The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)(31)

Because, in my haste to get Jessica and then get the hell to the hotel, I completely missed the paralyzing panic etched across Henry’s face.





IT TOOK EVERY ounce of self-restraint I possessed not to dive across the limo and pull the silky, red hair from her head. I wasn’t a violent person. And anyone could see that Jessica was a sweet girl. However, if I had to watch her whisper one more word in Evan’s ear, I was going to end up in jail.

She was sitting sideways on the seat with her knees hooked over his thigh, and his hand was lazily caressing her leg.

Caressing.

Her.

Leg.

The same hands that, not twenty minutes earlier, had been cupping my jaw as he’d kissed me to the point of insanity. The same hands that had grabbed my ass in a fevered rush to grind his dick against mine. The same hands I wanted wrapped around my shaft when I came in his mouth.

Those hands were mine.

Yep. Those hands were caressing Jessica’s leg.

If it wouldn’t have been such a downer on what I hoped would be a very good evening, I would have shoved her out the door. Or, at the very least, pulled over and dropped her off in a well-lit parking lot, maybe even left Carter with her for safety purposes. I didn’t particularly have a preference on which way it happened; I just needed her to get the f*ck away from him.

But no, I couldn’t do any of that. If I wanted those hands back on me, I had to figure out a way to have sex with her. And I assumed that would most likely require me to touch her naked body without gagging.

It appeared my bisexual ploy with Evan was backfiring on me big time.

He had already broached the topic of a threesome with her. I could tell by the blush of her cheeks as he’d whispered into her ear and then the way her eyes had slowly slid over to me.

There was no doubt that her answer was going to be yes. Evan was unbelievably sexy, and I was some kind of prize trophy for no other reason than the world had told her I was.

My fingers had been crossed that she was a prude who’d balk at the idea of premarital sex with just one man, much less two. But my heart sank when she’d enthusiastically nodded in my direction.

“Have another drink, doll,” I said, leaning forward to top off her glass of champagne.

She assumed my attention was a flirty gesture and seductively brushed her finger up my thigh.

Evan smiled.

I fought a cringe.

In reality, I was just trying to get her drunk. Not even Evan could argue the merits of seducing a drunk woman.

Blowing out a defeated breath, I settled back on my seat across from them, my gaze returning to his hand at her leg.

What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t a coward. I wasn’t confused about my sexuality. I wasn’t hard up or desperate. It would have only taken one sentence to end this whole charade: I’m not into women.

However, Evan’s words still rang in my ears. “I don’t do the gay thing.”

And really, I just wanted to do the Evan Roth thing. I wanted his hands on me again. And definitely his mouth. I wanted to peel his shirt off so I could finally get a good look at the muscles that covered his stomach…and his shoulders…and his chest. I wanted to feel his hard body pinning me into a mattress as his fingers threaded through my hair. I wanted to see his blue eyes staring into mine as he slowly pressed inside me.

Really, there was only one thing I didn’t want with Evan. And that was for a woman to be involved.

“Where’d you send Tabitha?” Jessica asked, swirling her champagne around in the flute.

“I gave her a private room and then had the hotel send a masseuse up to her. She’s probably assuming that I’ll be up later.” Because I told her I’d be up there later. I glanced at Evan. “I won’t.”

He winked, sending my stomach aflutter like a teenage boy watching Queer As Folk.

Jessica started kissing up his neck, and I quickly diverted my gaze. It wasn’t necessary to watch. I still felt every brush of her lips against his skin—in my gut.

“Henry,” Evan called.

Keeping my eyes aimed out the window, I replied, “Yeah.”

“I was just telling Jessica how we met.”

A laugh sprang from my throat. I absently lifted my champagne glass in a toast. “It’s a good story, Maverick.”

“Oh! Since you’re Maverick, can I be Goose?” She giggled.

My fingers spasmed around the glass as my patience with the whole situation evaporated.

Snapping my attention to her, I curled my lip as she slid a hand under the hem of his shirt. Those were my abs. And she was touching them.

Gritting my teeth, I leaned forward and pointedly whispered, “Goose dies, Jessica.”

“What the…” Evan said only to trail off.

And then that f*cking lip of his twitched, telling me that he was onto me. I would have cared if I hadn’t been praying that he’d take note and end this bullshit with her—and then move his ass over to me so we could finish what we’d started earlier.

“She hasn’t done anything like this before. I figured knowing a little bit more about us would go a long way in making her comfortable,” he said.

And what about my comfort, Evan? What about the fact that I’ve never done anything like this before and have no f*cking idea why I’m even considering it now?

I kept that to myself.