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Evie subtly bit her bottom lip mid-smile. “But it’ll just be while I’m at uni, right? We’ll come back for summer? I need to help out in the shop.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Okay!”
“Great! My family’s always lived in Chelsea, north of the Thames, but”—he grinned cheekily—“I guess I could live south of the river close to your uni.”
Evie’s left brow peaked. “What’s wrong with south London? Seemed nice when I visited.”
“Oh, it’s a silly London thing—the north-south divide. It runs deep.” He narrowed his gaze. “So…care to convince me?”
A naughty twinkle shone in Evie’s eyes as she sat up and tucked two fingers in her mouth, giving them a prolonged suck.
Holy mother of… Nick felt her visual tease between his thighs, a throbbing hot ache as his semi grew thicker, harder. Breaths quickened and all thoughts of flat-finding and bickering Londoners evaporated, replaced by an all-consuming need for Evie and whatever she had planned next.
Yanking away the sheets, she drifted downward, popping her wet fingers from her mouth and boldly wrapping her hand around his scorching heat.
“Will this help…?” She slid up to the softness of the head and back down, then up again, her thumb lingering, pressing the tip. “Persuade you, I mean.” Squeezing tighter, she moved her hand down again, pulling a groan-imbrued “I love persuasive Evie” through Nick’s buzzy, blissed-out smile.
“Convinced yet?” she purred mid-stroke.
“Uhh…” His legs twitched with feral pleasure, the ability to formulate an answer…
What was the question?
Giggling naughtily, she nudged her hair out of the way with her free hand and bowed her head, closing her lips around him.
“Holy shi—” Nick’s breath caught as the tip of her tongue danced around the head. “Oh…!” Reaching down, he threaded his hands through her hair and gently pulled, and Evie took him deeper, sucking and stroking, the slippery heat of her mouth bringing stars to his eyes.
She looked up through her bangs and grinned, the shift of her lips and jaw increasing the tingling and pressure, whisking him closer and closer to—
His phone buzzed again. Then again.
“Go away!” he grumbled toward the ceiling.
Evie stilled and sat up. “That’s the fourth time. Maybe something’s wrong?”
Nick closed his eyes and let out a staggered breath. “Fuck! Brilliant timing. Okay, I’ll have a quick peek.” As Evie released him, he rolled over. “If it’s bloody Tarquin looking for guinea pigs, I’m gonna kill him.”
“Guinea pigs? Here?” A strange excitement rippled through her voice. “That takes me back. We used to own five: Scary, Baby, Posh, Sporty, and Ginger.”
Ignoring the ache between his thighs, Nick laughed and glanced over his shoulder. Combing her fingers through her bedhead, Evie looked like she was prepping to join the search party. “Well, I hate to disappoint, but Tarq’s guinea pigs are of the taste-testing variety. His new thing is making waffles from scratch.”
“Your favorite! Aw, that’s sweet of him.”
“Nah, I know my baby brother.” Nick lunged past Evie’s plush otters, marshmallow Snowballs, and still-wrapped daisies on his bedside table and scooped up his phone. “This is all about upping his morning-after game. He reckons if he makes a hot breakfast for his hookups, they’ll come back for a second helping of him.”
“You gotta admit, that’s pretty clever for an eighteen-year-old guy!” Evie crawled toward the pillows.
Nick tapped in his passcode. “Like I said, Tarq doesn’t need sex advice from me.” He opened his texts, and a stack of messages hogged the screen.
Mum:
Darling, you awake? I’m at the Sandpiper Hotel.
Fuck, why is she here? Annoyance burned in Nick’s throat as he skipped to the next texts.
Mum:
