Page 48 of False Assumptions

His hand drifted to her breast again, and she rolled back a little so her mouth could find his. He kissed her, but pulled away before she was ready for him to. Turning her back onto her side, he pressed another kiss to her shoulder. “Stay here, just like this.”

She looked back over her shoulder, but he wasn’t going far. Things rustled on his nightstand followed by the distinct sound of a condom wrapper ripping open, and seconds later he was behind her again, one arm sliding under her neck, the other hand stroking down her hip to her thigh, lifting her leg to give him access.

He slid inside her in one smooth motion, his earlier attentions having left her wet and ready for him. It didn’t take long. Not with him. And this week he’d gotten even better at learning what she liked best, getting her off quickly and easily. Unless he was in the mood to tease. Then he brought her to the edge over and over before letting her fall. And while she hated it when he did that, she also loved it, the climax so intense it stole her breath as well as her sanity.

But this—this was long and slow and easy. She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of him stroking in and out of her, his hand sliding over her skin. She felt … cared for. Known. Loved.

Her eyes popped open when that word entered her head, and she shoved it away. No. This wasn’t that. He was just good in bed. Really good. And really good at reading her, because he noticed that she stiffened.

“What’s wrong?” His lips brushed her shoulder again. “Is this not good for you?”

He paused, shifting, then thrust into her again. And oh, God. “No, it’s good. That’s good. Oh, God.”

Without his hand supporting it, she’d let her leg drift closed, which made him seem even larger and changed the angle enough that each thrust had him rubbing over her G-spot. With that going on, she couldn’t remember what had distracted her from this, from him, right now.

His free hand edged between her thighs again, sliding over her clit in time with his movement. He increased his pace, but maintained his long, easy strokes, making her feel every inch. Why hadn’t they done this before? This was amazing. He made her feel amazing.

“You getting close? I can feel your pussy clenching on my cock. Yeah, darlin’. That’s it.” His dirty talk did things to her that she never would’ve thought possible. Normally that kind of thing seemed crude and disgusting. But when he started talking to her like that in the heat of the moment. Sweet baby Jesus. It made her get the rest of the way there. Every. Time.

“Come on, Layla. Come for me. Come for me now.”

As though waiting for his command, she came, his name falling from her lips. He was right behind her, plunging into her hard a few times before reaching his own shuddering climax, his arms clamped around her, clutching her against him like he’d never let go. Even after he stilled, his arms didn’t loosen. But she didn’t mind, because there wasn’t anywhere else she’d rather be right now than in his arms, in his bed. If she could stay here forever, she’d be happy.

She sighed when he loosened his arms and extricated himself to deal with the condom. She knew it was necessary, but without his body pressed against her, she was suddenly cold. Rolling onto her back, she pulled the covers up over her to trap their heat while she could.

Evan sat back on the bed next to her, his fingers moving her hair off her forehead and drifting down to caress her cheek. The look in his eyes was almost sad as they followed the path of his fingers and settled on her mouth. He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers, a dim smile on his face as he pulled back.

“I don’t want to take you back to your apartment today.”

Ah, so that was the problem. “I don’t want to go back either.” She lifted the blankets in invitation, and he slid in next to her, pulling her against him so that her head lay on his shoulder. She couldn’t resist running her hand over his torso, tracing over the bumps and ridges of his muscles. He flexed, making everything stand out in high relief, and she chuckled.

“Show off.”

He kissed her head. “Only for you.”

They stayed in bed cuddled up together for almost an hour before Evan’s stomach growled too many times. Laughing, she sat up. “Let’s go get breakfast. Your stomach is going to start digesting itself soon if we don’t get you some sustenance.”

He pulled her back down, rolling over so he trapped her beneath him and kissed her breathless. When he pulled back, he stared down into her eyes. “I wish I could say that you’re the only sustenance I need, but I am really hungry.”

“Aw. You’re so sweet.” She said it mockingly, but his comment actually melted her heart. He really was sweet. This whole week had been blissful. And not just the sex, though that would be enough to get that adjective on its own. No, it was the hundreds of little things he did or said that showed he cared. Reading her favorite books so he could talk about them with her. Making a late night ice cream run because she had a craving for salted caramel ice cream. Showing her the exercises to help her ankle. And saying sweet things like that.

She’d started the week thinking she’d take Megan’s advice and have lots of hot sex. Sure, she liked Evan. He was a nice guy. But this week had been so much more than just hot sex with a nice guy. The longer she spent with him, the more attached to him she became. And now this felt deep and meaningful. Real.

What would she do when he decided to move on?

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