She pushed his jacket from his shoulders. "So are you. Not only beautiful, but a good man too. In every way."
"I'm not."
Her heart squeezed at the pain and guilt in his voice. "How can I make you see that you are?"
"If only I'd been able to not look at you," he said, almost to himself. "To not see how beautiful you are." He took her hand, lifted it to his chest, as though she could absolve him of his crimes if only he confessed. "The Halloween party. I saw you there." A muscle jumped in his jaw. "I wanted you there. Wanted you with everything I am."
"I felt your eyes on me." She put her hands to his face, made sure he was looking into her very soul. "I wanted you too. With all my heart. And I'm not sorry or guilty for the way I feel about you."
"Paige."
Her name was still on his lips as he gathered her close again and kissed her like he'd been waiting forever for her.
The way she'd been waiting forever for him.
He trailed his fingers down her face, along her throat, over her back to her hips. His fingertips played along the small bare patch of skin between her jeans and her sweater. A beat later, her sweater came off, her jeans quickly following, until she was in nothing but panties and bra.
"God." His voice was reverent. And full of the most delicious lust. "Do you know how many times I've imagined you just like this?" He skimmed his hands over her body without actually touching, and yet electricity arced between them. "Today, on the plane, you were all I could think about. I wanted to kiss you. Touch you. Strip you bare and love every inch of you with my hands." He traced a finger along the sky-blue lace edge of her bra. "With my mouth." His lips dropped to swells of her breasts.
Paige threaded her fingers through his hair and arched up into him as he brushed the gentlest, the sweetest--and the filthiest--kisses along her flushed skin.
Her breath was coming in short pants when he finally lifted his head again. "You." It was all she could get out at the moment. "Naked."
Her hands trembled from the force of her need as she reached for his shirt and slipped the buttons free. She'd seen him without his shirt during pool parties and barbecues, but when she pushed the crisp blue cotton from his shoulders, she lost her breath.
Finally--finally!--she could touch him, run the flat of her hands over his warm, tanned skin, his corded arms, his broad shoulder muscles. At long last, she could lean in and brush her lips over his chest. Kiss the hot flesh over his beating heart.
The more she touched, the more she tasted, the more she wanted. And her hands no longer shook as she undid the top button of his slacks, then slid the zipper down.
"I want to touch you." She licked her lips, watched as his eyes moved to her mouth, his gaze hungry. "I need to touch you."
"What are you waiting for?"
He was right. She was done waiting.
They both were.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself flush to him. Skin to skin, chest to chest, heart to heart.
She tilted her head back so she could see his face. So he could see the flush of desire on hers. "Love me, Evan. I don't want to wait any longer."
Her words galvanized him. After tossing the covers back, he picked her up and almost tossed her onto the bed, climbing up over her. Then he slowed everything down, trailing his hands up her stomach, making her quiver. "So much pretty lace." He edged her bra with his finger, dipping inside to caress her nipple. Dragging the lace down a centimeter at a time, he leaned in to take her aroused flesh between his lips.
His mouth. God, it was good. So good. Better than anything else had ever felt.
She arched against him, holding his hips down to her, rubbing herself against him as he tasted her.
He snapped the front clasp of her bra and pushed the cups aside. "You're so soft, so perfect." He traced his tongue between the two peaks, and she cried out, sensation streaking down to her center, out to her limbs, making her fingers and toes tingle.
He slid the straps down her arms and pulled the bra from beneath her, tossing it away. Then he brushed down her belly again, until he reached the lace panties. With the tip of one finger, he traced the line of her sex. She shivered, moaned, as he leaned into her, sucking on her throat, licking her.
Then he slid inside the panties and found her center.
"Jesus. You're so wet, so ready for me." He kissed her hard, stroking again, just barely touching her overheated skin as she shook with need. "I need to be inside you." His fingers delved deep, and she gasped.
"Yes." She was almost incoherent as she pressed hard into his hand. She had just enough brainpower left to tug his boxers down. With her feet, she kicked them off his legs. And then she did what she'd long dreamed of, curling her fingers into a fist around him and stroking.
"Sweetheart, you're killing me."
"Then take me, Evan. Now."
"I need to taste you first." He hauled her up the bed until her head was on the pillow and kissed her lips, tasting deep. "Every inch of you." He trailed his tongue around the shell of her ear, and she dug her fingers into his arms. "I can't get enough of you." He kissed down her throat, her chest, lavishing her with tongue and mouth, teasing her breasts.
She writhed beneath him. "Evan, please."
She was begging him for all of it--his mouth between her legs, his body inside her, his heart open to hers. She'd dreamed of him for too long, watched him for too many years, knowing he would never be hers, never touch her, never kiss her. Yet he'd owned her soul almost from the moment she'd seen him.
And now they were here. Together. Loving each other.
At last.
But he didn't rush as he layered kisses down her stomach. And he was right, the extra little bit of anticipation only made it better. Hotter.
She rubbed her hands up and down his arms, over his back, ran her fingers through his hair, growing desperate as he reached for her panties and slowly stripped them down her thighs. She was going to burst, was going to explode if she had to wait one more sec--
He swiped over her with his tongue, and she nearly came off the bed, almost shattered into a million little pieces with just that one small wet lick over her most sensitive flesh.
