Page 27 of The Hardest Hit

“Oh God, Evan, Evan.”

She moaned his name as he found her G-spot. He pushed his tongue onto her clit and she bucked against him with a little shriek of pleasure. She was trembling as he circled her clit again and again.

“Evan, God, Evan please, please I’ll come if you just fuck me.”

“Come and I’ll fuck you,” he said.

She made a noise that was half angry, half ecstatic.

He switched to using his fingers on her clit and sat up, letting his cock rest at the entrance to her sex. She pulsed against him and he wanted nothing more than to give in to her, but he held off a moment longer.

“Evan, Evan, please,” she begged.

“Please what?”

Her eyes closed and her body tensed underneath him, rocking with the pressure of his fingers. Her hands clenched at the sheets and her hair spread out in an arc across the bed.

“Please, fuck me, please!”

He let out his air in a woosh and drove into her, unable to restrain himself any longer. She came immediately, screaming his name and wrapping her legs around him. He gave her a moment and then began to fuck her in earnest. She moaned and pulled his head down to kiss him as their bodies moved in unison. She came again when he did and he collapsed into her, sweaty and happy.

Later, when he could think again, he decided that half the fun of sex with Olivia was not letting her have her way. The other half was giving her exactly what she wanted.

11

Olivia – Dinner

Olivia tried to get her breath back and maintain enough self-control to keep from blurting out the thought that was uppermost in her mind: this had been even better than last time. Last week had been fantastic, but she had failed to realize that last week had merely been a warm-up for Evan Deveraux. She had never reacted to anyone like she did to him. His lightest touch had set her on fire. She tried to roll over to snuggle against Evan and found that her muscles didn’t respond to her commands. He had turned her to jelly. Fortunately, he pulled her to him, settling her against his chest with a satisfied grunt.

“God, I love Tuesdays,” she said.

“Again, I was just joking about Tuesdays,” he said.

“I am not laughing,” said Olivia.

“Neither am I,” he said cranking his head down to kiss her. They settled back into comfortable silence and Olivia ran her hand over the sheets.

“Where did you get these?” she asked fingering the material. “They are seriously the nicest sheets ever.”

“No clue,” he said.

“That’s such a guy thing,” she said. “I don’t generally believe in gender stereotyping, but seriously, men need to learn that sheets matter.”

“I believe that they matter,” he said sounding amused. “For instance, I hate flannel. It’s like being Velcroed to one spot in the bed. And I hate satin. Having satin sheets is just begging for a sex-related injury when someone goes sliding right out of bed.”

Olivia laughed.

“No, the only real answer for sheets is cotton with a ridiculously high thread count. Which is what I believe these are. I just have no idea where they came from.”

“Well, then I take back my harsh words regarding your gender,” said Olivia with a laugh, but privately she wondered just how much Evan had spent on the sheets. She wasn’t making bad money, but she was starting to think that Evan made ridiculous money.

“Thanks,” he said. “Dinner?”

She groaned. “How do you have energy for that?”

“Stay here,” he offered. “I’ll bring you dinner in bed.”

She stared at him suspiciously. “This is a ploy to keep me naked, isn’t it?”