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He motions for me to sit on the couch and sits next to me. He tells me everything, and my heart breaks for him. I can feel, word after word, his frustration, humiliation, and despair at a situation that has completely spun out of his control. I see the fear in his eyes when he tells me about the fight with his friends and the terror of having ruined that relationship forever. After what Aaron told me about his father and how he treated him, I realized how important the Jailbirds have become to him. This rift in their relationship will drive him crazy. I feel a little guilty because I should be here to help him, but I also realize he’s fallen into this mess precisely because he doesn’t want anyone’s help. Evan doesn’t accept anyone interfering in his job, and until he really understands what it is to be a team, no one can help him. He has to learn the hard way.
“Come back to Jail Records,” he whispers after he finishes his story.
I shake my head and fix my gaze on his. “No, Evan. I can’t.”
“I need you, Emily. This mess wouldn’t have happened if you had been here.”
The anger that attacks my stomach mixes with my feelings of concern for him. I have gone along with his every request so far, and the result has been devastating. I have to set boundaries if I want this situation to end.
“Don’t blame me for a mess you made while I was on the other side of the country!” I snap.
“I’m not blaming you. I was the one who fired you, and I fucked up. Still, if you’d been here, you would have seen that email, you would have reminded me about it, and I wouldn’t have fucked up. I need an assistant, and you’re the one who knows me best.”
I inhale deeply and restrain myself from slapping him.
“Evan, you’ve always done very well on your own. You don’t need an assistant. You need a calendar that reminds you of appointments. If you stopped trying to be so damn perfect in everything you do, you’d find that you’re capable of pulling yourself out of this mess. But you never give yourself a break. You’ve been awake for three days for what? To find a solution? Stop trying to save all your friends and accept that you sometimes make mistakes. You keep trying to prove to your father that you’re the best at what you do, you keep trying to improve yourself, and you don’t realize that you’re already perfect as you are. You don’t need me, Evan. You’ve never needed me.”
The pain on his face surprises me, but what really pulls the rug out from under my feet is when he leans forward, takes my hair in his fist, and kisses me. His lips take possession of mine, and his tongue creeps into my mouth, dictating a rhythm that shows me all the despair he feels in this moment. He bites my lower lip before pulling back and looking at me. The fire, anger, fear, and regret are so overwhelming his gray eyes almost seem to come to life. A liquid fire that hypnotizes me and binds me to his soul.
I’m breathless, not just from this kiss I didn’t expect but from all those feelings that merge until they become lust—the real, crushing passion that leaves you no room to escape. Evan has never looked at me like this, like he wants to savor every inch of my body and hear me moan. His fist tightens my hair in a firmer and somewhat painful grip, forcing my head back. He watches me, studies me, and then with a slow and calculated gesture, swipes his gaze over my neck and the plunging neckline of my summer dress.
The decisiveness in his gaze freezes me, breathless, utterly submissive to his will. And the excitement making its way from my lower belly takes me by surprise.
He closes the distance again, and his tongue tastes the skin from my shoulder to my neck, behind my ear, and my heart thunders in my throat, suffocating a small moan that makes me tremble. His free hand moves the thin shoulder strap of my dress and lets it slip, exposing my breast. He moves just enough to observe me, sliding his gaze from my lips to my neck until he lands on my hard nipples, where he pounces like a hungry man at a feast. He sucks, bites, licks, and makes me groan his name.
He grabs my wrist and guides my fingers to his chest. He pushes me against the couch, caging and preventing me from moving. He wants control, and I give it to him.
I discover a side of Evan that I didn’t know. Possessive, demanding, and able to take what he wants without hesitation. When I can finally come up with a coherent thought and get my brain to react, I reach out my hands again, and he lets me. I stroke that perfect chest I have dreamed of so many times, waking up sweaty and wet to the point of being ashamed. It’s no mystery that Evan is a handsome man, but the decisive way he makes me moan is something that arouses me beyond measure.
