Embrace (Evolve Series #2) (27 page)

Once again his thumb finds me as he warm mouth caresses
my breasts. He knows exactly what I need. He’s there; I can feel it and it sets
me off, knowing what I can do to him. His name escapes me again, loud and long.
“Love you baby, love you so much,” he says sweetly as he kisses up my chest, my
chin, ending mouth to mouth slow and sweet. My sweet, sensual caveman.

“Love you too.” I lay my head against his chest,
catching my breath.

He rubs up and down my back, kisses my head, every
bit as good at afterplay. Finally, I move back to my seat, arranging myself as
he, too, takes care of things. The windows are all fogged up, making me laugh, and
I wipe out a circle.

“Where are we?” I ask, still not able to quite make
it out.

“Come on!” He grabs the keys and opens his door. “I
told you I wanted to take you somewhere.”

He’s waiting, hand out for me, when I put my shoes back
on and open my door. “It’s dark! What are we doing?” Outside of the car, it’s
easy to tell we’re in the driveway of a house. “Dane, it’s late, whose house is
this?”

“Yours.” He turns to me and smiles before inserting
a key into the front door. “And it’s not a house, it’s a duplex.” His hand
finds the switches and two lights come on, illuminating both the porch and
front room. “Go check out your new pad, Miss Walker,” he says, kicking the
front door shut behind him.

“Wh-what?”

“I bought this place for you. Next year, you don’t
have to live on campus; the athletic requirement lifts after your freshman
year. This place is halfway between my house and school
and
has no 11pm
curfew.” He winks, stalking towards me. “So we can sleep together every night.
It’s a duplex, so if I have to be away on business, I know you’re safe with
Tate and Bennett living on the other side.”

Duplex, to-ma-to...he bought me a
house
.

“Do Tate and Bennett know?”

“Not yet. If you hate it, we have to find another
one. No sense getting them excited until my baby gives it her stamp of
approval. So let me show you around.” He laces his fingers through mine,
beginning the tour after a chaste kiss to my fingers. “This is the living room,
obviously, I thought we’d go pick out new carpet and paint this weekend.”

I am still in shock, incapable of actual speech,
letting him guide me as he sees fit.  He bought me a house.
A house.

“And this is the kitchen.” He flips on a light.

The kitchen has empty, gaping holes where appliances
should be. “You can pick out your fridge and stuff too. I’d like to see new
countertops too,” he knocks on it, “unless you like these.” Offset is a kitchen
area, the hanging light capturing my attention. “We can change that too;
anything for you.”

“I like it, it just needs raised up a bit.”

“Done.”

We move down the hall and he shows me the linen
closet and guest bathroom, which I will gladly let him let me redecorate; it’s
hideous.

“There’re two bedrooms, this is the spare one,” he says
as he ushers me in to the decent-sized room.

“Who will be my roommate?” I ask.

“You don’t have to have one if you don’t want. It’s
not like you have to make rent. We can make that room anything you want. Come
on, let’s see the master.”

My room is huge, much bigger than any I’ve ever had,
with a private bathroom (also needing severe redecoration), a walk-in closet,
and the coolest bay window.

“I love it.” I spin, wrapping my arms around his
neck. “I can’t believe you bought me a house. You’re too good to be true.” I
kiss him deeply, trying to tell him all the big, fluffy words that mean I love
you that I can’t iterate.

“I can’t wait to christen every inch of this place,”
he says, his wink on auto-pilot, “and hold you every single night. But for now,
let’s go to my house. At least until we get furniture here.” He laughs.

“My dad will give me my bedroom furniture, but what
am I gonna do about the other rooms?”

“You’re going to fill them with stuff we pick out
together. That way I’m there to ensure it’s all sturdy enough.” He answers my
confused look by dipping me back, sucking right at the hollow dip in my throat.
“Think about it, baby, you’ll figure it out.”

Chapter 29

Fortress

~Evan~

“
S
o what’d you do all night?” Whitley
whispers long after I thought she was asleep.

“I’ll show you tomorrow when it’s light out and
you’re sober. Go back to sleep.”

“I’m sober now,” she rolls towards me, “and I’m not
tired. What was all that in the living room? I wanna go see.”

I’d planned a big night, as much set up inside as
out, but when I picked her up and found her drunk, I thought it’d be easier to
just carry her in and tuck her in bed. How she’d remained floppy as a rag doll
when I dressed her down to panties and a shirt for sleeping but somehow caught
the production in the living room I’m not sure. I suspect I’d been duped and
her snuggling up against me, bare legs thrown over me, was purposeful.

Not that I mind.

“You sure you don’t want to just go back to sleep?
You seemed pretty tipsy before.”

“I’m fine now, promise. So will you show me?” She
bounces, happy and perfectly coherent.

“Okay.” I get up, taking her hand. I switch on her
hall light as we pass so we’ll have just enough ambience in the living room. I
can’t wait to see if she likes it. Everything I’ve done having a recurring
theme—I want to give Whitley some childhood fun.

