Page 13 of Sexy Bad Valentine

“Plane crash. When I was eight.” It was so long ago, the emotions I feel when I think about them are muted now, the memories a little intangible.

“I’m so sorry.” Evie reaches out and squeezes my arm.

“What about you?”

“No brothers or sisters. My parents live about forty minutes out of the city. Not much else to tell.”

“I’m sure there is a whole lot to tell about you.” I pick up a lock of her hair. I was right about it being silky, and it smells fresh, like spring.

“Did you just sniff my hair?” She gapes at me. “Did you really just do that?”

I release the strands, watch them fall back toward her shoulder. “You smell like apples.”

“It’s the shampoo.” She crinkles her brow. “Do you normally go around sniffing women’s hair?”

“No.” Actually that was a first for me. “Uh, maybe that fat haystack is rubbing off on me. You know how dogs like to sniff.”

“Butts,” she says, her hands swinging down behind her in a protective motion. “Please tell me you’re not going to try sniffing my butt now.”

“Well, no,” I sputter. “I’m not going to do that.”

“Good.” She exhales the word and then laughs nervously.

I move in closer, rest my hand on the side of her neck. Throat muscles tense under my touch as I bring my mouth near to her ear. “Would you mind awfully if I told you there were other more fun things I’d rather do when it comes to your ass?”

Her breath catches, and she whispers, “Like what?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”

“You have to now. You can’t talk to a girl like that and not finish what you’re saying.”

“I like you, Evie, and I know that we can’t start anything right now with you doing the Puppy Love show. Trust me, I wish we could.”

“Pretend I’m not,” she urges. “Pretend I’m just some girl you’re going to spend a night with.”

I heave in a breath and get caught up in her scent. I want to tell her that I could never treat her as one of those girls, can’t even imagine her as one of those girls, but that’s not what she wants to hear. “Then I would tell you how much I like the way you walk, and how beautiful it would be to see your heart shaped ass up in the air while you wait for me to enter you. How I want to bite it, and how my fingers itch to leave a playful mark on your skin while I make you scream my name.”

“Oh God,” she whispers roughly. “Max.”

I step back and drop my hand from her skin. My pulse is racing like it’s in the Kentucky Derby. Why the hell are my fingers trembling?

The heavens open above us, rain pissing down. In a matter of seconds, the pavement starts to turn dark.

“We should get out of this rain,” she says. “My car’s back at Puppy Love.”

“I have a better idea.” I take her hand and tug her in the opposite direction. “My apartment is just around the corner.”

We run through the rain, racing up the stairs and into the lobby of my apartment building. The guy on the door barely glances at us as we dart into the elevator. One thing is for sure, the moment the doors close I can’t not kiss her. Christ help me, I should be able to help myself. I’ve always been in control when it comes to women, but Evie is different. And she doesn’t try to stop me, in fact she grabs the lapels of my coat and rises on the tips of her toes as I crowd her against the wall. Our lips are so close I can feel the subtle escape of her breath, and see the tip of her tongue as she wets her lips. If I drop my head a fraction of an inch, our mouths will collide.

She beats me to it, her plump lips pressing to mine in the gentlest of motions. Moving slow and carefully against each other, a soft sigh escapes between us as she opens up for my tongue. Every movement is so deliberate, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. The bitterness of the coffee we drank mingles with something sweeter.

When she drops back onto her heels, I’m shaken up. She presses the pads of her fingers against her lips. “That was nice.”

“Nice?” Kissing has always been a prelude to sex, rough and rushed and soaked in desperation. Nothing like this.

“More than nice.”

“I think we should try again.” I wind an arm around her waist, dragging her against me. Every fiber in my body feels jagged, frantic, but my movements are measured as I tangle my fingers in the back of her hair and kiss her again. This time it’s explosive, eager, needy.

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