This can’t be fucking happening. I don’t behave this way with women. I shouldn’t give a damn about whether she got my text or if she’s going to respond, but it’s all I can think about.
Sheis all I can think about.
Just remembering Brad’s hand on her makes my gut tense. I should have moved in earlier. She never should have had to endure even the slightest bit of his bullshit.
The rest of the day seems to crawl by. I keep glancing at my phone, but the only calls or texts I’m getting are about our upcoming job.
She’s not gonna reply.
That’s all I can think as I pack my bag and drive back to the house. Any other girl and I would have forgotten about her by now. But Evie just sticks in my mind like a splinter, and my cock just will not go down. I have to jerk off in the shower to even put a dent in my arousal.
Bracing myself with my palm against the cool tile wall, I stroke my shaft, picturing Evie’s ass clapping back against me while I fuck her from behind. I pump a massive load onto the floor, but it’s not enough. Even as I’m gasping for breath, I still feel a desperate longing.
I need my hands onher. Not just the thoughts of her.
It’s only a couple hours later when I’m diving into a burger that my phone buzzes. It’s a text from her:
I don’t know how to do this.
I almost smile. Finally. I know plenty of guys wouldn’t respond immediately. They’d make her wait just as long. But I’m not into playing games. I write back:
You don’t have to know. I do.
Grabbing a cold beer from the fridge, I grab a seat on the couch and close my eyes.
She’s innocent. Inexperienced. Which only turns me on more. I’ll be the first one to peel those jeans off her and spread her sexy legs. I want to drag my tongue up her untouched pussy and show her what it’s like to be eaten out—make her come until my cheeks and chin are soaked with her juices.
She’ll be shy at first. But the longer I keep my tongue on her, the faster she’ll relax. I’ll bleed the anxiety out of her with pleasure and show her that she’s safe with me.
I’ll make hermine.
And if that makes me a possessive bastard, so be it. I don’t give a damn. All I care about right now is her.
I check my phone again. Evie hasn’t responded.
That’s okay. She needs time.
And when I’m done, she’ll never think of running again.
6
EVIE
I haven’t usedCharles in three days. That’s the longest I’ve ever gone.
It’s not because I don’t want to. I’m horny as hell—hornier than I’ve ever been in my life. But every time I try, my body simply refuses to cooperate. I just can’t do it without…
…him.
Dawson Clark.
Charles is great. He’s reliable and has been my rock for years. But he doesn’t have Dawson’s hands, his broad shoulders, or that gravelly voice that does funny things to my insides.
My dreams last night were nothing but him. I keep waking up, hot and sweaty under my sheets, a desperate longing between my legs. But Charles can’t cure it for me.
Only one thing can. And only Dawson has it.
I’ve been checking my phone obsessively for the last three days. Dawson’s texts are always short, direct, and never overwhelming. But I still feel like I never know what to say back. I take forever to reply, and everything I write feels cringe. Any day now he’s going to give up on me. I just know it.
