Page 27 of Rolling Thunder

He laughed, and at the sound, Abbey came skidding around the corner on the fake-wood floor and sliding into Evan’s leg, tail swinging in a wild circle. In her mouth was one of Kayla’s naughtiest lacey thongs.

Evan removed the panties from the dog’s grip and glanced up at Kayla.

“And worse, she’s a panty thief.”

He walked across the small kitchen to where Kayla stood leaning against the counter and sucked all the air right out of the room as he did. He’d melted her heart and then ridden off into the sunset without an explanation for three days, dumping his dog on her to boot. He was just like every man she’d ever known, no different from goddam Canyon Bill. She didn’t need another reckless cowboy riding off and leaving her life in ruins. But she had given him the cold shoulder the morning after. That didn’t give her much leeway to hold it against him.

Now that he was practically on top of her, her heart seized up like a clenched fist and then released a rush of blood through her veins, flooding her mind until she was half drowned and stupid. And then he did it. He just nestled her back into the counter until she couldn’t move and kissed her like he had nothing else to do all day. Like he had missed her. Like he wanted her in his bed again. And her traitorous body woke up and cheered. She didn’t want him to want her. She’d sworn it would be a one-night thing. She knew there was no hope for them.

He eased off her and caressed her face, and instantly, she remembered him carrying her down the hall like she was cherished. And he’d come back. She tried to slap herself mentally—he was only back because he lived on her street and she had his dog. He wasn’t back for her. She swallowed hard, trying to keep from looking into his face.

She was like a wraith living on the edge of the conscious world, hovering half-dead and merely a translucent image of whatever men wanted to see when they looked at her. She could be the glittering emotionless sex doll. She could drown her revulsion in booze until it died and she was nothing but the ghost left behind.

His fingertips traced down the sides of her face, pushing her hair back. With the gentle scrape of his callused fingers on her skin, his touch solidified her and transformed her into a living being. The bare floor was cold and smooth beneath her feet. She was pressed back against the countertop just like before, and the bodily memory of the last time they’d been together rushed through her as clear and real as if it were happening that instant. By his proximity alone, she could practically feel him inside her. She remembered the shuddering release, and her body throbbed for him. It wasn’t just lust. She longed for the warm, safe feeling she had when he held her.

“Do you want me to go?” he murmured in her ear. She wanted to feel his strength. She wanted a moment where she was his cherished possession, safe from the world. She wanted it so bad that the pain of the aftermath, when she had to face the reality that they couldn’t be together and she wasn’t what he thought she was, dimmed to the point she could momentarily block it out. She pushed it aside with the fantasy that somehow this could work out. Maybe he never needed to know about her past. Maybe she could just allow his touch to bring her to life and start over fresh on this day, with him.

“What do you want?” he asked, his mouth traveling to her neck below her ear. In answer, she grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt and yanked it off. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. He made short work of her remaining clothes, peeling her jeans and panties off in one smooth motion. He spun her around and covered her hands with his, bracing her against the counter.

“I feel like you’re gonna cuff me,” she quipped, her sarcasm always bubbling up at the worst times.

“Any time you want, baby. I’ll give you anything you want,” he said, pushing her legs apart and scooping her ass into his capable hands. Her mind scrambled with doubt but her body had none. She throbbed and ached for him. He unbuckled, unzipped, and rolled on a condom at record speed, plunging into her.

“Oh God!” she gasped. He didn’t give her much time to acclimate. He fucked her hard and fast, and if her brain hadn’t caught up, her body had. She wanted more, so much more. She couldn’t move much, but he must have felt her urgency because he grabbed her hips, giving a quick jerk to satisfy them both. A frantic, wild need rose up inside her that only he had ever unleashed. Her body was hot and desperate for something only he could give. The loss of control was terrifying, and a shudder of fear ran through her and her knees threatened to buckle. He grasped her with a strong arm around her waist. She gasped air in frantic little puffs of breath, trying to steady herself.

“I got you,” he murmured into her skin. He kissed the back of her neck. Those three words knocked loose the boulder of fear that had lodged in her lungs making it hard to breathe. She gasped a full breath, the sudden oxygen made her lightheaded. A hot rush of awareness spread through her and without forethought, she ground back against him.

His fingers traced along her rear, gathering the wetness from their joining and pressing against her rear entrance, asking in gentle rhythm. It was the only thing that was gentle right then.

“Do you want that?” he asked, his voice husky, his breath on the back of her neck. He was asking, not taking. Asking her what she wanted, asking for her consent. And there had been so little of that in her life, it was a foreign concept. Its presence now was a glaring contrast.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done that.” She felt suddenly shaky with vulnerability. He had stripped her of every defense she had, stripped her and entered her and rocked her. Every nerve ending in her body stood at attention. He had slowed the frantic pace but continued to circle and press gently at her rear without entering. It seemed like he wasn’t just asking to enter her body anymore. He couldn’t, without also entering her mind, or her frightened, lonely soul. He had physical control of her that moment. He could have done with her as he pleased, but he was waiting for her.

She arched involuntarily.

“Tell me.” More, so much more. At last, she said the word her body was saying. The need was bigger than the fear.

“Yes,” she said, but when he moved again, she tensed.

“Relax, it’s okay,”he murmured, pressing a big hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the counter. She was completely at his mercy, but he continued to murmur soft assurances to her which felt like caresses to her frightened core. Gently, he tamed her until she did relax and allow him in. He was balls deep inside her pussy and now his thumb was in her ass. She was stretched and filled in a way she never had been before. The pressure was overwhelming—so strong she could focus on nothing but that. Every other sensation was doubled while her mind went hazy.

“You good?” he asked her gruffly. The only answer she could give was a gasp and a moan as she clenched around him. He stilled against her, his breath hot on her shoulder. The only thing that continued was his soft stroking of her clit. She panted, fighting against the most intense orgasm she’d ever felt. “Kayla?” he asked her again.

“Yeah. Good,” she muttered. Usually, it was so easy to fall off a black cliff in her mind into the pit where she felt nothing and pleasure was a superficial sensation. That had become her escape, and most times, men didn’t care. There was no escaping Evan. He controlled every inch of her. He was inside her in every way. She tried to hold back, and he pulled her right back into it with him. He wouldn’t let her slip away, he wouldn’t let her refuse to tell him if she was all right. She had a feeling he would immediately know if she was lying. He thrust into her again and the pressure and tension inside her triggered tiny cracks that were the beginning of an avalanche.

“Come for me.”

Her shoulders trembled where she was propped on her kitchen counter, impaled on him.

“I can’t come.” She whispered the confession to him. There was no lying or deceiving now, not when they were so intertwined they were practically one body.

“Yes, you can. Just let it happen,” he replied, slightly increasing the pace on her clit. She gasped, cried out, arched her back, and he urged her on. He withdrew slightly and plunged back into her and the shock of it triggered her into an explosive orgasm that gripped him so hard she knew she’d brought him there as well. He growled and fucked her, and ripple upon ripple of shuddering release whipped through her, as if drawn from him. As if they were two bodies sharing one orgasm.

At long last, he gently withdrew from her, and as soon as he did, she began to collapse. He caught her and once again scooped her into his arms, carrying her down the short hallway to her bedroom. He laid her on the bed and went into the adjoining bathroom.

“Shit.” His tone jolted her rudely back to reality.

“What?” she asked, sitting up.

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