When she peeled herself off of him and sat fully up, Evan was surprised, but damn grateful. It was a hell of a view, and with her legs wide open and the pull of gravity, it brought her more fully down on him. All in all, a f**king fabulous combination, and he lay there and let Kendall do her thing.
Do it she was. There was no hesitation or shyness or excessive bounce. It was languid and sexy and confident, her eyes half-closed, her mouth open on soft sighs.
Evan wasn’t a man who had beautiful words or creative descriptions or an understanding of fine art or literature. But as he watched Kendall moving over him, her hands in her hair, her br**sts rising and falling with the tempo of her strokes, her swollen lips open in ecstasy and her back arched in a graceful curve, he thought it was moving poetry. Perfection. All things beautiful combined in that woman, this moment.
Gripping her hips, he matched her rhythm, thrusting deep up inside her with tight urgency. Then he came inside her, a hot explosion, his teeth gritted against the pleasure as her eyes widened. She did that girl thing, where she flexed her inner muscles on him, dragging his orgasm out longer, and as his convulsions slowed he let out a low groan.
“Sweet Jesus, Kendall.”
“No shit” was her reply.
Her hands fell out of her hair and did a slow stroll down her neck and chest, cupping her br**sts. The sight of that made his c**k jump again and she gave a little cry, an orgasm aftershock.
Then she lowered herself onto him, her hair falling across his face. Evan stroked her smooth back and swallowed hard. He was hot and sweaty and out of breath, but he felt awesome. Like he’d won at Daytona. Twice.
Her chin was on his chest as she looked up at him. “Umm. So what’s my nickname?”
Evan grinned. “I was thinking Jay would be a fine nickname for you.”
“Jay? What the hell does that mean?”
“Short for Va-jay-jay. After all, if you hadn’t said that, we wouldn’t be here right now enjoying this evening together.”
Her mouth dropped open and she looked like she might just tear him a new one, but then she laughed softly. “That is so completely offensive. Yet somehow funny.”
“That’s how it’s meant.” Evan slid his fingers up the curve of her waist, along the side of her breast. “I’m a funny guy.”
“And I’m reiterating that I don’t need a nickname.”
He laughed. “You come up with a better one. Bet you ten bucks you can’t.”
“How about Goddess? That works for me.”
“Huh.” He made a noncommittal sound. “That’s so typical.”
“And Jay is better?”
“Yeah, I mean how many women can have a nickname that’s so personal? Tailored right for them, instead of some generic one?”
“You’re a pig,” she said, yawning, her words completely without malice.
“You’re probably right.” Evan held Kendall close to him, very much aware that this could be it. All the time he was going to have with her, intimate and close and warm like this. So he kissed the top of her tousled head and wondered why he felt so content . . . why he felt so natural and normal with Kendall. Complete.
Which sucked.
Evan lay awake staring at the ceiling long after Kendall had fallen into the soft, even breathing of a deep sleep.
KENDALL woke up stiff and confused, her backside cold, her front sticky. Prying her eyes open, she realized she was still lying naked across Evan’s chest.
And he was staring at her.
Good God. What the hell had she been thinking? There was nothing smart about sleeping with a fellow driver, history or not.
“What time is it?” Mind racing through her schedule, she tried to remember what time her test drive was. She had to meet her crew chief at the garage before, at ten, and then . . .
“Good morning to you, too.”
Lips pursing, Kendall stopped trying to push herself off of Evan and looked down at him. He looked put out, and she instantly felt guilty, which pissed her off. “Good morning.” She wasn’t going to ask again, but her mind was spinning, and she realized she’d left her purse in the car. “Seriously, what time is it?”
Evan sighed, but he leaned over and turned the clock on his nightstand so she could see it. “Eight twenty-two.”
“Shit. I have to be at the track at ten.” Vaulting up, she tried not to feel hugely self-conscious that she was buck-ass naked as she climbed out of bed.
But failed as miserably as she had calculus when Evan let out a wolf whistle. Feeling her cheeks heat, she tried to figure out how to retrieve her panties without bending over a mere foot from Evan’s face. Not that she knew where her panties were. There seemed to be a whole mess of clothes scattered all over the floor, none of which were hers. She did spot her sweater and bent at the knees to pick it up, smacking one of them against the bed frame in the process.
“Ouch.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m getting dressed, what’s it look like?” As she held the sweater up in front of her, making sure to cover all her important girl bits, she tried not to shuffle. Her mouth was dry and she was blushing and she just wanted out of there.
God. Sleeping with her first love, who happened to drive for the same team as her, and was her competition. That had been just brilliant.
“If I can find my underwear, that is.”
Evan was lounging on the bed, fully naked and sporting a giant erection.
Kendall tore her eyes away from it. There was no point in checking out his package. She’d come, she’d seen, she’d come again.
Time to take her very happy hoohah home and concentrate on her career, not nailing Evan Monroe.
Ignoring the sudden betrayal of moisture between her legs, she scanned the floor and found her bra. Evan shifted and pulled her panties out from under his leg. “Here you go.”
She snatched them so fast her speed would have done a kung-fu master proud. His eyebrows shot up.
As she knelt down by the bed so he couldn’t see her and wiggled into her underwear, he propped himself up against the headboard. “So am I going to see you later?”
“Yeah, if you’re doing test runs today. I’ll be there from ten until probably two or so.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Of course it wasn’t. Shit. “What did you mean?”
“I meant am I going to see you again. Naked or otherwise.”
Awkward. And this was where Kendall was totally lacking in the sensibilities of the majority of her gender. She didn’t always know how to be delicate. Or maybe tactful was the better word. But she was going to try. “Evan . . . I’m really glad we had a chance to talk last night. I owed you a real apology for my behavior when we broke up, and I’m so glad to hear that I was mistaken about what had happened. But last night . . . it was just closure for us. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to see each other—like this—again.”