“Something like that.”
I lower my lips to the top of her hand and deposit a soft kiss.I look up into those steadfast eyes.
“Today’s the day, Phoebe.”
CHAPTER 30
Phoebe
Oh, boy.
Apparently, I lied just a moment ago, when I assured Evander he’s not the swoon-worthy kid from my sixth-grade poems.
Because.
He.
Is.
And here I am, still swooning, after all these years.
But that’s just the starting point.
I’m vibrating from head to toe.Buzzing with desire and emotion.I’m squeezing my thighs together, but it’s pointless.
My switch has been flipped.All the way on.
I watch Evander backlit by the fire.The rugged lines of his face, the musculature of his shoulders and arms, the power in his neck.He is a very big man, a strong one.But he’s impossibly sweet with me.
I can’t defend myself against this Evander, the one with the shadow of a beard and the tousled, raven-black hair that seems to have a mind of its own.
The one who listens patiently.Smiles at me.Isn’t in a rush to be somewhere or irritated because he can’t find a pair of chinos that fit over his cast.
There’s no point in even trying to resist.
I see Evander in this moment, and I know I’d give him anything he wanted, let him take whatever he desires.
I feel my face flush.
Just now, when Evander pressed his lips gently to the top of my hand, it felt overly polite.Like he was a restrained gentleman, and I was the demure lady he was courting.
That didn’t last long, though.Thank you, sweet baby Cheez it!
He’s just flipped my hand over to kiss my palm.He trails his lips up the inside of my wrist like he wants to gobble me up.
I feel the hot tip of his tongue travel up the tender skin of my forearm.The slight pinch of his teeth is added to the sensations.Next, his mouth covers the crook of my arm, and I feel the barest tug of suction.
He raises his violet-blue eyes to me, like he’s making sure I’m paying attention.
Holy shit, I think he’s preparing me.Sharing what he has planned for the rest of me.He’s giving me a preview of his intentions.
Those violet eyes are focused and dangerous.One corner of his mouth curls, like he’s amused by the look of shock that must be plastered on my face.
“Wow,” I whisper, because that’s totally something a non-virgin would say.Ugh, Phoebe!
But I can’t think!I’m in a daze.Part of me worries that it’s more than that.A hypothermic coma, maybe.That I’m making all this up in the cold confusion of my poor brain.Because it cannot possibly be my life.
Can it?
