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“No.”
In three long strides, Jericho crossed the distance between them and wrapped his muscular arms around Evie, pulling her to him. And then they were kissing, their bodies pressed tightly together. This was not the sweet kiss of October. This was pure, unchecked passion. Evie hadn’t been able to let herself fall fully for Jericho because Mabel liked him and Evie would die before she’d hurt Mabel. And then there were her confusing feelings for Sam. But now that was all in the past. There was nothing to stop her from being with Jericho.
Still kissing her, he lifted her up and deposited her gently on the bed. Then he crawled toward her, lowering his body to hers. Evie pressed her lips against Jericho’s. He snaked a hand up inside her dress, caressing her thigh. Evie’s mother had always told her that no decent girl would pet like this. Maybe I’m not a decent girl, Evie thought, because she very much wanted Jericho to keep doing what he was doing to her. She liked kissing him, she found. His mouth was warm, and when he stroked a hand across her breast, it made her shiver all over.
He buried his head in her neck and murmured, “I love you, Evie.”
It should have made her happy. But for some reason, it made her sad instead. As if she knew she would only disappoint him eventually. “You don’t even know me. Not really.”
Jericho raised his head. His face was flushed, and the way he looked at her now, with real desire, made her feel dizzy in the best possible way. She wanted to live in this moment right here forever. Her emotions bounced around like the Metaphysickometer’s needle, from desire to doubt and back again. She wondered if that was normal.
“But I want to know you. I want to know everything,” he promised between kisses. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Evie smiled. “How much?”
“Let me show you,” he said, with such assurance it made her feel a little drunk. She loved how much he wanted her.
He unbuttoned the front of her dress and moved his mouth along her collarbone and down the center of her chest. He cupped one of her small breasts, and Evie thought she might explode. He was just guiding her hand down, to the front of him, when there was a loud knock at the door.
Evie sat up quickly, knocking Jericho in the nose.
“Sorry, sorry!” she whispered as he covered his injured nose with both hands.
His eyes were watering from the hit. But he was laughing quietly through the pain. “It’s okay. You can kiss it and make it better later,” he whispered.
“Dinner is served, Mr. Jones,” Ames called from the other side of the door.
“I’ll be right there, Ames!”
“Very good, sir.”
“I’d better go and freshen up,” Evie said, and kissed him again. It had been thrilling and maybe a little scar
y feeling his body between her thighs, his hardness pressed against her. She liked that she could do that to him just as much as she liked what he did to her, the way his kisses made her tremble.
“You look fresh enough to me. You couldn’t possibly get any fresher,” Jericho insisted.
“Sorry, pal. Bank’s closed.”
Evie pushed Jericho back. He groaned and flopped against the bank of floofy pillows.
Evie smoothed down her dress. She hoped she looked presentable. “See you at dinner.”
Jericho moved a pillow over his crotch. “Eventually,” he said, grinning.
Evie sneaked out, closing the door quietly behind her. When she turned around, she yelped in surprise. Sam was a few feet away, leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest.
“You startled me,” she said.
Sam wasn’t his usual good-time, smirking self. In fact, he looked as if someone had run over his dog. “What is it about that guy?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Evie said, a flush working its way up her neck.
“Come on, Evie. Don’t con a con man.”
Evie was both embarrassed that he’d caught her and furious that he was judging her.
“What do you care? You’re out with a different chorus girl every night. The papers say so!”
