She folded her arms across her chest. “Reverse psychology isn’t going to work on me, Jer. I know what you’re doing.”
“What about straight-forward psychology?”
She bit her lip.
“Come to bed with me, Evie. I don’t want you to sleep alone.”
“You’re pretending to be worried about me? Is there something scary under the guest room bed you forgot to mention?”
Damn. She had a smart mouth.
I exhaled. “No. Nothing scary.” My shoulders relaxed. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you. I want you naked. I want you panting. I want you screaming. I want you to have as many orgasms as your sweet body can handle. I want to fuck you with my tongue first. And then when you want it, I’ll bury my cock inside you. Deep, Evie. That’s what I want. No games. No tricks. No reverse psychology. I want you. I want to spend tonight, what’s left of it, with you in my bed. Fucking you until morning. And I hope like hell you want it too.”
I walked toward the bedroom, leaving the door wide open.
20
Evie
I stood in disbelief. Every time I thought I had him figured out, I realized I didn’t. There was an easiness about him swimming beneath a layer of power and control. The carefree boy I vaguely knew in Newton Hills had been suffocated by his last name. I didn’t know it then. I didn’t think any of us did. We didn’t know what it meant to be a Hartwell. Over time his circumstances chipped away at that side. He grew up under the shadow of his father’s influence. There were glimpses of light-heartedness. Glimpses of the boy who loved baseball. The one the girls chased after and doodled his initials in their notebooks.
That was the guy I drank two bottles of wine with. The one who flirted with me and laughed about Mrs. Wratchet’s horrible class. But the man I slept with—that was the possessive one. A man who was used to getting what he wanted in life and in bed. That was the man I married. The one with an elaborate plan to have everything he wanted, including me.
Tonight, I got to choose. What did I want? How did I want our relationship to be? What was he to me?
My body made it obvious. He made my pulse race, and my panties wet. I wanted him. I wanted his promises. I wanted the way he touched me. His kisses. His voice in my ear. To touch his chiseled body under the sheets.
I looked down at the enormous rock on my left hand. I’d never seen a diamond that size on anyone. Frannie would die when she saw it. It was Hollywood size. The kind of ring reserved for the celebrity section of a bride magazine.
And it was glittering on my hand. Snugly pressed under my knuckle as if he had given it to me during an elaborate proposal. This ring deserved something extravagant and over the top.
Jeremy’s bedroom door was open. I took a small step down the hallway. The room I had claimed was on my right, but I blew past it.
I stood in his doorway.
The lights were low, but I could see his silhouette lying across the bed. I shivered
, anticipating what was going to happen next.
“Come here,” he growled.
It was as if my body floated across the floor. I was in his arms before I knew what happened. I was pulled to him like a magnet. There was an invisible thread between us that he used to reel me closer.
His fingers dug into my flesh. I found his mouth in the dark, inhaling his kiss as our tongues twined together.
He pulled me on top of him. Shit. He was already naked. I didn’t know if I was mad he had predicted what I would do, or turned on that he wanted me this much. He had an appetite for me that no other man had shown. His cock was always hard and ready for me.
He broke from the kiss. “I promised you something in the kitchen. I never break my word. Never.”
He pushed me upward so I was braced on my palms. He began to slide under me until his face was between my legs. He yanked on my pajama pants, sliding my silk panties with them.
I quivered and panted. “Jer,” I whimpered. My knees were shaky as he blew a hot breath over my folds.
“I love your pussy, Evie. So. Damn. Much.”
He ran a finger through my wet lips, separating them enough for me to feel the cool air around my clit. It hardened the instant he touched it.
His tongue flicked over it, again and again until my knees were wide and I had lowered my body to his mouth. I had abandoned shame. This man wanted me and I wanted his tongue to work its incredible magic on my body.