"More," she whispered, the word close to a sob.
He twirled around her with his tongue, excited all her cells into wild, crazy motion. Suckling and licking and tantalizing and turning her into a mindless creature that couldn't think, only feel. And beg.
"Please, Evan. Please."
Her hips moved beneath him, pushing him. She climbed higher, reaching for the fire in the sky. He clamped his hands on her hips and held her tighter, so close that she couldn't feel any space between them.
Then he slid his fingers inside, and she lost conscious thought, lost everything but the ability to scream, losing herself completely to him.
The same way she had so very long ago, from nothing more than his smile.
*
Evan had never known lovemaking could be like this.
There was so much joy in touching Paige, so much wonder in kissing her, so much beauty in tasting her. He loved her voice, loved her abandon, loved that she seemed to crave the things he did to her.
He'd needed her for so long and never known it.
No, that wasn't true. He'd just never wanted to admit it. He'd been able to admit only that he enjoyed being with her, talking to her, listening to her, exploring her mind, sharing books and laughter with her.
He'd never let himself question why she brought him so much happiness, because questioning would have destroyed the life he'd so carefully built.
Only to have it implode anyway.
Tonight he was asking only for a few precious hours of joy. A few stolen moments with a woman who had never hurt him, could never hurt him. All he wanted was the chance to hear Paige's cries of ecstasy...and to forget everything but her, for one perfect night.
"Show me," he whispered. Her reaction to his caresses had been an epiphany. "Show me how
to do that. How to let go of everything and just feel."
"You already know how." She took his arms in her hands, drew him up until he hovered over her.
He looked into her eyes and realized she was right. "I do."
But only with her.
Everything he was, everything he ever wanted, everything he ever needed, came down her. To this moment when he moved inside her. To the heat of her slick skin around him. To the breathless press of his body deep into hers. To the heady sound of her gasps, her moans, her long, low sigh, as if she was finally exactly where she was meant to be.
Evan closed his eyes to feel her fully, shifting so that he grazed the spot inside that made her shiver and quake. Then her muscles contracted around him in pure heaven, and he had to see her again. Had to look into her eyes as her pupils dilated and his name fell from her lips.
His body ached for faster, harder. But he wanted to hear her scream again, to know he could make her as happy as she'd always made him.
She panted as he thrust deep, dug her fingers into his arms, rolled with his body. The muscles of his arms quivered and strained as he held them straight to drive slowly, deeply again, to caress her inside and out.
She pulled her legs up to his waist and threw her head back. "Evan," she cried out, her body spasming around him, her nails scoring the skin on his arms.
Her pleasure broke him apart, stole the last of his self-control as her climax exploded around them both.
He saw stars. He felt bliss. He reached heaven.
All because she took him there with her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
"I can't believe I actually screamed." Paige laughed, her entire body brimming with joy. With ecstasy. With love. "Twice."
Evan's chest rose and fell beneath her ear as he cuddled her close. He'd pulled the covers over them, and his body was deliciously warm and hard against hers.
"You did scream. And I loved it. My fantasy finally came true."
Paige knew what that meant, that Whitney had never screamed. Likely because her sister was always so worried about looking and sounding good, even during sex.
No. Paige wouldn't let Whitney intrude on this precious moment. Wouldn't ruin everything by comparing herself to her sister.
He pushed the tangled hair back from her face. "I want to hear you scream my name again." He rolled her beneath him. "I want to exhaust you so that you fall asleep in my arms, and then I get to wake you up in the middle of the night and do it all over again."
Her heart melted like a chocolate bar in the sun, and she felt positively gooey inside. For nine years, she'd dreamed of hearing Evan say words like these. Dreamed of finally telling him her feelings for just as long.
I love you.
For the first time, she thought it might almost be possible to say it.
"I want you to do that," she said in a low voice, "but first I want to do it to you."
Surprise had only just registered on his gorgeous face when she pushed at his chest. "Lie back." She shoved the covers aside, and in the city lights through the window, he was so magnificent, it was hard to draw breath. "I can hardly believe it," she found herself whispering. "That you're here with me. That I'm here with you."
He was already aroused again, and as she stroked his body, gliding her palm lightly over his skin from chest to abdomen, then skimming down to his thighs, he grew harder still.
"Look what you do to me." His voice was rough. Raw. As full of need as she was.
She reveled in her joy. In the knowledge that he wanted her, really wanted her. She wasn't just a fill-in for someone else.
He wanted her for herself.
"I want to lick you like an ice cream cone."
His breath rushed out. "Jesus, Paige. Just hearing you say that..." She trailed her fingers up his thighs. "Have me. I'm yours." The need--the emotion--threading through his voice was another miracle.
They'd had friendship, common interests, and like minds. Now they had this aching desire too...and a connection that ran so deep she swore it touched not just her heart, but her soul too.
His words--I'm yours--resonated through every part of her as she put her mouth on him.
"Paige." Then he swore, and even those four letters were music.
