Page 85 of Friends with Benefits

But.

She wants him.

Sitting on his lap, she can feel his erection through the thin layers of fabric that separate them. His body wants her, too. It feels so good. Wanting. Being wanted. Evie releases his hands. Needs her own to remove his suit jacket, to loosen his tie, to work the buttons of his shirt because it’s unbearable how many layers are between them. She rises onto her knees to remove his button-up, her execution clumsy. Sort of like the first pass of new choreography. Evie’s fingers run through the hair that lightly covers his chest before pressing her palm against his skin to feel his heart’s erratic thrum. She always loved learning choreography. The permission it gave them to touch each other without it meaning anything.

Touching Theo doesn’t have to mean anything.

Their lips part.

Theo looks up at her as his chest rises and falls in her hand. “If we’re… If this is…” Evie doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Waits for him to say it. Again.We can’t.He bites his lower lip and even the wrinkle in his brow is so tender. “Tomorrow?” he continues. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen.”

It’s the first time he has ever acknowledged it.

The last time.

When she was intoxicated by grief and he tasted like peppermint schnapps.

“Theo—”

“Please,” he whispers. “It’s exhausting. Pretending I don’t want you.”

Her heart stutters.

You.

You.

You.

Evie wraps her arms around his neck. “I’m exhausted, too.”

She hopes that’s enough of an answer and is relieved when he claims her mouth with his, kissing her with reckless abandon. Evie has spent so many years downplaying her attraction, convincing herself it’s normal for a filthy thought to enter her head if he looks at her a certain way, insisting that this could never happen. But it is. Tomorrow is a tomorrow problem. Tonight?

She has Theo.

His hands return to her body, but he keeps the layer of satin between their skin as they roam up her silhouette. Theo is slow with his touch. Intentional. He cups one of her breasts. Brushes her nipple with a thumb.Such a tease. Evie can tease, too. She reaches between them and traces the outline of his cock, then bites his lip before breaking the kiss and bringing her hand between her own legs.God.Evie is warm. Wet. Out of control. So turned on as Theo watches her touch herself with the same attentive expression that he once gave to learning choreography, then lowers his hands to her hip dips as she settles back onto his lap. She used to be self-conscious of the divot where her hips meet her thighs.

Now?

Evie grinds against him in response, loving that his hands naturally gravitate to this part of her body. Every time their lips touch, she considers it a tragedy that she hasn’t spent her whole life kissing Theo Cohen. In the morning, she’llremember every reason why… but right now? His tongue silences every logical brain cell, allowing this untenable want to bloom into something dangerous.

He bunches satin in his fists.

A question.

Evie nods against his lips.

An answer.

Theo unzips her dress, and in one fluid motion, it’s over her head and on the floor. She shivers, freezing and on fire as he flips her onto her back. She closes her eyes. Anticipates how good Theo will feel on top of her. Is impatient. Where is he? Why is he not on top of her? Frustrated, her eyes flutter open to find him looking at her like he wants to savor every moment of this. Evie’s breath catches in her throat as she watches his eyes move down her body with intention, lingering on the swell of her breasts, the music notes on her ribs, the ink on her hip that’s only partially exposed.

“A new tattoo?”

“No.”

Evie lowers the band of her underwear just enough to reveal a tiny torch etched into her right hipbone. Her second tattoo. An impulsive decision made at eighteen, a week after he boarded a plane to New York. She chose a discreet placement to permanently etch him onto her skin. Theo curses under his breath. Of course he recognizes the symbol from their favorite show.

“Evelyn Bloom, if I had known you had a literal torch for me…”

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