Light up the Night (Firehouse Three #2)(32)

For now, this was enough. He wanted more, would never not want more, but he could be patient.

And when her lips parted, and her tongue gently passed his, he deepened the kiss. Tasting her was as delicious as it had been the night before, and with his eyes closed he gave his passion reign.

With lips, and tongue, and hands, he showed her just how much he wanted her. How even though it had only been hours since he held her, he was dying to do so again.

She arched against him, returning his passion kiss for kiss, touch for touch. They’d barely gotten started, and already he was hard as a tire iron.

Her breasts were soft against his palms, nipples pebbled and hard, begging for his touch, for his kiss. Pulling the tail of her polo free, he rubbed his hands up her back to the clasp of her bra. He’d just started the work of unhooking it when she tore her mouth away and sat up, scooching back toward the door.

“No,” she gasped, staring at him with wide eyes. “No, I can’t.”

“Sorry,” Drake said, his own breathing ragged. “I shouldn’t have done that here in the car. Let’s go back to my place.” He reached for the keys to crank the engine.

“No, I can’t.”

“You’re right, sorry, I forgot about your dogs. We’ll go to your place.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Everly said, her cheeks darkening with some emotion he couldn’t name. She twisted her fingers in her lap. “I can’t do this again tonight.”

“Do what? Me?”

“Yes. No. I don’t—that’s not what I meant. I just…” she trailed off, looking out the open truck window. Drake wondered why his insides felt like the aftermath of a barnburner. “It’s moving a little fast, for me. Sorry.”

Even though frustrated lust was surging through every vein in his body, Drake just closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. He wanted her. But last night had showed him that he wanted more than just one night with her. For some reason, she wasn’t ready for more, and that had to be cool with him.

Even though he was about to explode on the spot.

“I’m sorry, Everly.”

Evidently his apology wasn’t what she was expecting, because the look she gave him was one of stunned surprise. “What?”

“I said I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything you aren’t ready for.” He leaned over and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss on her cheek. “Have a good night, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She looked at him for a long minute, like he’d just grown two heads or some shit. Drake just sat calmly, smiling, hoping his flagging erection was calm enough to be less obvious now.

“Are you sure? You’re not mad?”

“Mad? No. Of course not. I wanted you, I still do, but if you want to wait, that’s fine and I respect that.”

He meant every word.

“Thank you,” she said, looking pleased, and confused, and a little frustrated. He understood most of those emotions, because he was feeling them himself.

As she opened the truck door and climbed out, Drake cranked the engine. Everly looked back at him as he waved goodbye to her.

“Get in your car,” he said quietly as she crossed the parking lot. “Crank the engine, and then I can leave.”

He followed her Jeep from the lot, taking deep, cleansing breaths as he did so.

He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong. But sometime between last night and this morning, things had gone weird between them. It’s not that he needed to have sex with her right away. He wanted to, of course, but he wasn’t the kind of dickhead that would refuse to hang out with a girl he liked if she wouldn’t put out.

He was more interested in the reason why she was denying herself sex that she very clearly wanted.

As Drake maneuvered back toward his side of town, he mulled the problem over and over in his mind. But no matter which way he looked at it, there wasn’t an easy solution.

He’d have to pull in some reinforcements for this. Hunter had been weirdly MIA over the last couple of days. They usually saw one another at the gym, even on days off. But he hadn’t even answered his phone. But Hunter might have some insight into this, so he’d have to track that * down.

One way or another, he would solve the mystery that was Everly Pitts. And they would sleep together again.

Hopefully, sooner rather than later.





11.

Back at home, Everly was ready to jump out of her skin.

Even the dogs were avoiding her. She’d let them out, fed them dinner, and now they were in the living room curled up on the couch because she was pacing up and down the hall as if frustrated lust’s cure was a marathon walking session.

No. She’d done the right thing. The skin of her fingers burned as she twisted them together, trying like hell to reason with herself. Footsteps echoed along the hall. Saying no was exactly the right thing, because she needed time, didn’t she?

Her stomach flipped over at the memory of his large, hot hands caressing her breasts. Slumping against the wall, she covered her face with her palms and groaned.

Damn it. Time wasn’t the issue. She’d gotten scared. That was all it was. Her feelings, her passion were too big, and she hadn’t known how to handle it so she’d just run away like the chicken-shit she really was inside. Her lower belly was still throbbing with the memory of Drake’s sweet invasion from the night before, and when faced with a repeat performance, what had she done?