Bringing Home the Bad Boy (Second Chance #1)(57)

She’d blinked at Glo, who shot Ash a glare. Charlie thought for a second the other woman would stand and leave. Instead, she hooked her purse over the chair and snapped her fingers for the waitress. “Two shots of Jack,” she ordered, then grabbed the young girl’s arm before she left and corrected, “Hell, just bring us the whole bottle.”

Charlie’s eyes had gone to the glass of wine she hadn’t finished. Evan’s beer bottle was half full.

“Drinking to forget, sweetheart?” Ash had prodded Gloria.

“Yeah,” she’d answered. The waitress arrived with a bottle and two glasses. Glo poured the shots and slid one to Asher. “And so are you.”

Charlie considered the scene the entire ride home, finally admitting to herself that while it wasn’t fun, it sure was educational.

She wasn’t a mess like Asher, and she wasn’t as stubborn as Gloria. And she refused to advance blindly, ignoring signs that clearly read: BRIDGE OUT.

Although with Evan, it was more of a YIELD sign. But Charlie would no longer hold up the STOP.

So when she’d invited him over, she’d done so with a clear, sober head, and a willing spirit.

Now that his hands were sliding along her waist and pulling her close, his tongue diving into her mouth, she was a million percent sure she’d chosen wisely.

He tasted like toothpaste, and she liked that he’d cleaned up to come over here, that he’d anticipated seeing her, kissing her. Though from the look on his face when she stripped, he hadn’t anticipated seeing her in the skimpiest undies she owned.

She’d found the lingerie stuffed into the back of her sock drawer, purchased long ago and since forgotten. Shoved aside for sturdy, but pretty, cotton—the most practical choice for a woman not currently having sexytimes with anyone.

“Ace,” he muttered almost reverently against her neck. He swept her hair off her shoulder and kissed it, giving her a full-body shudder. “You steal my breath away.”

Another kiss. More shuddering.

The warmth of his palms slid the chill aside. The only sounds his firm, suctioning lips as they moved over her skin, and her own erratic heartbeat. She swallowed thickly, nervous for reasons she didn’t quite understand. He had seen her naked before. More naked than she was now.

When he pulled his head up to look at her, a few strands of her hair stuck to the stubble surrounding his lips. He tugged them away. Those lips grinned. A salacious, sexy grin revealing his dark intent as clearly as if he’d said it.

Then he did.

“This time, Ace, you come with me inside you.”

She gulped.

He pulled her close, brushed the tip of her nose with his. “Foreplay later, yeah?”

Oh yeah. She nodded.

“Say it,” he whispered.

“Foreplay later.”

“The other part,” he demanded.

Gathering every ounce of courage she had, she whispered, “I’ll come with you inside me.”

That must have been what he wanted to hear. He lit her up with another deep kiss, slanting his mouth and digging his hand into her hair. At the same time, his other hand traveled to the small of her back, moved to her ass, and squeezed.

“You’re ridiculously sexy.” He tongued her neck.

So was he. She clung to him, afraid she might lose it before they got to the bedroom. Her breathing had become so quick and hectic, she worried she might have to employ a paper bag soon. She hoped she could relax enough to enjoy herself—that he enjoyed himself.

Oh no.

What if he didn’t enjoy himself?

New worries shut her body down like a nuclear power plant on high alert. Sirens blared in her head. The low buzz that had fanned through her limbs began to ebb.

Evan sensed this. His head came up. “Ace?”

“Um…”

Come on, pull it together!

“Charlie?”

“I need a drink,” she whispered, pushing his shoulders away.

He tightened his hold on her waist.

“No, Ace,” he stated firmly.

Too late. The panic was already creeping in. The worry over her performance… or lack of good performance, taking over her thoughts.

“Just a little something…” She continued pushing against him. “Wine. A shot of rum…”

“No.”

Russell hadn’t always been satisfied after. Sometimes he hadn’t been able to keep it up during. If losing interest in the middle of sex wasn’t a testament to how poorly she performed in bed, she didn’t know what was.

Granted, Evan wasn’t Russell, but—

“Ace, dammit, look at me.”

She did. A muscle in his jaw flickered, at the same time his turquoise eyes went soft. Soft and warm and accommodating.

“Want you sober as a nun.” A whisper, followed by a gentle kiss. “Hands in my hair, gorgeous.”

She pointed toward the cabinet that held at least one bottle of wine. Blessed wine.

“Don’t want anything between us.”

“No?” she asked quietly. But was that really possible considering there was at least one unspoken entity between them?

He hugged his arms around her. “Hands in my hair.”

She did as he said, winding her fingers into his thick, dark strands.

“Hold on.”