Page 1 of Written in the Charts

PROLOGUE

Gypsy

Evan’s hands were like ice, still chilly from outdoors. We were so horny we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

The minute we walked into the apartment after dinner, he was pawing at my clothing, begging me to take it off. He had me pinned against the wall in the living room just outside the hallway entrance.

The room was dark, but I could see the outline of his face in the hint of light cast by the moon through the picture window.

He was ravenous.

“God, I want you.” Evan’s hot breath against the skin on my neck made the hair on my arms stand on end.

He sank his teeth into my skin, his stubble scraping along upward to my ear where he bit down on my earlobe.

I tugged at his belt, loosening it so I could open his fly. The bulge under the denim material was a treasure waiting to be unearthed, my hands just the tools to carefully extract it.

After having been apart from him for so many years, the past six months had been a whirlwind of emotion and excitement. I’d nearly lost myself in the flood of arousal and affection that swept back into my life when he came back.

“In the bedroom? It’s warmer in there.” I snickered, edging toward the hallway. Evan’s greediness had me hesitant to pull away, but as I led, he followed.

He backed me down the hall, letting me undo his pants as he gently pushed me toward the bedroom door. It got darker as we went, deeper into the apartment and further from the window.

The light was off in the bedroom, but I flicked it on as we passed by the switch. I hadn’t made the bed, so there was no need of a turndown service.

He pushed me backward onto the mattress, and I bounced, grinning and propping myself on my elbows as he tore off his sweater and tossed it aside. The bulge of his erection now protruded through the fly of his jeans, covered only by the boxers he wore, and his bare, corded chest, with taut muscles and bronzed skin kissed by the summer sun, had me biting my lip, waiting for him to climb on top of me.

He kicked off his shoes—mine had been ditched by the front door the moment we entered. While he busied himself taking off his jeans, I worked my top up over my head.

All I could think about was how amazing he would feel sliding into me, the way his cock would make my body shudder with pleasure. I tossed my shirt and rolled to the side, leaning on an elbow as he extracted himself from his boxers.

“You’re going to need to take your clothes off for this to work.” He smirked and stepped out of the last vestige of clothing he’d been wearing. I smiled at him, watching him touch himself. Then I got an idea.

“Hold on! I’ll be right back.” I sprang off the bed and bolted down the hallway, headed for the fridge. I had a can of whipped cream that would go very nicely with our lovemaking, and I wanted dessert.

I rifled around in the dark, tripping over one of my dinette chairs that I’d left out of place. I stubbed my toe and hopped on one foot, laughing as I opened the refrigerator.

The whipped cream hid behind the milk, so it took me a moment to find it, and as soon as I’d shut the door, the kitchen lights came on. I turned to see Evan standing there, smirking with his cock in his hand.

He’d followed me out, too eager to have me to stand alone in my bedroom waiting. His eyes drank me in, standing there in my skirt and bra while holding a can of whipped cream.

“That looks fun.” His playfulness egged me on, so I sprayed a bit on the palm of my hand and stepped closer to him, taking his dick in my hand and stroking him. He sucked in a breath and slowly hissed it out, the cold cream drawing a grimace then a smile.

“Oh, sorry.” I snickered, then I sprayed more whipped cream right onto him, my hand cradling his balls. “Didn’t mean to shock you with the cold. Maybe I should warm you up now?”

Slowly, I lowered until my knees hit the floor. I was so focused on enjoying the moment that I wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing. But his eyes were searching the room. I knew it the instant he put his hand on my head and backed away, his dick still covered in whipped cream.

“What are you doing?” I hadn’t even gotten a taste before he looked down at me with a scowl. His gaze turned to the kitchen counter where my bottle of prenatal vitamins sat, and my heart sank.

I felt frozen to that floor, like my knees were bolted in place. I had a million thoughts run through my mind, but the most prevalent one was how awful I felt for not having told him yet.

“Gypsy?” His shoulders slumped as his face contorted into an angry scowl. He picked up the bottle and shook his head, reading the label. “Derek? Really?” His tone was angry, ticking up a notch each time he spoke.

Evan snagged a hand towel off the counter, left there when I did dishes earlier this afternoon, and cleaned the whipped cream off his deflating cock.

I trembled, folding my hands across my lap as I sat back on my feet, knees still grinding into the linoleum. I chewed the inside my cheek. I knew I had fucked up.

“You’re pregnant, and you didn’t tell me? You didn’t think I’d want to know? After what happened before? After what happened with Misty?” Evan threw the towel into the sink and stormed out, marching down the hall to my bedroom.

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