Page 62 of False Assumptions

Chapter Twenty-Seven

When she surged against him in response to his kiss, Evan had to pull back to make sure this was really happening. It was. He had her pressed against him, in his arms again. Thank Christ.

He lost himself in their kiss, reacquainting himself with her taste and the contours of her mouth and his hands with the contours of her body. With his mouth still on hers, he pulled her into his lap, her skirt riding up her thighs as she straddled him.

Her hands cupped his jaw, her thumbs grazing over his cheeks, then her fingers wove into his hair. With her breasts pushing into his chest, she squirmed on top of him, and he had to slide his hands under her shirt. Had to. It was an imperative as strong as the need for air.

The door of the gallery opened and closed with a clank and a whoosh. Laughter, followed by someone saying, “Holy shit!” made Evan remember where they were. He slid his hands to Layla’s hips, holding her as she slowly pulled back from their kiss, her hands coming up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide and round.

“Oh my God,” she breathed.

He couldn’t help grinning at her embarrassment, and with a quick kiss to her wrist since her mouth was unavailable, he slid her out of his lap. She buried her face in his arm, which he wrapped around her and stood. With a nod to their intruders, he led Layla in the direction of the parking lot, waiting to adjust himself until they were around the corner and no one was around.

“It’s okay. We’re alone again,” he reassured her and dropped a kiss on her head.

She looked around then up at him. “Oh my God.”

This time he chuckled, squeezing her to his side. “Is that about the kiss or the people interrupting us?”

Her mouth opened and she stopped walking, looking around before meeting his eyes with a sly smile. “Both.”

He kissed her again. But this one didn’t last as long because she pulled back, wiping her lower lip with her hand. “We can’t keep doing this here, Evan. If people are coming out of the reading already, more will be behind them soon. I’m really not an exhibitionist.”

Laughing, he tugged her in the direction of his car. “Fine. Let’s go to my place then. We won’t have an audience there.”

She hesitated for the barest second, but came along. “What about your roommate?”

“Hang on.” He stopped, pulling his phone from his pocket with his free hand, never letting her go. After their extended separation, he didn’t want to stop touching her for even a second, even if texting was slower with one hand. After he put his phone away, he looked up at her, noticing a dopey smile on her face. “What?”

Trying to force her grin away, she shook her head. “Nothin’ you haven’t heard before, I’m sure.”

He pulled her close, looking down at her, making a halfhearted effort at using his size to intimidate the answer out of her. Not that it would ever work on Layla anyway. “Tell me.”

“Nah.” She ran her hand up his chest, biting her lip. “Your head’s big enough. You don’t need me to stroke your ego.”

A groan rumbled in his chest. “I can think of something else I need you to stroke.”

Layla gave him a coy look. “I think we might be able to arrange that. It’s more fun than stroking your ego anyway.”

Wrapping his arms around her, Evan laughed and kissed her again. “Christ, I’ve missed you.” He released her and threaded his fingers through hers. “C’mon, let’s go. I’m tired of waiting.”

She tsked. “So impatient.”

But the smile fell away from her face when he gave her a look, her face mirroring the desire in his. “Yes. Very impatient.”

Once inside his apartment, his hands went to her hips, and he guided her into his room, her legs buckling when the backs of her knees hit his bed. She fell back, and he leaned over to kiss her, urging her farther up. Kicking off her shoes, she followed his silent directions, scooting herself back until her head hit the pillow.

His hand fell to her thigh, hiking up her skirt so he could get to the soft skin underneath. His other hand tangled in her hair to hold her head in place. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, finding hers briefly, then kissed a line down her jaw to her neck, licking and sucking on the sweet skin there. His teeth sunk into the soft flesh of her earlobe, provoking a gasp from her. She arched under him.

He wanted to tear her clothes off. His clothes too. He wished they were both naked already. That he was inside her. Sinking in, feeling her come, making her his again. He took her mouth again. His fingers plunged inside her. Her hips arched off the bed with a groan. But he pulled back out, trying to yank her panties off her legs. He growled in frustration, almost frantic with his desire to feel her again. Until her hands smoothed up his chest, steady and warm, and, cupping his face again, she broke the kiss.

Her lips were red and puffy, and her brown eyes were dark and warm. A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Hey. Slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. “Sorry.”

She gave him a full smile now. “It’s okay. I understand. And while it sounds sexy to fantasize about getting your clothes ripped off, I’d rather you didn’t destroy what I’m wearing.”

He brushed a kiss over her lips. “Noted.” Forcing himself to slow down, he pulled the neck of her top to one side so he could kiss her collarbone, nipping at the place where her neck joined her shoulder. She gasped, twisting underneath him, and he smiled to himself. His hands went to her waist, pulling her shirt up, exposing her breasts nestled in a sheer pink bra, her nipples puckered against the fabric.

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