Falling In (22 page)

“Tell me, Evangeline. Tell me, and I’ll stop. The kids can come in here any minute, so I’d hurry.” I can feel his stupid ass smirk against my skin.
Bastard
. He knows he’s got me.

“I was sitting on your kitchen counter just like yesterday, almost wearing the same dress, only it was black with white poppies. Your back was to me and you were making me lunch again, but I didn’t know what, so I asked you.” My breathing quickens as he continues his assault on my neck, nibbling my earlobe, my eyes closing from the tingling sensation that is overcoming my body.

“What did I say?”

“You turned around and said, ‘Not sure yet, but I do know what I’m having for lunch.’ Then you stalked over to me, running your hands up my legs, pulling my dress up, then parting me wide open. For some reason I wasn’t wearing any panties, so my glistening pussy was on display, waiting to be taken. Devoured. And so you did. You yanked my spread-eagled legs forward and shoved your face in my wetness, licking and sucking. Twirling and swirling your tongue until my arms gave out and I was screaming your name.”

He stopped teasing me after the first sentence, my dream more than sparking his interest. Both of us are breathless now, and he’s looking at me like he’s going to reenact what I just confessed to him in about five seconds. I slide away from his warm body and walk toward the table where I discarded my tea. With shaky hands, I take a hearty sip of what now is cool, not-so-yummy goodness.

“Evangeline. That was—”

“Something you can’t
ever
do to me again. Not in
my
house. And certainly not when my kids are down the fucking hall.” I cut him off, whispering harshly. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I need to settle my damn nerves, which is nearly impossible with this man near me.

“I’m sorry.”

I attempt to shake off his touch that I can still feel lingering on my skin. It’s like every time he puts his hands on me, he leaves a brand, an imprint. It stays with me long after his hands retreat from my body.

“The bus will be here in five minutes. I’m going to go get the kids.”

I leave the room before he can even think about responding. I don’t want to talk to him right now. I know I probably have no reason to be pissed, but whatever, I am. He can’t just push me up against a wall anywhere and anytime he likes. This thing between us isn’t anything I want other people to witness just yet. I mean,
I
don’t even know what this is. I have no idea what’s going on. I don’t know what I want to come out of it. I don’t know what’s happening, or what’s going to happen. I just—I just don’t know.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I want to bang my head against the wall and maybe punch Jake. And quite possibly kiss him, because even after all that’s said and done—
I want to
. And frankly, all of this is my fault, and wouldn’t be happening if I had never given into him yesterday. The lines wouldn’t be blurred now. No one would be pushing anyone up against the pantry door, threatening to finger the other if they don’t tell that person about a goddamned sex dream.
Yep, I’m a mess
. But before I can clean that mess up, I need to get my kids out of this house before Jake attacks me again. I can feel him behind me without turning around. That stupid internal tether is rearing its annoying head again.   

“Hey early birds, it’s about time to catch the bus. So, TV off, booties off the couch, and grab your backpacks, so you can go learn something today! Yay!” Ben and Cady laugh, while Dyl rolls his eyes.
Yeah, he’s seven going on seventeen
. I watch them do as I say, never once glancing back over to Jake—which is a mighty hard feat, considering he has been glaring at my back since he walked into the room.

I walk over to the door and open it for the kids, telling them that I’m going to watch them from up here. They both give me a kiss on the cheek before leaving the house. Cady waits on the porch for Ben to give Jake a hug goodbye. From the corner of my eye, I can see him whisper something in Jake’s ear, and Jake shakes his head before giving him another hug. He walks over to me and also wraps his precious little arms around my waist, my eyes finally locking onto Jake’s as I hug Ben back. Once he releases me, he walks over to Cady, grabs her hand, and they’re off. I stand there for a minute before the bus comes. Then I watch the bus drive away, wrapping my arms around my waist, a lot like Ben, only less comforting. Once I can’t see the familiar yellow anymore, I step back into the house and close the door behind me.

“Look, Evangeline—”

“Don’t apologize again. You don’t need to.
I
do. I keep throwing these mixed signals at you, and I know it’s hard to keep up. It’s just that—the thought of my kids walking in on me with someone who isn’t their dad—”

I’m unable to finish that thought. I couldn’t bare that happening. I feel his hand take mine, squeezing it gently. I open my eyes, not realizing I had them shut, and find his, kind and understanding.

“I know. Okay. I won’t do that again. It’s going to be okay, Evangeline.” I can only nod my head, wishing like hell that’s true, but knowing in my heart it’s far from it.

***

“Stop looking at me like that.” I say to Jake, glaring over my laptop. I’m doing some editing work for a friend that I need to get done this week, before the kids are out of school for summer. It’s impossible to get anything done with those monster twins running around.

“I can’t help it. You look so hot right now. I mean, you pretty much look hot every second, but when you’re working, it’s different. You’re in your element. It’s—seductive.”

“Like you in the kitchen.”

“What?”

I fight the blush that I can feel plastered on my tan skin, but it’s no use. He raises his eyebrows, urging me to elaborate. I roll my eyes.

“When you’re in the kitchen, you transform into this dominant and meticulous chef. You ooze confidence, and you know exactly what you’re doing. It’s borderline cocky, but in a good way. And the way you move around, your muscles tensing with each slice or cut, it’s sexy. Sensual.”

“I can think of something else I do quite well that happens to meet that same description. We only need a bed—or the kitchen would work, too. Also the wall, table, or even this couch. I could show you how dominant and meticulous I can be on this couch.”

