Page 31 of False Assumptions

Chapter Fourteen

“Do you want to go back to my place or yours?” Evan started the car and looked over at Layla, waiting for her decision.

She looked at him as she finished buckling her seatbelt, her expression unreadable in the shadows of the parking lot. “Um, are your roommates home?”

“Maybe. I can check if you want. Would you rather they were or weren’t?” He didn’t like that he couldn’t see her to figure out what she might be thinking. The date had gone well, and he’d been congratulating himself on doing things right with her, but he couldn’t read her hesitation.

“No. Don’t bother them. Let’s just go to my place.”

“Perfect.” He’d hoped she would choose that so they could pick up where they left off last night and see where things went. He knew where he’d like them to go.

Anticipation had nervous energy crackling through his body as he followed Layla up the stairs to her apartment, his eyes glued to her ass that looked fantastic in the dark wash skinny jeans she’d paired with bright pink flats and a sparkly top for their date.

Once inside, she glanced at him, her eyes darting away as she set down her purse and took off her jacket. “Um, would you like some water?”

Is she nervous?The thought made him smile. Layla was usually so pulled together and self-contained that the thought of knocking her off-kilter by being in her apartment right now—where he’d been nearly every day for the last two weeks—seemed a little funny. And proved that he affected her. That made his chest swell and his blood run south. Because she affected him every bit as much. But nerves were not a problem for him.

He followed her into the kitchen and decided to dispense with this little nervous game she was playing where she offered him water and hid in the kitchen. She stood in front of the sink, filling a glass with water, a second glass already full on the counter next to her. Brushing her hair out of his way, he placed a kiss where her neck met her shoulder. She shivered. So he kissed her again, working his way up to the point of her jaw, placing a kiss behind her ear, then taking her earlobe gently between his teeth.

“Evan!” His name came out on a gasp, and she leaned into him, as though she couldn’t keep herself upright anymore.

Reaching around her, he shut off the water and took the glass out of her hand, turning her to face him so he could kiss her mouth, his hands braced on the counter behind her. God, he couldn’t get enough of kissing her. Her lips, the slight hesitation that was there every time before she capitulated and kept up with him, the way her hands gripped him. Yesterday it was his hair. Tonight her hands had made their way inside his jacket, and she clutched his shirt like she might drown if she let go.

He could make out with her, just like this, all night long. Except there were other places he wanted to kiss, to taste, to feel. To see how she reacted to his hands and his mouth elsewhere, when just this had her pupils dilating and her lids heavy, her breath coming fast and shallow, complete with little gasps and moans of pleasure.

What would she sound like when she came?

He pressed his hips into hers, letting her feel how much he wanted her. Letting go of the counter, his hands went to her back, pressing her closer to him, his fingers slipping under her shirt, skating across her bare skin. He wanted to see that silky expanse, watch his hands run over it and see the goosebumps he raised with his touch before kissing them away. Did she get darker in the summer? The thought of her in a bikini had him grinding his hips into hers even harder. He had to see her. All of her. Now.

His hands lifted, running up her sides, forcing her arms up as the fabric bunched. She broke the kiss, her eyes sharp now, focused on his face. He met her eyes, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “I want to see you. Please.”

After what felt like an eternity, but was really no more than a breath, she nodded and lifted her arms. Her shirt slipped off over her head, leaving her in a black satin bra, holding her breasts like an offering just for him. He ran his fingers over the tops of them, teasing along the edge of the cups, before caressing them fully, his mouth finding hers again.

Getting braver, her hands found their way under his shirt, and the graze of her cool fingers on his skin made him shiver. His hands roamed over her bare skin, wishing her bra was gone, and his shirt was gone, to feel her skin to skin, but he didn’t want to break the kiss or take his hands off her to take care of those things.

Layla seemed to have the same idea. Her hands came out from under his shirt, pushing the jacket off his shoulders, forcing his hands away from her for long enough to get it off. Then her fingers went to work on his buttons, and the only reason he didn’t intervene to hurry the process along was because he got to keep kissing her and touching her while she undressed him. He cradled her face in one hand, tilting her head so he could have access to her neck and jawline once more. When he would nip at her skin, her fingers faltered, fumbling with the buttons.

She finally managed to get them undone and pushed his shirt away from his shoulders, once again forcing his hands away from her. He broke the kiss this time, watching her as he peeled the shirt off his arms, enjoying the way her eyes roamed over his chest, taking in his arms, the tattoo of a compass rose on his left pec. Her fingers brushed over it, and he groaned when her lips followed, starting on his tattoo and moving over his chest.

His hands went to the clasp on the back of her bra, deftly undoing the hooks. She stilled as the band around her ribcage loosened, her hands going to the cups of her bra, holding them in place. He met her gaze, one corner of his mouth tugging up, and he referenced a conversation they had last week. “Gender equality, right? Free the nipple?”

Laughing, she shook her head, but took her hands away, the straps slipping down her arms and letting the bra fall. Unable to help himself, his hands immediately went to her breasts, holding them up. They filled his hands, and he had big hands. He ran his thumbs over her already stiff nipples, golden brown and just a few shades darker than the rest of her skin.

He needed those nipples in his mouth.

Before she could react, his hands were on her ass, and he lifted her onto the counter next to the sink once more, barely missing the full glass of water sitting there, forgotten. Much better. He only had to bend slightly to run his tongue around her nipple, holding her breast up for his attention with his hand, flicking the taut peak back and forth before latching on and sucking hard. Then he did the same thing to the other side.

She gasped and shivered, her hands clutching at his hair as he paid attention to her breasts. The kitchen was not the ideal place for this. But he was too lost in her to try to move it somewhere better, like the couch, or her bed. Hell, if it weren’t so hard, he’d settle for the floor. Anywhere he could have her laid out for him so he could worship her body like it deserved.

But he couldn’t tear himself away from her long enough to make something like that happen. He was too hungry for her, especially after getting cut short last night, and then spending the last couple of hours trying to be civilized, having conversations about school and literature, when all the while he wanted to strip her bare and sink inside her.

His mouth moved back to hers, and his hands drifted to her waistband. Still kissing her, he moved to one side enough so that he could undo the button on her jeans and slip his hand inside. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, and he stilled. When she didn’t tug his hand back out, he worked his way further inside, over her soft curls, sliding between her lips, his middle finger entering her to the first knuckle. Enough to feel how turned on she was, and gather her wetness to move it up and around and over her clit.

She shuddered under his touch, her hands tightening more around his arm as his fingers played over her, dipping inside her again, pressing further inside, out again and over her clit, repeating the motions over and over.

Breaking the kiss, he pulled back to watch her, wanting to see what she looked like as she got closer to the edge and tipped over. Her eyes were closed and her lips parted, all pink and swollen from his kisses.

He leaned close to her ear. “Fuck, Layla. You look so sexy like this. I can’t wait to see what you look like when you come. What you feel like all wrapped around me, shuddering just like this.”