EVAN: Where are you?
EVAN: Do you want me to order you a drink?
ME: I’m in the bathroom. Last one in the row. Come here.
EVAN: So, no drink….?
ME:Just come to the bathroom.
As I expected, a few seconds later I hear a faint knock on the door and I open it, all six feet and three inches of him filling the large space.
“Hey, what the hell was that?" I ask, going to lock the door. When I turn back to him, I see him watching me in all the mirrors. My back is completely exposed by my black dress, so that’s probably what he’s looking at, his eyes roaming all over my body. I suddenly feel so exposed to him with the mirrors reflecting my every angle.
“What was what?" he asks innocently, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. I copy his position, my back against the sink.
“Evan,” I warn.
“Scarlett,” he purrs, the sound creating a pool of heat in my lower stomach.
"Drop the act for one fucking second and be real with me,” I say, waving my hand between us.
"What do you want me to say, Scar?" I groan, knowing that he’s playing coy with me which is the last thing I want or need.
“Why would you write a song for me and not tell me and play it in front of everyone?” I say. He chuckles lightly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“No one knows it was about you,” he replies.
“You were staringrightat me while you were playing,” I accuse and then mumble, “Which is insane because I don’t understand how you can play without looking."
He steps closer to me, my ass already digging into the countertop. “Are you trying to compliment me, sweetheart?”
I gulp. “I would never,” I say, holding my chin up to him. He doesn’t buy it, clearly, because he still stalks closer to me until he’s a breath away, his whole body covering mine. “You're the most arrogant person I've ever met.”
I shove him in the chest, seeing if he’ll back down, but he doesn’t even stumble. Instead, he unties the ribbon on his hand and grips both of my hands together, pinning them above my head. I gasp, tilting my head up to him.
“Really? That's not what you were saying the other week when my fingers were deep inside your pussyorthe other day when you were kissing me senseless,” he murmurs,seamlessly tying the ribbon over my wrists. “Tell me if it’s too tight, okay?”
“It’s not,” I gasp, needing him to give me something. Something more.
“Good,” he rasps.
The way he can switch from innocent, golden retriever to this burly, almost animalistic man, baffles me. My chest is heaving now, desperate for a taste of him, as he stares down at me while I look up, wiggling my hands in his grip. He holds on tighter to them, pushing them higher until my whole chest is stretched for him. He kisses along my neck, causing me to shudder and shift under his touch. In one swift motion, he bunches up the skirt of my dress, palming my thighs near my underwear, his huge hand wrapped around them.
“I want to know something, Scar,” he breathes into my ear, his hot breath bringing me one step closer to unravelling. I'm panting now and he’s not finishing his sentence. He's teasing me, edging me, with the slight stroke of his thumb on my thigh. “If I were to slip my hand into your panties right now, will you be as wet as I'm imagining?”
Just the sound of those filthy words on his mouth sends a rush of want straight down to where I'm waiting for him. Everything in my body lights up from the way he touches me, teases me, and mixed in with his words makes my whole body spread with goosebumps, desperate and aching with need.
“No,” I lie. I can feel it coating my thighs, begging for a release. Just being this close to him gets me hot and bothered. The silk around my wrist, knowing that I gave it to him just for him to use it to tease me.
“Don’t lie to me, Angel,” he warns, pressing a kiss to my neck as his fingers dance across the thin fabric of my panties.
“I'm not ly-” My words turn into a guttural moan as he slips his hand into my panties. My mouth hangs open instantly, but he nudges it closed with his nose, his thumb paying very close attention to my clit as it responds needily to him.
“Fuck, Scarlett,” he breathes into the crook of my neck, causing me to turn away from him. I can see myself in the mirror and the image is obscene. I'm pressed against the sink, my hands above my head, Evan's strong hands wrapped around my wrist as he kisses my neck with his other hand inside my panties. He presses his cheek to mine, watching me watch us. “Look at you. You're a fucking mess and I'm hardly doing anything.”
“Ev,” I pant. “Don’t stop.”
“Angel, I’ve not even started,” he whispers. I don't know how his touch unravels me so easily. Maybe it’s because it’s been on my mind for weeks now. But actually, having it suddenly makes every nerve so sensitive to his touch. And I just want more. “Do you want me to put a finger in that sweet pussy of yours or will this do?”
