Page 30 of Goal Line (Boston Rebels #4)

Chapter Twenty-Three

LUKE

I t’s way later than I would have expected when I hear Eva’s key in the lock. I watch her from the air mattress as she slips inside and shuts the door quietly behind her, then turns to set her purse on the counter nearest the door.

I want to say something to let her know I’m still awake, but I also don’t want to scare the shit out of her. By how quiet she’s being, she obviously thinks I’m asleep.

She tiptoes into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her, and all I can think about is the shower I took after she left for dinner.

I couldn’t get her off my mind while the hot water rained down on me—the way she tasted when I kissed her, how she felt this afternoon when I held her against me, with my hand protectively cupping her belly.

This desire I’ve always had for her feels like it’s growing exponentially, and I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to hide it.

I squirted some of her conditioner into my hand, wishing that her signature peach scent was filling the shower because she was there with me.

When I imagined her hand jerking me off instead of mine, I felt like the worst best friend ever.

But I’m not even sure if that bothers me anymore.

I’m trying my hardest to keep myself in check around her, and I’m willing to bet there will be plenty of showers in my future.

I’ve taken stock of all her toiletries and ordered them for my place so she’ll have what she needs when we get back to Boston.

I even grabbed an extra shampoo and conditioner for my own shower.

Because yeah, I’m that guy now—the one who buys his best friend’s scented toiletries, planning to use them to jerk off to all the fantasies of us together.

I’m an asshole is what I am. And if she had any idea, she’d seriously laugh in my face about it. Or would she?

These past few days, I’ve started to wonder. To hope, even? I didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on my body after we woke up this morning, or the way her breathing gets heavy when I’m close.

Eva opens the bathroom door and turns off the light, and I hear her walking past the kitchen table into the living area, heading toward her bed.

“Shit!” she hisses, and then I hear her jumping around.

I sit up. “What are you doing?”

“I’m so sorry to wake you,” she says. “I should’ve remembered that we moved the chair to make room for the air mattress, but I wasn’t thinking. I freaking stubbed my toe on it.” She’s bent over, with her foot on the opposite knee, clutching her toes in her hand. “I’ll just...”

She puts her foot down, turns to take a step, but walks directly into the couch.

She jumps back like it attacked her, and then starts falling onto the air mattress.

I reach out to break her fall as she twists in the air in an attempt to avoid crashing into the coffee table on the far side of the air mattress.

She puts a hand out to brace her fall, and it lands right on my shoulder, pushing me back onto my pillow.

Her chest slams into mine, but luckily, she holds her head up so our faces don’t collide—the last thing either of us needs is a broken nose.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, her chest shaking with laughter. “What the fuck just happened?”

I can’t help but laugh along with her. “I have no idea.”

She lies there for a moment with one of her legs running along my side and her other knee bent by my opposite hip. Then she must realize that she’s pressed right against my quickly hardening dick, because she lets out a small gasp.

I couldn’t stop my reaction to her proximity if I tried, and I’m not sure I even want to anymore. When she plants her hand next to my head and starts to push herself off me, I wrap my forearm across her lower back without thinking, anchoring her to me.

Her face is inches away, hovering above me, motionless. As her lips part slightly, I can feel her heavy breath on my skin. She slips her tongue out and wets her lower lip as she gazes down at me. I’m about to tell her not to move when her hips flex, pressing her core along me.

I let out a soft groan, and her eyes widen. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, eyes wide like she’s shocked even herself. “My body just...did that without my permission.”

I reach my other hand up and slide it along the side of her neck, holding back her waves of dark hair that have fallen forward onto my bare chest.

“And if your body had asked your permission?” I can’t take my eyes off her mouth, can’t stop staring as her teeth sink into that full lower lip and her nostrils flare with a breath that makes her whole chest swell.

“I don’t know.” Her words are so quiet I can barely hear them despite the silence of the room. And then her hips press into me again, and we both let out a low moan. I pull her head toward mine. And as our mouths connect, she kisses me with reckless abandon.

I don’t stop to think about what this means, or how it will change our friendship or affect our marriage.

I’m desperate to taste her, to touch her, to fucking know her in ways I’ve never thought were possible.

I want to take my time and savor her, explore every inch of her body and discover her reactions to each place I touch her.

But there’s absolutely nothing slow about the way she’s kissing me and rubbing herself along my cock like she’s desperate for the friction, and I’m struggling to hold my body in check, no matter how hard I try.

My hips rock up against her where she’s pressed up against me, and she releases a deep moan that reverberates along our entire bodies.

She threads her fingers through my hair and tugs on the strands, while I smooth my hand from her lower back over her ass and push the hem of her dress up to her waist. Sliding my palm back up and skimming my thumb over the lower part of her abdomen, I expect to encounter her underwear. Instead, I find her bare.

I break away from the kiss. “Did you go out tonight with nothing under this dress?”

Her breath is coming in heavy, hot bursts, gliding along my face as she props herself up on her elbows, looking down at me. “Not exactly.”

My thumb strokes the smooth skin along the front of her hip, continuing down until I’m perilously close to her center. I can barely breathe in anticipation of finally knowing what she feels like. “Tell me more.”

“I took them off when I got home. They’re in the laundry basket in the bathroom.” She glances away, but I cup her jaw and turn her face back to mine.

“Do you always take your underwear off when you get home?” I’m not even sure what or why I’m asking, but the fact that she fell on top of me, sans underwear and is obviously horny as hell, has me curious.

“Not always.”

“So why tonight?”

“Luke, can you please stop interrogating me and go back to kissing me instead?”

I roll my hips up into her and don’t miss the way the head of my dick rubs right along her clit, making her eyes close as her lips part in a breathy sigh.