My childhood was great. Both my parents were
involved; there were camping and fishing trips, sports, game nights, toys,
backyard football, and sledding on the rare snow days we got. Basically, I got
it all.

Whitley got next to nothing. Through comments she
didn’t even realize she’d made and the few stories she’s shared, I learned a
lot about her childhood. Whitley’s her parents’ starched and pressed trophy
daughter, never allowed to let loose or get dirty.

Evan Allen’s fixin’ to show her the good stuff.
You’ll never be happy with where you end up if you weren’t happy with where
you’ve been. And I’ve seen enough glimpses into the real Whitley to know that the
girl is dying to have fun, get filthy, and let her hair down…who better to do
all that with than yours truly?

“Ready?” I lean my head around hers, making sure my
hands completely cover her eyes.

“Yes!”

“Ta-da!” I remove my hands and watch as she takes in
the scene before her, then tries to give me a counterfeit smile. “You don’t
like it?” I ask, disappointment setting in heartbreakingly fast.

“Oh, I’m sure I love it,” she says politely, then
nibbles her bottom lip, glancing over to me. “What is it?”

Poor, sheltered, ripped off Whitley. “It’s a living
room fort! Haven’t you—”
No, you know she hasn’t, fool!
“Come on!” 

I drag her over and crawl into the makeshift
fortress, which is constructed the good, old-fashioned way—every blanket and
sheet I could find draped over and/or held up by every chair in the house and
other tall, sturdy things. Every kid’s favorite spot.

“Come in here with me!” I call out to her. “It’s
fun.”

She probably thinks I’ve lost my ever-lovin’ mind,
but my powers only go so far. I can’t make her a little kid again (never gonna
happen) but I
can
bring the little kid to her.

Her sweet little face pops in through the opening. “This
is awesome!” she says dreamily, crawling in further. “Wow, you thought of
everything.”

I’d stacked pillows and blankets inside, making the
most comfortable bunker possible, and of course, stocked all the other
necessities. “Here.” I hand her one of the flashlights, flicking my own to
life. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” I run and turn out the hall light and
hurry back inside with her, the flashlights now our only glow. “I have snacks,
cards, and—”

“I think we should tell ghost stories!” she suggests
with a giggle.

Oh yeah, she gets it, and she’s having a blast. Sawyer
had called me an array of names when he saw what I had in store; pussy, cheesy
and cornball the ones I specifically remember, but Dane hadn’t said a word,
just shot me a knowing smile…’cause well, his girlfriend is Laney. Enough said.

Being best friends with Laney all those years, I
know all about a girl’s “inner child.” Women try their whole lives to stay
young; cosmetics, hair dye, tanning salons…plastic surgeons and Wonderbra companies
have built empires around that fact. So any chance you have to make a woman
feel young and whimsical, channeling her inner tea party and fairy…you do it.
Especially
if they never got to enjoy it in the first damn place.

“Excellent fort activity, Miss Thompson. Would you
like to go first?”

“No, you go first.” She lays down, her head in my
lap. “I’m ready.”

“This is called
Who Stole My Golden Arm
,” I
begin, laughing as a shiver runs through her body.

I
f you’ve never been woken up by a piglet
rooting your face with its sloppy, wet nose, well, you’re not living right, ‘cause
it is just great.

“Ugh,” I groan, pushing the little pain in the ass
away, “go see your mother.”

“Come here, baby,” she mumbles sleepily, pawing
around to find him. “He’s just jealous of how much I love you.”

She may be right, but I’m too tired and stiff to
think about it. I don’t remember sleeping in a fort being this damn
uncomfortable when I was a kid. Hay stacks, forts…one of these days I’m gonna
hold Whitley all night long
in a bed.

“You want coffee?” I roll over and face her. She
looks adorable when she wakes up, messy hair and sleepy blue eyes peeking out
at me from her blanket cocoon.

“I’ll make it!” She smiles. “Will you take Tiny out?
His leash is by the door.”

Along with his monogrammed food and water bowl, his
toy pile and his wagon. Yes, wagon.

Me and Ms. Thang are gonna go round and round when
it comes to our kids. My sons will not be pansies and my little girls will not
be pageant brats.

Okay, so maybe my little blonde, blue-eyed princess
would look cute waving to her daddy from the stage, all frills and bows…

The pig starts whining at me, climbing precariously
close to my junk, breaking my trance. Was I just spacing out on mine and
Whitley’s babies? That’s something I’ve
never
done before
ever
.

“All right, Wilbur, let’s go out,” I grumble,
getting up.

“You’ll confuse him if you call him other names!”
she calls from the kitchen. My hummingbird has the ears of a werewolf. 

“What are you gonna do when he has to go live on the
farm?” I wrap my arms around her from behind, dropping a kiss on her cheek.
“Will I get all that leftover attention?” My mouth seeks her neck now. “‘Cause
I’ll take it.”

