“Not really. A husband or wife is just a best friend you like to bang, right?” I pause as we push through the doors, lowering my voice as we emerge into the lobby on the other side. “And the way you look at me makes it obvious how much you want to ride my pony, Mrs. Jenkins.”
She glares up at me, but she’s fighting a grin. “Oh yeah? Well, it’s pretty obvious you feel the same way, Mr. Jenkins. I bet you’re fighting the urge to squeeze my ass right now.”
I reach down, copping a quick feel of her irresistible backside through her linen shorts, loving the way her jaw drops in response. “Nope,” I say. “I’m done fighting battles I can’t win.”
Amusement and compassion mingle in her gaze. “Good. But if you do that again, I’m going to return the favor.”
I frown and add in a soft, dry voice, “Oh, no. Not your hot little hands all over me in public. Anything but that.”
She wrinkles her nose as she hisses, “Really? You’re into that? Public groping?”
“When it comes to you? Hell, yes. I’m into any kind of groping I can get.”
“Well, then.” She fights another smile, but her dimples pop through. “That’s okay, I guess.”
“So much better than okay,” I murmur as we approach the back of the short line to check in and I stand behind her, my hands lingering at her waist. “But I’ll do my best to control myself until we get upstairs.”
Evie looks up at me over her shoulder, the heat in her eyes making my jeans tighter. “I can’t wait to be alone with you.”
“Me, either,” I say, ignoring the voice of doom whispering away at the back of my head, insisting I’m going to regret this, maybe for the rest of my life.
Chapter 27
Evie
We step into our room just as the last of the sunset light fades behind the mountains, casting the valley below in soft purples and blues. The view through the floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the enormous suite is stunning, but it’s the massive four-poster bed in the bedroom—clearly visible through the open door to my right—that catches and holds my gaze.
There it is.
The bed where I’ll finally learn what it feels like to make love.
It isn’t going to be just laid-back sexy times between Ian and me, I know that already. But the realization doesn’t make this moment scarier, the way I would have assumed even a few days ago.
It just makes it feel…inevitable.
This may have started as friends with benefits, but it’s already so much more. Ian is my destination, the safe, but oh-so-exciting place I didn’t realize I was looking for until I ended up in his arms and realized I never wanted to leave.
I never want him to leave, either, but I understand why he has to. He can’t stay here. This team is damaging something inside of him, that bedrock of kindness and optimism that make him the wonderful person he is. I would rather go through the pain of saying goodbye than have him stay and watch the light go out inside of him.
I care too much about him for that.
I’ll make the most of our one night, wish him well, and set him free.
Ian reappears in the doorway of the bedroom, nodding over his shoulder as he leans against the frame. “Our bags are in the closet. As promised. Are you hungry? Should I order room service? Or we can go down to the restaurant for dinner. They’re supposed to have a killer polenta.”
“I don’t want polenta,” I say, stepping out of my Vans and padding slowly across the thick carpet in my socked feet. I stop a short distance from the gorgeous man watching me with a look of tenderness and desire that makes me feel so special, that I know I’m never going to regret this choice.
How could I? When all I feel as I hold out my hand to him is hope and happiness and…love.
I love him, I realize as he pulls me into his arms, crushing his lips to mine with a grateful groan that hums through my bones, making me want him even more. I’m in love with this beautiful, sexy, perfect man, and I have been for a long time.
As he hugs me tight, lifting me off my feet before he turns and sways slowly toward the bed, memories from all the years that came before flash behind my closed eyes. Memories of the kindness he showed me when we were kids, the faith he had in me as I chased my dreams after high school, and all the ways—big and small—that he showed me I was lovable.
Maybe Derrick’s love and support would have been enough to help me grow up strong, but maybe not. I don’t think I’ve realized until right now how much Ian’s support and care meant to me, how much he helped me become the person I am, someone I’m proud of, who has the confidence to not only know and love herself, but to help other people do the same.
As he lays me down on the bed, lengthening himself on top of me, I can’t help cupping his face in both hands and saying, “Thank you. For being my friend and caring about me. I don’t know who I would have grown up to be without you, but I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have been nearly as awesome. Or emotionally stable.”
Something moves behind his eyes, a feeling I can’t name, but that makes my heart beat faster as he says in a husky voice, “Don’t thank me, Feisty. You’re one of the best of us. And you were always going to be who you are, with or without my help. You should be so proud. I know I am.”
Tears pressing against the backs of my eyes, I confess my last secret, the one I have a feeling he already knows. Because he knows me. Really knows me, nearly as well as I know myself. “I love you.”
His throat works and his body tenses against mine. For a moment, I think he’s going to pull away, but instead he says, “I love you, too.”
Willing my soaring heart to keep its feet on the ground, I add in a softer voice, “And not just as a friend.”
His lips curve. “Yeah, I figured, since you’re grinding on my cock and all.”
“I’m not…” I trail off as I realize I am grinding on his cock and will my hips to still and sink into the mattress.
“Don’t stop,” he says, a smile in his kiss as he murmurs against my mouth, “I like feeling how much you want this, want me.” He deepens the kiss, his tongue stroking against mine as his warm hand slips beneath my sweater, just the feel of his fingers molding to my ribs enough to make it hard to breathe. “And I like knowing this isn’t casual for you, either. It sure as hell isn’t for me.”
I shiver against him, my nipples so tight it’s painful. “I need you to touch me,” I say, arching into the hand lingering beneath my breast.
“Here?” he asks, brushing his fingers over my nipple through the satin of my bra, making my pulse leap and my hips rock against his erection again.
“Everywhere,” I say, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. “And I need you naked. Five minutes ago.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he rumbles against my mouth before pulling back just long enough to jerk his shirt over his head, revealing the perfection of his chest.
But I want more than his chest. I want all of him, every gorgeous inch bared to my hungry gaze.
I reach for the close of his pants, but his hands are already there. Our fingers tangle as we battle for the privilege of popping that top button. He lets me win, watching as I drag his zipper down and curl my fingers around the top of his jeans and the boxer briefs beneath.