บท 39: Flames
It was amazing how kissing could make you feel so intoxicated.
Rylee grew up with fairly conservative behavior, and her experience with men was mostly limited to her ex-boyfriend. She could count the people she slept with on one hand, and had always been able to draw lines where needed to keep things from getting out of hand. She grew up shying away from such behavior, fairly believing in keeping those things for someone she loved.
When Blake left, he broke her. It felt like her heart and beliefs shattered different directions. Part of her was still reserved, but the other side knew just how easily something you loved could be taken away from you. So now when Evan kissed her it was like a drug pumping in her veins and drowning her senses. Her nerves were electrified with every touch. She wanted the safety, the intimacy, it was like she had forgotten just how good it felt to be wanted.
She could feel Evan's desire by the way his hands held her, the way his breathing grew heavier, the subtle growl that seemed to rumble in his chest when she would nip his lower lip. He was such a composed man, so being able to draw that type of noise from him delighted her. She felt guilty that she wanted to test his control, even break it. What type of temptress would that make her to do something so mischievous?
'You aren't that type of woman,' she thought. Rylee was the sweet and innocent one. So why did she love the way his hands moved down her back, fingers brushing where her shirt lifted and exposed her skin? Why was she dying to feel his hands roam everywhere else?
"If you do anything to your stitches, we will both be beaten alive by Tara and Zane," Evan whispered against her lips. The muscles in his jaw were tight with the effort to behave.
"You stop first then." She couldn't pull away, sighing as his hand glided up her back, slipping under her clothing so his palm was against her bare skin. His fingers grazed the line where her bra strap locked. It would take little effort to free her from it, removing one more barrier between them.
So close, he was so close. Should she push or resist?
"Around you, it's very hard to behave," Evan admitted.
They were on the edge of falling, spiraling deeper together. Her brain was muddled, unsure how she wanted it to end.
He pulled away finally so he was looking into her eyes. After considering for a moment, he surprised her and slipped from her grasp, climbing off the couch. The air was suddenly cold in his absence, but it lasted for only a moment when she felt herself scooped back into his arms. She grasped her arms around his neck to hold on, surprised.
"Where are you—"
His mouth found hers again, stopping her question. The next thing she knew she was gently set down, finding herself on Evan's bed. He must have seen the nervous expression on her face because he smiled reassuringly and kissed her forehead.
"I already told you we can't make your injury worse. But at least this is more comfortable than that stupid couch."
Rylee laughed, reaching up to stroke the side of his face. She sighed happily when he laid down next to her, reclaiming her against his side. Their kisses slowed, and Evan maneuvered the blankets so she was curled up next to him, sharing his pillow. Somehow, this felt even more meaningful than if they had given into their desires. The flames had calmed, settling her side her to a steady glow.
"Stay," he whispered the word against her neck, leaving a little trail of kisses anywhere he could reach.
Rylee closed her eyes, interlocking her hand with his, "I don't think I ever want to leave again."
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