Risky (Torn Between Two Lovers #2)(14)

I’d been perfecting my MMA skills for years, but you’d never know it. My technique sucked right now, and I wasn’t really practicing. I’d grabbed my gloves and pulled on a pair of grappling shorts. I hadn’t bothered wrapping my hands. All I really wanted was to blow off steam, a hell of a lot of sexual energy that I couldn’t seem to lose elsewhere. For me, that meant I needed to punch something.

Thump, thump, thump!

I’d been beating up the bag with everything I had for over fifteen minutes.

But my dick was still hard.

Thump!

My breath sawed in and out of my lungs, and sweat was trickling from my face and landing on my drenched chest, but I still wasn’t spent. One glimpse of Eva in her f*ck-me dress had done me in.

I’d barely made it out of her room without lifting the hem of her dress over her ass and taking her against the wall. Usually, that’s exactly what I’d do. But the way I felt when I looked at her defied my usual reason.


I wanted her, but I also felt like I needed her. Experiencing emotions like that was foreign to me, and I didn’t like it.

I f*cked.

I sent nice gifts.

And I was done.

Britney was the only woman I’d ever had a monogamous relationship with, and look how shitty that had turned out. I’d never done exclusivity again, before or after my experience with the girlfriend-from-hell.

Strangely, I’d never been possessive of Britney or any other woman. I didn’t think it was in my DNA. The only reason I’d gone exclusive with Britney was because she had wanted it, and I had been pretty ambivalent at the time. There hadn’t been anyone else I wanted to f*ck, and I was okay with her being the only one. Too bad she hadn’t felt the same way, even though she’d been the one to insist on being my one and only.

Now, not only did I want to nail Eva until she couldn’t walk, but I was also covetous of her, possessive for the first time in my life.

“Jesus! I’m pathetic,” I growled, throwing random punches and kicks at the bag in front of me, breathing hard when I finally stopped.

Shucking the gloves as I headed toward the shower of my home gym, I knew Eva was probably ready and waiting upstairs for me to take her to the store.

I was feeling only slightly better as I got dressed after stroking myself to orgasm in the shower to fantasies of making Eva come in a variety of ways.

What in the f*ck was happening to me? There was any number of women I could call, but that wasn’t what I wanted, and it wasn’t going to satisfy me any more than my own hand just did.

I climbed the stairs in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, almost certain I was completely losing my mind.

*****



Watching Eva shop in a pair of skin-tight jeans and a sweater, obviously part of her new wardrobe judging by the designer label on the back pocket of the denim, was almost a sensual experience.

She clung to the food reverently, as though it were precious. When she stroked the damn turkey like it was some kind of grand prize, I wanted to come right there in the f*cking grocery isle.

“Is that the one?” I asked impatiently, anxious to get her away from the turkeys.

She sighed, and I wanted to absorb the satisfied sound with my mouth over hers.

“It should work good. There’s just the two of us. We’ll be eating leftovers for days, even with this one.” She hefted up what looked like an enormous bird to me, not that I knew anything about finding the right Thanksgiving turkey.

She looked happy, and so damn beautiful doing such a mundane task that I wanted to bottle her enthusiasm so I could get drunk on it later.

Moving forward, I tried to take the heavy item, but she refused.

I motioned for her to hurry up and add it to the cart. “Drop it in.” And get me the f*ck out of here now.

She didn’t dump it in the cart. Eva placed it in the bottom carefully, moving other items around to make room. Then, she gave the plump bird another small pat. “I think that’s it. We should be done. Your cupboards are well-stocked. You just didn’t have a few of the things we needed for a Thanksgiving dinner.”

I didn’t cook. My employees knew that. Most of my dinners were ordered in or easy to heat. Until Eva, I’d never even wondered who shopped for me, or how exactly what I wanted seemed to magically appear in my cupboards.

I was close enough to smell her delicate, intoxicating scent, and when she looked up at me and smiled, I decided that I wanted to keep this woman happy no matter what I needed to do.

Mine.

I felt the word all the way to my gut. Eva didn’t know it yet, but she belonged to me. At least for a little while.

“Eva?” A female voice squealed from down the aisle.

I watched as Eva turned around, her expression breaking into an even broader smile.

“Isa!” She ran to meet the woman halfway, the two females colliding in an awkward tangle of arms as they hugged happily.

“Where have you been? I was so worried when I couldn’t get in touch with you.”

The woman’s voice lowered after that comment, and I casually strode closer to listen to their conversation.

Isa—whoever the person might be to Eva—was absolutely stunning. She was a little taller than Eva, but around the same age.

Eva turned to introduce her friend to me. “Isa, this is Trace Walker, my…” She seemed to be searching for words.