She took all of him then, and his body quaked, his groans growing hoarse and guttural. His hips rose to meet her as she took him deeper.
Then he tangled his hands in her hair, his body moving to meet her lips as he called out her name. Shouted it. Her name, no one else's by mistake. She was the only woman in this room with him, the only one he wanted.
And he was the only man she'd ever needed like this.
After, she climbed his body, felt his arms close around her. Then he raised a hand to take her chin in his fingers and kissed her so deeply that the room spun around her.
She smiled against his lips. "I made you shout."
"Hell yes, you did." He pulled the covers over their cooling bodies and drew her closer against him.
She'd never seen him this relaxed. This satisfied. And, oh, was she ever satisfied too.
"I've dreamed of this," he murmured in a low voice. "Needed this. Needed you."
"It's all I've ever wanted," she said, but when he didn't respond, she wondered if he'd spoken from near-sleep. A place where the truth could finally come out, where his subconscious mind could finally take control for a few hours.
"You're so sweet in my arms. So soft. So warm. I don't want you to go."
"I won't." Leaving was the very last thing she wanted.
"Just a little while longer."
Paige was almost asleep now too. She tried to rouse, to listen to what he was saying, but it was impossible when she was exhausted not only from their beautiful lovemaking, but from the emotional angst of the preceding week.
"Just until morning."
Morning. He was saying something about the morning. But she refused to allow real life to steal so much as one moment of the night's fantasy. Instead, there was only this, his body against hers as he moved to his side, shifting her until her back was to his chest, one hand over her heart.
A heart that beat only for him.
*
He was doing it again, making her wild and crazy with his large, talented hands roaming over her body.
The morning sun tapped at her eyelids, but she didn't want to know what time it was. Didn't want to face what "morning" might mean.
She wanted this. His hands on her, his lips, his warmth. Wanted all the beautiful, heartfelt things he'd said last night.
I'm yours.
He skimmed his fingers across her breasts, exciting the peaks to tight buds, then down her belly and over her sex. Gently--hungrily--he pulled her leg up over his, opening her to his touch.
It was pure instinct to put her hand over his, guiding him. She loved the feel of their linked fingers, the combination of both his caress and her own.
He pressed a hot kiss to her neck. "Good morning."
"So good," she said. More like moaned as he nipped at her neck, sending tantalizing shivers through her body.
A kernel of fear tried to bubble up, worry that this would be the last time, and she needed everything before it all went away. But she knew better. Lovemaking based on fear held no love at all. So she shoved that darkness away as she turned in his arms, wrapped hers around his neck, and kissed him deeply.
They rolled together on the bed, a passionate tangle of arms and legs, until he was sitting up in bed and her legs were wrapped around him, her arms curled at his neck.
She looked deep into his eyes and then, holding his heated gaze, she took him inside. All of him in one gloriously slick, hot thrust that stole her breath. And made everything inside her melt again.
Together they began to move, her body slowly rising on him, stroking all the nerves on the inside. His tongue entered her mouth as his body plundered hers, the pace deliciously, agonizingly slow. They rocked and rolled together, their mouths feasting on each other,
arms tight, bodies fitting together like a hand and glove.
She rode him, and he took her, her breath quick as they writhed and undulated sinuously, their bodies growing slippery. Until finally the pleasure was too great, and she had to move faster, matching the rhythm of her hips to the rapid beat of her heart.
She threw her head back, dragging in air, and he bit down lightly on the soft skin between her shoulder and neck, marking her.
"Evan." His name falling from her lips sounded wild, sexy, sultry, crazy, and so unlike her. So unlike the woman she used to be, before the greatest pleasure she'd ever known.
She heard him cry out her name, and he sounded just as raw, just as desperate as she had. Then she was beyond thinking, could feel only a million bursts of pleasure multiplying, spreading, shooting throughout her body until they became a wondrous cataclysm of ecstasy.
Until the only sound she could make was the three words she'd been holding back for what seemed like forever. They could no longer stay locked inside as she leaped from the peak and tumbled down into bliss.
"I love you."
Chapter Twenty-Four
I love you.
They were the most beautiful words Evan had ever heard.
And the most terrifying.
He tightened his hold on Paige, their limbs still fused as they breathed with what felt like one breath.
There was no question, no doubt that what they'd shared had been so far beyond just sex. It was communion, connection, total intimacy.
But was it love?
Even as Paige lay in his arms--the one woman who would never lie to him, who simply didn't have it in her to do so--he couldn't shake away all the lies he'd been told too many times before in his life. Couldn't forget how badly love could go wrong. That the people who said they loved him might eventually change their minds...and abandon him.
"It's not a bad thing." Her whisper was like a soft caress inside and outside. "I've always loved you. Since forever."
He felt her words, felt her, in the very place he knew better than to let himself feel. No one knew better than he did that it was so much smarter, so much safer to keep the walls around his heart.
She lifted her face to his and cupped his jaw with warm hands. "I'm not asking for anything." She stroked her thumb over his bottom lip, and he had to open his eyes to the beauty of her gaze as she opened her soul to him. "I know your world is upside down right now. I know you probably think this, us, is crazy. And I know you need time to process."