“I’m happy to go back to kissing you,” I say, letting my thumb slide farther down her belly.

She sucks her stomach in to give me room, but my hand stops just before I make contact with her clit.

“But first, I want to know why you took your underwear off.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “And if I don’t tell you?”

“We can stop.”

If this scenario had played out even a week ago, I wouldn’t have had the discipline to make this offer. I’d have continued kissing her after she asked, from fear that I’d never have another opportunity.

But her response to me tonight has me more confident that this attraction between us isn’t one-sided at all. Even if she calls my bluff and nothing else happens, I’m relatively certain that we’ll find ourselves in a similar situation in the near future.

After years of telling myself this was a lost cause, “we” suddenly feel inevitable.

“I’d love to take care of all your needs right now,” I tell her, taking my hand from her jaw and trailing it down her neck until my palm rests on her chest, right between her breasts. Her heartbeat is fast but steady beneath my skin. “But I need to know why you want this.”

When she sighs and rolls her hips again, I know she’s going to tell me—because it’s clear she wants this more than she wants to keep her little secret.

“These pregnancy hormones have me . . . needing things.”

I splay my finger out so my thumb and pinky dip beneath the top seam of her dress, and she whimpers. “What kind of things, Evie?”

“The sexual kind. I just need...” She rolls her hips again. I can’t stop the way my own hips flex upward, rubbing along her core, and I don’t miss the way she’s making my boxers damp with her arousal. “I need a decent orgasm. And you said if I had needs?—”

“To come to me. Good girl,” I say and watch her eyes flare in surprise. I slip my hand farther between us, until my thumb coasts against her clit, and she squeezes her eyes shut, her lips parting as she sighs.

“I need...” she whispers, but then stops herself.

I trail kisses along her jaw, knowing I would give her anything and everything she asked for. “Tell me what you need, baby. ”

“I need this dress off. I want to feel your skin against mine.”

“Sit up.” I don’t mean the words to come so ragged, but I’m so turned on at this point, it’s hard to talk.

She straightens up, with her knees bent on either side of me, directly on top of my cock.

Sliding my hands inside the stretchy material of her dress, I drag it up her body, and then sit up so I can pull it the rest of the way over her head.

But now, her tits are right in front of my face, and I am so fucking distracted by them, I forget what I’m doing.

I don’t even realize she’s finished pulling the dress off herself until I hear her light laughter and look up to find her staring down at me. “See something you like?”

I lick my lips, not breaking eye contact with her while bringing my hands up to cup each heavy beast in my hand. “You’re fucking spectacular, you know that?”

She lets out a low rumble of laughter. “So you say...now that I’m naked.”

“You’re always spectacular, Evie. You’re just extra amazing naked.”

When I run my thumbs over her nipples, she hisses a “Yesss.” I pull one of the stiff peaks into my mouth while toying with the other between my fingers, and she rocks her hips back and forth, rubbing her cunt along my length in quick, sharp movements.

She’s not taking this slow; she’s chasing a feeling she can only get from another person.

I glance up at her and ask, “Did you already try to make yourself come tonight? Is that why you’re not wearing any underwear. ”

“Yes,” she breathes out as she moves her body along mine. “But I need you to make me come, Luke. Please. ”

“I like it when you beg,” I tell her with a smirk.

“That’s not begging,” she says, a flash of defiance on her face.

“Not yet .” I bring my mouth back to her nipple, swirling my tongue over the hardened peak before sucking it into my mouth with several long pulls that have her moaning.

“Oh my god,” she says, her hips bearing down on me harder and faster. “Yes.”

I switch to her other nipple while I slide one hand behind her. With her breathy sighs as she rubs her clit against my cock, it makes sense that I find her absolutely soaked when my fingers reach her cunt, slipping right through the evidence of her arousal.

“Oh yeah,” she says, her breathing heavy. “Yes!”

I curl my fingers inside her, and the slick, slapping sound of her fucking my fingers as she grinds her clit against me makes the base of my spine tingle.

I clamp my lips around her, sucking her into my mouth while my tongue toys with her nipple—and I think the fact that I’m touching her in so many places is setting her off.

“Yes,” she cries out. “Oh my god, please don’t stop.

” She sinks onto my fingers over and over, begging me.

“Harder, please, oh god, please don’t stop.

..I’m so close... please ...” The last word is nearly a choked sob as it escapes, and I feel the inner walls of her clench around my fingers. “Yes. Holy shit. Yes, Luke!”

That’s what does me in—the way she cries out my name when she comes has lightning darting up my spine as I shoot my release against my boxers.

When she stops spasming against my fingers, her body falls forward against mine, resting her chin on my shoulder and wrapping her arms around my back as she sighs contentedly against my skin.

“Thank you.”

My chest shakes with a deep chuckle, and she pulls back to look at me, the question unmistakable on her face. “Trust me, Evie. The pleasure was all mine.”

“I didn’t think...” She bites her lip. “I wasn’t sure we should cross this line. But now that we have...” Her hips rock into me again, and then she glances down between us. “Did you...?”

“Just find the entire experience of getting my wife off to be the most fucking erotic thing that’s ever happened to me? Yeah.”

“Sure,” she says, her voice teasing, and it’s then that I realize—maybe for the first time—that I’m eventually going to have to tell her. Because she deserves to know that the first time I fuck her will be my first time, period.

“Trust me, Evie. I’ve never seen anything sexier than you begging for an orgasm while coming on my fingers.”

Even in the darkness, I can tell she’s blushing, and I’m about to comment on it when the unmistakable sound of hissing air surrounds us and we start sinking.

“Oh my god, did we break this bed?” Her peals of laughter ring out over the air mattress deflating beneath us.

I look at her with a self-satisfied smirk. “We sure as hell did.”