Author: Roni Loren
“Yes,” she whispered.
His finger traced a path around her navel, raising goose bumps. “I want to feel you skin to skin, Ev. You okay with that?”
She closed her eyes, trying to steady her ragged breathing. She could think of nothing she wanted more.
“Yes . . . sir.” She added the last part not because she had to, but because it felt right. She knew she’d never call another lover that. Jace and Andre owned her even if she couldn’t give herself to either of them for good.
He slipped his hands under her knees, lifting her legs and hooking them around his hips. His cock nudged her entrance, the feel of the smooth, bare head making her whimper in need. He rocked his hips forward, sliding into her heat with a groan. “Oh, Ev.”
His body trembled against her as he held himself still inside her. She was still tender from her earlier lovemaking with Andre, but the feel of Jace filling her, no barrier between them, was like having the sweetest, most luscious piece of chocolate melting on her tongue.
“God, you feel like heaven.” He sank onto his forearms, the length of his body pressing against hers, and captured her mouth in a breathless kiss. She tangled her fingers in his hair, letting her ache for him pour into the kiss. His hips slowly began to move, fucking her with his cock as well as his mouth.
Every time he eased his pelvis back in that slow rhythm, her inner muscles clenched, missing his presence the second he was gone. She moved her hands to his shoulders, her nails digging into the honed muscles, a silent plea for him to take her all. To take her hard. To make her forget about tomorrow.
He broke away from the kiss. “You okay, baby? I don’t want to hurt you. I know you and Andre . . .”
A hot flash of shame lit up her cheeks at the reminder she’d already slept with one man tonight. Her gaze darted away from his. She mumbled, “I’m fine.”
“Hey.” He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t you dare be embarrassed. I’m not Daniel. I won’t make you pay for something I gave you permission to do.”
“I’ve never been with Andre without you there. I didn’t know how you’d—”
“Did you enjoy it?”
She bit her lip. “Yes.”
“You love him?”
She tried to look away again, but he held her chin firm. “I—I can’t love you both.”
“Says who, baby?” He ran a thumb over her lips. “We both love you back. Fuck the rules.”
She blinked away fresh tears.
“And you know what it fucking does to me thinking of you two rolling around in that studio of yours?” His cock flexed inside of her, answering for him. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to watch.”
She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. “We took pictures.”
“Ah, hell,” he said, the agony of restraint crossing his features. He thrust into her hard enough to make her cry out. “You drive me crazy, Ev. If you’re sore, you better tell me now, ’cause otherwise, I’m ready to fuck you into next week.”
“Do it,” she begged. “Please.”
“Grab the headboard and don’t let go,” he ordered. He lifted himself to a kneel and shoved her knees toward her chest, spreading her so wide she thought she might break, and then he plunged deep.
She moaned so loud she worried she’d wake those in the neighboring rooms. The position seated him so gratifyingly deep. He planted his palms on the back of her thighs, holding her in place, and fucked into her with erotic brutality.
Her eyelids wanted to fall shut, the wallop of sensations overwhelming, but she didn’t want to miss the view. The ferocity burning in Jace’s green eyes, the golden skin now glazed with sweat, the muscles bunching in his chest. God, how would she ever be able to go back to not having him? Her fingers strangled the simple square slats of the headboard as she forced all thoughts away and let herself fall into the moment.
Jace changed the angle, set her ankles on his shoulders, and freed his hands so that he could touch her clit while he continued to move inside her. Her entire being seemed to contract at the first touch to the swollen nub, his cock simultaneously rubbing against a spot inside her that sent a zing through her nerve endings. Oh, my.
The corner of his mouth rose in a wicked smirk as if to say, Gotcha.
Before she’d met the two guys, she’d determined that the G-spot was a myth. But just like with everything else, Jace and Andre blew what she thought she’d known about herself out of the water.
“Jace,” she pleaded as he continued his dual assault, her knuckles aching from her grip. “Sir, I don’t know if I can—”
“Go for it, baby,” he said, short of breath himself. “Come for me.”
Her breath wheezed out as she let the tide take her under. The feel of his cock, his fingers, her still stinging bottom, the burn of her muscles from the position, all of it swirled into one massive ball of electricity, pulsing through her with relentless force. Then he hit that internal spot again and everything burst through the seams.
Her scream seemed yanked from the core of her being as the orgasm claimed her body. Words, some intelligible some not, spewed from her lips. She called his name, she called him sir, she called to God . . . but when she called out I love you, Jace went over his own precipice.
Fluid, hot and sweet, jetted into her, and his groan joined hers as they tumbled into oblivion together.
Afterward, he rolled off her and gathered her against him, spooning her with his large body. Minutes passed and she thought he’d dozed, but his quiet voice slipped in her ear. “Thank you for that. I’ve never gone bare since I was with you the first time.”
Her lips parted. “What? Not your wif—”
“Condoms for birth control.” He nuzzled her neck. “I’m so glad you were my first.”
The sentiment tugged at her, made her heart ache. How was she going to do what she needed to do? She retreated to the safety of teasing. “Me, too. I thought it was impossible for me to be your first anything, Mr. Experience.”