He licks his lips and I bite mine, our eyes both zeroing in each other’s movements. He sets my Kindle down on the coffee table, the book he’s been occupying his time with for the last hour now cast aside. He’s onto better things, and by ‘things,’ I mean
me
. He takes my laptop and places it next to the Kindle, never taking his eyes off me. The eyes that are promising something is about to happen, but most definitely shouldn’t.
Especially in this house
.

With my back against the arm of the couch, he stalks up my legs on hands and knees, now hovering over where my discarded laptop was and just stares me down, as I do the same. The heat builds around us, rising and coating my skin like my favorite lotion. The muscles in my pussy twitch with an eagerness that I shouldn’t be feeling. Our faces begin to move closer until our lips are about an inch apart.

“Jake.”

“It’s okay.”

I close my eyes and touch my lips to his. He automatically opens his mouth, inviting my tongue to explore inside. I grab onto the back of his head, fisting his hair tightly as I pull him closer, needing to feel his body flush with mine again. We groan in unison as he lands on top of me, his bulge pressing into my core that is aching so badly right now, I’m afraid of what I might do. He clasps my hands above my head in one of his, while the other one begins to lower down to my breast, touching me over my t-shirt. He’s hesitant at first but when he realizes I’m not wearing a bra underneath, his touch becomes strong, powerful, almost rough—and damn, it feels
good
. It’s like he can’t get enough. He’s a man possessed with want, and from the feel of his shielded steel-hard cock grinding against my dampened leggings, he wants me really fucking bad. He tears his mouth from mine to look into my eyes, and pure passion is radiating through those mint green pools.

“God, I love it when you don’t wear a bra. It’s so damn sexy.”

We both smile, then return our mouths to each other. Our tongues scrape against each other harshly, lips are being pulled and nibbled, while moans of pleasure fill up the room, bouncing off the walls. Our kissing is frantic, like we’re trying to get as much done as possible before we get caught, before the reality of the situation rears its ugly, guilty head.

Jake tugs on my nipple through my shirt, rolling it between his fingers, then does the same to the other.
Oh fuck, this is getting too far
.

But oh goddess, it feels so good
.

This is bad.
So very, very bad
.

His hand leaves my breasts and slowly travels down to the hem of my shirt.

“Evangeline,” he says on a moan as I suck on his lower lip.

“
Hmm
?” He stops kissing and looks at me with his questioning and lust-filled eyes. Then he looks down at his hand that is now halfway underneath the bottom of my shirt. He looks back at me, hoping—
needing
me to understand, to grant him access to something that doesn’t belong to him.

“Can I touch you?” he says it so softly, caringly.
Appreciatively
. Like I would be giving him the greatest gift he would ever receive.

This is it.
This is that moment where I decide what happens next. I close my eyes and try to search for the answer.
Do I give in to my desires? Or do I stay loyal to the man that has my heart? Do I do what I want, or what I should?

Could I live with myself, going further than I already have? Betraying Cole’s trust?

Could I live with myself, not knowing what might have been?

“Evangeline?”

I pry my eyes open and lock them onto Jake’s. His brow is creased, his face reflecting the uncertainty in his eyes. But his hand is still in place, imprinting on my buzzing skin. I look down to his hand again, praying to find the answers in those five long fingers that are pressing into my lower stomach, waiting to crawl down my soft flesh and take what it wants. What
I
want.

Before I can overthink it, before I can lose my courage or let the guilt take over, I find myself about to nod a yes. And then I hear it. A familiar Jason Mraz song begins to play. A ringtone.
Cole’s ringtone
. My eyes immediately zone in on the phone vibrating against the wooden coffee table we bought at a thrift store, restoring it together after we bought this house. I pick it up, and just as it’s about to go to voicemail, I swipe
accept
.

“Hey.”

I can feel Jake’s eyes on me, feel the heated tension turn from passion to anger. I can feel it burn the back of my head as I stand up, removing my body from his, putting my back to him.

“Hey babe, how are you feeling?”

“Um, I’m okay.”

“You aren’t working, are you? I told you to just rest.”

“I did a little work. I have to finish editing that book I told you about. But I’m lying on the couch now.”

“Okay, well if you want, I can bring you home some lunch.”

“Um no, that’s okay. I’m not really hungry. I think I might just take a nap.” I lie again, adding it to the growing list of deceptions.

“All right, babe. Get some rest. I love you.”

I pause, my eyes wearily going to Jake, his elbows on his knees, staring at the wall in front of him with a clenched jaw.

“I love you, too.” Once those words leave my mouth, his face turns to me immediately. I see the hurt overcome his features. His body goes rigid, wincing as if I just sucker punched him in the gut, before putting his face in his hands in defeat. I end the call and place the phone on the table, never taking my eyes off Jake. I make the short distance to him, sitting down onto the coffee table in front of him, situating myself in between his legs. I reach underneath, pulling his chin up, bringing his face to mine. Hesitantly, I lift my fingers, gently caressing his face, tracing the worry lines and trying to take away whatever he’s feeling right now. His chiseled features slowly begin to relax, the distress leaving his body with each stroke. He closes his eyes and releases a deep breath.

“
Jake
.” I whisper tentatively, not really sure what I should say next.
What is the right thing to say here?
I’m not even sure I know right from wrong anymore. Everything is so skewed, I’m losing all semblance of better judgment.

He finally opens his eyes, and that shred of vulnerability he let me see is gone and replaced with a fierce determination. “I have to go.” He gets up so fast, I fall back onto the table on my forearms. He’s already halfway to the door before I realize he’s actually leaving. I sit up and scramble off the table, bolting in his direction. I grab his arm before he can reach the doorknob.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you. I’m
leaving
.”