to take a shower before? Chas patted my back four times while we were studying, and I feel tainted by mansplainer germs.”
“Yeah, if you hurry,” Cam calls out from the kitchen. “I’m starting the shrimp in five and they only take about two minutes.”
“Got it!” Harlow dashes into the apartment, her purse bouncing against her shoulder as she shouts back to me, “You’d better still be here when I get back, Ian, or I’m going to give you an even worse nickname than Hitler.”
“Is there a worse nickname than Hitler?” Jess asks as she steps inside and closes the door behind her.
I rise to my feet as Evie moves past Jess to flip the deadlock. “Probably. I wouldn’t put Harlow to the test on that one if I were you, Ian.” She turns back to me as she adds, “I think you’d better stay.”