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“Not with you, yeah?”
I peel my attention off his frozen fingers and look at him. “What?”
“I'm not him—Casanova. Not with you.” His mouth twists to the side when he says his nickname, like the very word tastes bad.
My face relaxes with understanding. I may not know the origins of his nickname, even though I can hazard a guess. But what I can understand is wanting to create distance between who you were and who you are.
“Okay.”
He dips his head once. “Arms up, sweetheart.”
Butterflies stir inside of me, their delicate wings tickling my stomach. Am I really going to get naked with him while Bane and Silas are just a floor below us? I might've said I wanted to have fun this summer, but I'm not sure if I'm ready for that kind of fun.
If Silas blew a fuse when he heard I was dancing on the counter at the clubhouse, I can only imagine what kind of tantrum he'll throw if he hears the noises of pleasure Nova wrenches from me.
He reads my hesitation instantly. “Trust me, Evangeline.”
I nod, a small jerk of my head, and let my hand fall away from his wrist. I raise both hands in the air and watch his face as he slowly pulls the tee up.
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
My thighs clench at the praise. Cool air caresses my nipples as the fabric is maneuvered over my head. I force myself not to cross my arms over my chest as I lower them to my sides.
His expression is locked down tight, but his eyes give him away. They're wide and dark, his pupils blown with desire. I watch in fascination as his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.
“Goddamn, Evangeline. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I could look at you a hundred times a day, for the rest of my life, and it would never be enough. It would never satiate my hunger for you.”
His voice is a deep rumble, and it hits me like a shot of lust straight to my core. I forget all about where we are and who could overhear us.
He drops the shirt to the ground, his gaze fixed on me, studying me like I'm a piece of art. I don't hate the attention. In fact, it feels sort of empowering to have his attention like this. Like an alarm could go off, and he'd have a hard time pulling his focus from me.
I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip. “Are you going to stand there looking or are you going to do something about it?”
He tsks, a smirk blooming across his handsome face. “As much as I'd love nothing more . . .” He trails off as he steps closer, easing fabric over my head.
I feel a moment of confusion before realizing he's helping me into his shirt. I push my arms through the sleeves and pull my hair out of the collar, and his smirk turns into a salacious grin.
He takes a step backward, regarding me from head to toe. “Much better, sweetheart. Now we can talk.”
My heart stutters inside my chest at what feels like a near-miss situation. I can't decide if it's relieved or disappointed.
I tilt my head to the side, amusement fluttering inside my chest at the almost strange possessive move. “And we couldn't do that in the kitchen? With Silas and Bane?”
He rakes his teeth along his plump bottom lip. “Nah, Evangeline, we couldn't do that with them.” He pauses, his eyes narrowing, but it's directed inward. I blink and his expression smooths into something distinctly sly. “Well, maybe I'll let 'em watch sometime. Not this time.”
Wait a minute.
Now it's my turn to narrow my eyes, and I'm definitely shooting the look at him. He only chuckles and slides one of those big palms up along my ribs, between my breasts, and curving around to palm the back of my neck.
He applies a little pressure on his hold, and my head tips toward him all too easily.
“I've missed you, sweetheart,” he breathes out, voice low like he's sharing a secret.
I slide my palms over his arms, curling my fingers around the slope of his biceps. “I just saw you twelve hours ago.”
His eyes close and he leans his forehead against mine. “I feel like I've lived twelve years in the last twelve hours.”
Concern freezes my muscles, and my fingers dig into his muscles. “What happened?”