He snorted. “Are you calling me a slut?”
She waggled her rear against his crotch. “Nah, I was thinking more man whore.”
He pinched her butt. “Smartass.”
“Said the pot to the kettle.”
He kissed her shoulder. “How ’bout being my first love? Does that count for something? ’Cause you’ve been holding that title for a long time, Ev.”
She looked away. “I was just a dumb kid, Jace.”
“We both were, but that doesn’t mean my love for you was any less real.” His voice clogged with emotion. “I can’t even tell you what it was like when I woke up the next day and realized you were gone—that I might never see you again.”
Dread curled in her stomach. He rolled her over to face him, but she couldn’t look him in the eye.
He pushed the dampened hair off her forehead. “Ask me to stay, Evan. Ask me to stay, and we’ll face whatever tomorrow brings together. Don’t run away from me again.”
The soft plea in his voice wrecked her. Ripped out her heart and left it beating helplessly in his hands.
She couldn’t answer, so she kissed him long and deep, lacing her fingers in his hair, holding him against her, memorizing the feel of him, his scent. Imprinting every nuance on her brain.
Because of all the commands he’d given her, he’d finally given the one she couldn’t obey.
An hour later, he was asleep and she was dressed and packed. She took one last look at him sprawled over the bed, his chest rising with steady breaths, his face smoothed of worry. A picture she knew she’d never be able to erase from her memory.
Then she opened the door and walked away. Leaving her heart behind with him.
TWENTY-FIVE
Jace stretched an arm across the bed, reaching for warmth, for Evan, but his hand hit the nightstand before he found anything solid. And without even opening his eyes, he knew. Knew she wasn’t in the shower or downstairs getting a cup of bad hotel coffee.
She was gone.
He hadn’t been enough to keep her there.
He rolled onto his back, disappointment enveloping him like an oil slick, weighing down his limbs and coating his throat. He’d lost her again.
She’d told him she loved him back. He’d believed her. But she’d left anyway to go take the goddamned fall for a friend, sacrificing her own chance at something true. All to keep a promise? Or was that just an excuse to let Jace down easy? If Daniel wasn’t in the picture, would Evan have given something with him and Andre a real go?
He’d offered Evan everything he had—his heart on a silver platter complete with a little sprig of parsley and an I love you. And she’d turned tail anyway.
He stared at the ceiling, the hazy light of dawn shifting across and changing shades as the sun rose higher and peeked through the parted curtains. The jet-engine blast of the hotel’s air conditioner offered an ear-numbing soundtrack to his warring thoughts. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
Every ounce of caveman in him demanded that he get his ass out of bed and go after her. Track her down and cuff her to him until she agreed to give him another chance. Show her he could make her happy. But he’d made the mistake of chasing a woman who didn’t really want him. Once.
He wasn’t going to have his nuts handed to him again. He’d pursued Diana until she’d given in. She’d played his ego with PhD level expertise—an intricate dance that had hypnotized Jace into believing that he was the only man for her. The only one who could take care of her the way she needed. She’d exploited his need to feel capable, the need to prove he could be someone’s hero and not just the family screw up.
Looking back, he could see how manipulative and unstable she’d been. His divorce attorney had called Diana a borderline personality—needy, attention-seeking, emotionally destructive. But Jace had fallen in love and stumbled right into the snare she’d set out for him. He’d spent the marriage like a lovesick idiot trying to be Mr. Ultimate Husband. She’d spent it emptying his bank account and fucking the guy she really wanted.
Never would he let himself be humiliated like that again. If Evan thought her designer imposter relationship with Dr. Dan was what would make her happy, then so be it. Jace was done campaigning otherwise. Evan had proven the mantra he’d been preaching for the last five years. He was just a good time, a fun lay, not anyone’s superhero.
And the first rule in life: Stick to what you’re good at.
Now it’d be even easier to do that. Because whatever hope for love that had survived after his divorce had officially snuck out of his hotel room without even leaving a note.
Evan sat in the lobby area of The Ranch, fastening and unfastening the clasp of her watch, the rhythm of the repeated clicking like a metronome for her frayed nerves. Breathe in. Breath out. Don’t think. Don’t feel.
She’d driven away from the hotel with no idea where she was headed, simply knowing that she couldn’t stay there and she couldn’t go home. Wherever home was anyway. Suddenly she felt like the last “home” she’d had was when her mother was alive. Everywhere else she’d lived after that, she’d been an outsider. A burden in some cases. An accessory in others.
Her car had found its way to the interstate heading out of the city without much conscious guidance from her. She had no idea if The Ranch was the kind of place you could drop into without a reservation, but it was worth a try. At least here she could hole away in some cabin and fall apart without an audience.
The front desk attendant had been nice enough when Evan had dragged her bloodshot self through the front door, her suitcase trailing after her like an I-have-no-place-to-go banner. But she’d also noticed the way the man’s eyes had assessed her wrinkled clothes, her hastily finger-combed hair. She probably looked like she should be checking into rehab instead of a resort.
