Page 50 of Ruthless Love

“I do,” he says, tilting my head with one of his strong, tender hands, and angling his rigid cock at my lips with the other.

My mouth opens, and he slides himself along my tongue, giving me as much as I want. Tasting him, I’m nearly undone and about to come again. I want all of him.

When I lay into him, giving it my all in a forceful suck, the only thing he says is, “God, Evie. That’s it.” His hips thrust in a steady pace, and I’m lulled, warm in the foolish thought of this connection. Our connection.

With a gentle grip on my hair, he drags himself out, stroking the fullness of my lower lip with his thumb. “It’s not too late to back out.”

The hunger in his eyes is lost behind something else, and despite the lingering invitation of his sincere smile, concern bleeds through.

My hand presses his into my cheek, and I kiss his palm. “I’m not backing out.”

A contemplative look flashes across his face before he grabs a condom from his pants. Sheathing himself in a slow, teasing stroke, he nestles his body gently on mine. The heat of his tip at my core halts my breath.

“You sure?” he asks. “This isn’t something I can undo later, or erase.”

Smiling, I make a desperate move to take more of him. He backs up, his lifted brow conveying his control.

It’s me who moves up to his lips, planting several kisses of reassurance. “I’m sure.”

The words barely escape my lips before he thrusts inside, throwing me to my back, feeding me the full length of him at once. As he rocks me in harmony with him, nothing else exists. Just every nerve of my body building. Climbing. Desperate for him. Only him.

In the forever that disappears in seconds, his kisses and licks across my breasts send tingles and shivers across my arms to my fingertips as they glide and grasp along the muscles of his neck and carved angles of his back. My legs wrap around him, eager to keep him—hold him—for as long as I can. As soon as my heel meets the resistance of his skin, he bucks hard, using his thumb to make tiny circles along my clit.

I hold out, clinging to the pleasure that fills me, only strong enough to push off my climax until he says, “Now.” His low, deep command has me tumbling into more sensations and emotions than I ever knew existed, consuming me in each breath, undoing me with each shudder.

And then it’s over. Austin covers me with a nearby throw, cuddles me, tells me how I’m everything, leaving me with the sinking feeling that he was right.

This can’t be undone. Or erased.

I never imagined that the way to get over someone would lead me to falling for someone else. Someone unintentional. Unavailable.

As he dresses and leaves me for the night, I pretend to sleep, not stirring at all when his lips press their heat on my cheek. Regret rolls over me like a thick fog, and when the door clicks closed, I sink into longing for him—the only man who’s ever managed to walk away with a precious piece of my heart.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

EVIE

It’s been barely two days since I’ve seen Austin, and I can’t help the look of longing I waste on my phone. Sure, he’s called. He’s texted. The “I have to head out of town” and “I’ll be back” texts are broken up by a myriad of dirty memes, funny pics, and one GIF of a puppy bringing flowers.

I try to stay busy, but I can’t help myself. I miss him. And the second he mentioned coming back, I snagged him for dinner. Or at least I think I did.

I should have asked Austin for a response. Or actually bothered to ask a question. Instead, I tried to phrase it as a casual invitation rather than the center of my night.

Evie: Caramel apple pie. 7:00 p.m.

It doesn’t help that I’ve spent every night on that couch. Remembering his touch. Soaking in the waning remnants of his scent. And let’s face it ... sulking.

Sure, I probably have enough cash to do something really insane, like proposition him for an exclusivity agreement. I know I’ll crumple if I see him again. And beg.

I keep reminding myself it’s all a fantasy, and I just need to kick this habit cold. Because this is exactly how addicts get hooked. One sample of mind-blowingly amazing sex, and no cock compares. I can’t compromise. I should cut myself off from the pumping paradise known only as Austin, but I can’t.

Revisiting the oven clock for the ten millionth time, I sigh. It’s 7:08 p.m. Looks like the pie I slaved over for an hour will be all mine. Which is fine. Eating my feelings is what I do best. It should pair well with the ribs. It’s probably best that Austin doesn’t see how much damage I can do to this meal.

And while I’m at it, I might as well get comfortable for the buffet to come.

I allow myself one last look in the mirror, admiring how this little black dress flatters my legs and hugs my curves perfectly. Then I swap it out for an extra-long T-shirt and some socks, deciding loungewear is the preferred attire for the food coma to come. I ditch the bra but leave on my panties, and scoop up my hair into a messy bun that’s how I usually wear it for baking.

The oven timer begins its series of light beep-beep-beeps but stops short. Because a broken oven is all I need tonight.

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