I caress every single inch of skin on his chest, sculpted abs, and narrow hips that descend to the front in a perfect V that disappears under the sweatpants. I pause to look into his eyes as I put a hand under the waistband, push them down mid-thigh, and palm his erection. His eyes widen slightly, his jaw twitches, and with a decisive gesture, he moves his hand from my hair to my neck and pushes me deeper on the sofa. Kneeling in front of me, his erection free from the sweatpants, he puts a hand under the thin fabric of my dress, reaches the hem of my thong, and with a lightning gesture, tears it off me. Literally, I feel the cloth sinking into my flesh before giving way with a snap. It’s so sexy I almost come. He never looks away from me. He never loosens the grip that keeps me lying on the couch, silently begging him to possess me.
The smug smile on his lips is nothing like his usual sweet one. He is the personification of sin, and when he returns his hand between my legs, a groan that sounds like his name leaves my lips, widening his smile. He enjoys the power he has over me, and that part of me that has always wanted a decisive man between the sheets overwhelmingly stirs in my chest, making my heart hammer against my ribcage. Evan notices it. The hand still tightened around my neck feels this change that explodes inside me and he takes advantage of it, sinking into me with a couple of fingers.
I push my hips against his hand. I try to reach the pleasure he denies me, smiling. I try again, but he moves his hand again.
“Please, Evan.” The moan that comes out of my chest widens his grin.
I raise my hips again, and this time he sinks in me, making me groan louder. His movements become frantic, he fucks me roughly with his fingers, but he knows exactly how to make a woman come. He takes me to the crest and I reach it with a guttural grunt that shakes my chest. He does it at his own pace and doesn’t leave me time to recover, to calm my crazy heart before slipping between my legs and sinking his erection in a single decisive push.
He looks me straight in the eye as he sinks into me with a rhythm and passion that leaves me no escape. He takes everything from me, my moans, the new orgasm that shakes me. He makes them his own and pours them into his furious thrusts. He takes the time to make me chase another shattering orgasm, and then he lets go when a groan escapes my lips at the height of my pleasure. He’s so sexy that my third orgasm explodes again, and I can’t catch my breath.
I discovered an Evan who loves to have control over every aspect of his work. I never imagined that his craving to dominate in bed would make me burn with overwhelming excitement. I’ve had several men in my life, but none have led me to three orgasms so shattering I’m still trembling.
He kisses my neck before putting the shoulder strap of my dress back in its place and covering my breasts. All the control of a few minutes ago is replaced by attention and sweetness I didn’t think possible. The sudden change makes me smile and turn my head toward him. Evan’s thousand shades are so different that it’s difficult to understand who’s really hiding behind that perfect face. I sit while he adjusts his sweatpants. I look at my panties on the floor and blush. What we just did settles in my brain, sending it into confusion. We were arguing, and two seconds later, I was lying on the couch, begging him to fuck me.
“Come back and work for Jail Records.” His words are a cold shower on the emotions stirring in my chest.
“Evan, no. Especially now that we’ve slept together.” My voice comes out more decisive than I feel.
“I need you.” The pain that passes through his eyes makes me feel guilty because he genuinely believes it.
“Do you remember how we got to the point where we argued, and you fired me? Because you don’t accept any kind of help. I will not come back to watch helplessly as you make the same mistakes.”
While he needs to figure out for himself where he went wrong to learn, I need to distance myself from him to protect myself. If I stay in this city, I will end up being dragged into his madness. I was willing to sleep with his father to give Evan what he wanted. What will I be willing to do the next time Evan needs help but doesn’t want to listen to anyone? Where would I draw that line I shouldn’t cross so I don’t end up crushed? The doubt of having already crossed it terrifies me.
“I can’t solve this mess on my own.” Anger and despair mingle in his words.
“Evan, you don’t need an assistant. You need outstanding lawyers to overturn a contract that seems to be solid. I can’t help you. I’m going back to Los Angeles, so if you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m willing to listen to you, but if you want someone to remind you of appointments, find a secretary.” I get up from the couch upset and try to smooth out my wrinkled dress.
