The Chase (Fast Track #4)(38)
Author: Erin McCarthy

But he had loved her. No question of that.

“I don’t know what to say . . . I had no idea.”

“Say that you would have said yes.”

She nodded, without hesitation. “Yes. I would have said yes. No doubt about it.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a minute, the emotion in Evan’s dark and lusty and raw.

Then suddenly they were grabbing for each other, falling over plates of food as they fought to get their lips on each other. Their kiss was a collision, chests together, arms grappling, mouths angling for a deeper, all-consuming touch.

Kendall wouldn’t have thought it was possible to be so hot for him again so soon, but she was even more so. Now it was physical and emotional, an explosive cocktail of desire, her tongue desperately sweeping across his. The thought that this man had wanted to marry her, spend his life with her, was possibly the hottest thing she’d ever heard.

His tongue mated with hers, and then he bit her lip, tugging it with just enough force to send a jolt of ecstasy to her inner thighs. Her ni**les were tight and aching beneath her T-shirt, and she had managed to maneuver her legs on either side of his and now shamelessly rubbed against him.

Evan yanked her head back with her hair, breathing frantically, and kissed her neck, his desperate desire driving her own. Before she could even really react, he had tossed her back onto the bed, the French fries flying in all directions as a plate tumbled to the floor.

Neither of them paused, the mess wasn’t acknowledged in any way, and they were back at it instantly, making out with all the fervor of teens on curfew, with the added kick of being full-fledged adults with hands that knew exactly how to move on each other. Kendall had hers in Evan’s boxers, stroking him with the stickiness of his obvious arousal. He had his hands in her panties, moving inside her with a similar intensity.

“Roll on top of me,” he panted. “I want to feel you move on me.”

When they rolled, still connected by mouth, Kendall kicked the remaining plate, but it didn’t slow her down. Once on Evan’s body, she spread her legs and mimicked sex, their mouths tangling and teasing and pressing. It was old school—the clothes still somewhat on, the hands in each other’s hair, their bodies moving together but stopping short of that ultimate connection—but that’s what made it even hotter. This was about the kiss, the wanting of each other, not just their bodies.

It should have scared her, but there was no thought in her head other than that she wanted him. Always had. Probably always would. Even when she had convinced herself she hated him, she had still wanted him.

He had loved her.

She had loved him.

And they, mostly her, had destroyed that.

Now she wanted to dig her fingers into his flesh, take him into her body, hold on to him in the only way she could, for right now, here, in this room, this night.

He flipped her onto her back, and then she was shoving his boxers down, he was tugging her panties past her thighs. Evan grabbed her leg and put her ankle on his shoulder. Then he was inside her with a hard thrust that pushed the air right out of her lungs.

“Oh, God.” She grabbed his arms and held on as he went deep inside her, again and again.

Her fingers dug blindly into his bicep muscles, and her head jerked upward with each desperate plunge inside her hot, moist body. It was acute pleasure, almost painful in its overwhelming intensity, his teeth gritted, eyes locked with hers. Her ankle bounced on his shoulder, their bodies connecting as deeply and tightly as was possible at their most intimate and sensitive spot.

“Kendall.”

It almost sounded like a question, like he wanted to say something to her. “Yes?” she asked, struggling to focus, her back arching, her ni**les taut against her T-shirt as it moved with her body. She bit her bottom lip, losing focus on his as she careened into ecstasy, her orgasm hitting her with the force of a tsunami.

“Come for me, baby,” he urged, his words followed by a deep, throaty groan.

“I am, I am.” She was—a wild, clawing, surreal explosion of pleasure on Evan, under him, with him.

He came, too, their moans blending together as easily as their bodies, a crashing erotic burst of pleasure, bodies, voices, and hearts.

She clung to him, stunned, blinking and forcing herself to breathe as her inner muscles vibrated with tiny aftershocks of pleasure.

That was . . . she didn’t even know.

Something she had never experienced, free and elemental and totally in her body, yet somehow totally out of it.

“I . . .”

She hadn’t even intended to speak, so she wasn’t sure what she was trying to say. Evan had the same stunned look on his face she imagined she was sporting.

“That was insanely good,” he said, pulling her ankle off his shoulder and moving her leg back down onto the bed.

Which was good because Kendall realized it was trembling a little from the position. She sat in a race car for four hours straight yet couldn’t handle five minutes with her leg in the air? Also suddenly aware of a pinching sensation on her back, Kendall shifted slightly. “Something’s stabbing me.”

“It’s a fork.”

“Well that explains that.” Kendall grinned up at him.

“Why did they even give us silverware? We had a burger and a sandwich.”

“They come rolled in the napkins.”

“Are you okay?” He turned her onto her side and massaged her back.

Kendall felt more than okay. She felt punch drunk. “I’m fantastic.” She felt boneless and satisfied and goofy, inflated with emotions she had no intention of examining. She was just going to enjoy the high.

When he let her go, she flopped back, unable to hold herself up.

Evan laughed. “You look loopy and adorable.” He leaned down and kissed her, a quick, hard smack.

“You have ketchup on your arm,” she told him, seeing a long red streak from his elbow to his wrist.

“Damn.” He glanced down at it. “I sure do. And the bed is wrecked.”

It was. They both peeled themselves up off the mattress and into a sitting position. Kendall realized she actually had a pickle slice stuck to her thigh. She flung it onto the tray. There were French fries everywhere, and her burger had tumbled to the floor, leaving a trail of ketchup and mustard behind it. Evan had ketchup on his stomach as well as his arm, which struck her as hilarious.

“We’re going to have to tip the maid really well,” he said, using a napkin to swipe at his gut.

Kendall just laughed. Plucking a fry off the bed, she dipped it in the ketchup on Evan’s arm and stuck it up to his mouth as a joke. But he actually ate it, pulling the whole thing into his mouth.