Instead of answering, she leaned around him and opened the door to his town house, brushing past him and flicking on a light as she entered.
Evan said a prayer of gratitude, followed by another hoping that he hadn’t left his place too disgusting that morning. But he knew that more likely than not his living standards didn’t meet the expectations of a perfectionist like Kendall. Even before Elec had gotten married and moved out, Evan had been something of a slob. Now it had only gotten worse without his brother nagging him.
The only solution was to rush her past the kitchen and get her naked in bed.
“Bedroom is to the right, up the stairs, first door on the left.”
“Aren’t you even going to offer me a drink or anything?” Kendall walked past his kitchen towards the stairs, but her eyes swept curiously over his place.
Even in the dim light from the hall, Evan could see he’d left dirty dishes all over the counter. He’d have liked to say it was because he was exceptionally busy at the moment, but the truth was, he was always messy. Nothing gross, just . . . cluttered. Sometimes it took him a while to clean up, which was no big deal.
Why he suddenly felt the need to apologize for any of that was beyond him. “Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you.”
Evan didn’t even try to prevent an eye roll from happening. “Smart-ass.” He moved towards her and took her hand, intertwining her fingers with his. “Now, come upstairs with me.” Dropping a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth, on her ear, he added, “Please.”
Kendall shivered. “You always were good at talking me into sex.”
Something about that gave him pause. “Did I talk you into something you weren’t ready for?” That would bother him, if he had pushed her into sex before she wanted to.
Evan held her hand, and his lips brushed over her temple, inhaling the scent of her fruity shampoo.
“Of course not. I think you know me well enough to know that I don’t do anything I don’t want to. I was scared, nervous, sure, but when we made love for the first time, I wanted to. And it was beautiful.”
Emotions that he wasn’t about to name surfaced rapidly, one by one, little bubbles popping up and exploding, but the only one that he was willing to acknowledge was lust. Kendall’s voice was a sexy slide across his flesh, like teasing fingers.
Stroking her hand in his with his thumb, he murmured, “It was beautiful. You’re beautiful. Then and now.”
“Take me upstairs.”
“My pleasure.”
CHAPTER SIX
KENDALL barely had time to glance around Evan’s bedroom before he had her splayed out on his bed. The room was dark and he was just a shadow over her, the only sounds the rustle of their clothing and the in-and-out of excited breathing. Why was it that something so simple as having him near her caused the extreme reaction it did? She felt excited, pleased, aroused, just from his body over hers, totally clothed, his hands reaching for her.
She wasn’t going to think about it. She was just going to enjoy it.
Evan pushed her coat off her shoulders and she wiggled out of it.
“I want to see you,” he murmured, moving off the bed and across the room.
When a lamp came on, bathing the room in a soft glow, she felt the need to warn him. “I’m not eighteen anymore, you know. I have cellulite.”
Which was such a mood killer. Annoyed with herself, she sat up, planning to take her shoes off. And maybe knock herself in the head with one of them.
She expected him to crack a joke or tell her to shut up in that playful banter they had. But as he approached the bed, Evan bent over, his arms on either side of her, his face level with hers, his brown eyes serious and warm.
“Hey. We all fear we’re not perfect. But to me, Kendall, you’ve always been perfect.”
Oh, God. She was drowning. She was completely and totally drowning in his eyes, his words, his body. Suddenly there was no past, no future, no outside world, there was just this bed, this dusky room, and him.
Because she didn’t know what to say, she reached up and kissed him. They had always had good chemistry, a steamy connection, and it flared up all over again, that passion that had driven her a decade ago to do things she had never imagined. Things that had made her blush then, and things that she just greedily wanted now.
Evan stepped back and pulled off his shirt, dropping it to the floor.
His body had changed, too, in the last ten years, only he had filled out. What had been lean and lanky at nineteen was now muscular and toned at twenty-nine. She reached out and stroked his bare chest, enjoying the heat of his skin and his firm flesh. “Very nice.”
He dropped down into a squat and pulled off her boots. They hit the floor with a thud. Then he peeled off her socks, quickly and efficiently.
“I get cold without my socks on.”
He shot her a look of disbelief. “I’m not making love to you with your socks on. It’s warm under the covers, and in five minutes you’ll be so hot it won’t matter.”
“Then hurry.” She was half teasing, half serious. She didn’t want to be distracted by the fact that she was shivering. She got cold easily, what could she say?
Evan stood up, moving in between her legs. He pushed her knees apart. “Hurry? You’re going to eat those words.”
Kendall wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was looking forward to finding out. Though she had to admit, with the bulge in his pants right in front of her, she was contemplating pulling him out and sucking again. That had felt so damn good, to have him in her mouth, his moans ringing in her ears. Knowing that she was giving him that much pleasure had totally turned her on, too.
But before she could act on her thoughts, Evan had leaned forward, so that she was forced to lie back on the bed. Then before she could pull her legs onto the mattress, he had popped the button on her jeans and stripped them down the length of her, turning them completely inside out. The cold air hit her flesh and gave her goose bumps, but Evan was right—she didn’t care. Not when he hovered over her, kissing the inside of her thighs, his tongue trailing along her panties, his lips softly pressing against her mound.
She sighed, grateful for the contact. It had been a long time since she’d dated, and she’d missed this, the running of hands over her flesh, the soft feathery kisses of a lover. She’d missed orgasms, too, but those she could create on her own. The skin on skin was irreplaceable.
Did it matter that it was Evan? Probably, if she were being honest with herself. When she was feeling so relaxed and sensual and languid, she just might be inclined to admit that truth.