“Maybe,” she teases, and I could swear pushes her
butt into me just a bit. “I’ll make you pancakes while you take him out.”

God, I hope there’s no one outside, seeing me walking
a damn pig on a leash. The things men do for their women.

“I’ll clean up the living room when I get back in
since you’re cooking.” I steal another taste of her neck.

“No, leave it, I wanna sleep there again tonight.”

“Okay then,” I chuckle at her, already feeling my
back and legs stiffen up. “Come on, Porky.”

I keep walking as she scowls at me behind my back.
Yes, I’m sure.

“
T
here’s more?” she asks, her voice chipper
and anxious.

“Well, yeah, you didn’t think it took me all that
time just to set up the fort, did you?”

“I don’t know,” her shoulders pop up, “it
was
pretty fancy. Okay, okay, show me!”

I lower my hands, once again covering her eyes, and
scoot back, leaning against the beam behind me. “Go crazy, woman.”

It takes her a while, her face in delighted shock,
awe, eyes bulging as she slowly and meticulously takes in every single thing.
Her hands fly to her mouth, tears starting to roll down her cheeks as she
gasps, then shakes her head, and gasps again. “W-where? H-how?” She stutters,
then takes a deep breath. “You—how’d you?”

Now I move in, pulling her into my arms, kissing the
top of her head as she moves into full-blown sobbing. “You like it?”

She nods, face buried in my shirt, and my heart
bursts knowing I’ve shown her just a hint of what she means to me. I will never
stop listening when she talks, never stop hearing what she’s really trying to
tell me, and for sure never get comfortable thinking I can’t outdo my last big
surprise.

“Come on, pretty girl, let’s go have a closer look
before everyone gets here.” I lift her face with both hands and wipe her
drenched cheeks. “Happy tears,” I mumble, leaning over to kiss off what my
fingers missed.

“Who’s everyone?”

“The Crew.” I grin. “The best part of all this?
Having great friends to share it with. And don’t worry, the mud puddle will dry
up and grow back over when you’re tired of it.”

I’m not gonna lie, even with me, Zach, Sawyer and
Dane working like dogs, this was quite the project. In the middle of the
backyard, and the main event, is a super slide, complete with huge mud hole at
the end, dug and filled by Sawyer. The trampoline in the corner, assembled by
Zach and Dane, is covered in pre-filled Super Soakers.

Flowers of every color outline the entire perimeter
of her backyard, planted by all four of us. We’d also laid a rock pathway from
the patio, now adorned with white lights and tiki posts as well as a BBQ grill
and chef station, all the way to the 13 gallon pool. I can see it’s still not
quite full, all the balls and blow up seahorses and whatnot bobbing at almost
the halfway mark, but it will be soon enough. And at least it isn’t filled with
Jell-O like Sawyer suggested.

Yes, we’d gone crazy and her backyard now looks like
Funapalooza threw up in it. It’s maybe even a bit gaudy, and it’d put a huge
dent in my savings, but I know it was worth it. Even now, her smile can’t be
wiped off and a tear sneaks out every few seconds.

I lead her to the far corner, where the big tree
stands, to my favorite part. “Sit down and I’ll push you.” I kiss her softly,
holding still the swing I’d hung from the tree for her.

“Evan, I can’t believe you do all this for me.” She
sits in the swing, gripping the ropes. “This is the nicest thing anyone has
ever done for me, ever. And,
ohhh
,” her breath catches, exaggerated—she’s
spotted it. “Oh! Oh my God!” She stands, walking slowly to the tree. She traces
it with one fingertip, finally looking back at me. “You carved our initials in
the tree?”

“I did.” I give her a wink and flirtatious grin,
making my way to her.

“You are so,” she turns in my arms, looking up at
me, “kind and romantic and unbelievably sexy. Perfect.”

She’d done such a fine job summing it up I don’t
think any more words are necessary. Putting my mouth to better use, I devour
hers, reaching under her butt to lift her against me, then back her up against
the tree.

“That too rough on your back, hummingbird?”

“No,” she moans, “but don’t you mean swan?” she
pants, digging into my hair and driving me insane, “or angelfish?”

“Huh?” Actually, never mind, I can’t take it another
second. I have to see her, taste test a new part of her. I brace her harder
against the tree with my hips and move a hand to her top, flicking open button
after button until her pale pink bra comes into view. Whitley has an ample
chest, and the skin falling out of the cups is too inviting, making it
impossible to stop myself as I pull the lace down, freeing her breasts to
bounce out before my eyes.

Damn, definitely more than a handful, with dusky
pink nipples hard and begging. “You’re gorgeous, Whit.” I dip my head to try
and smother myself, thinking it’d be a helluva way to go. “Tell me this is
okay,” I beg
.

“It’s so okay, oh my God, yes.” Her head falls back,
her chest pounding.

I know she can feel my body’s response, and, caught
in the haze of lust, I grind myself between her legs, our tortured moans
synchronized.