Billionaire's Touch(59)

He let out a low growl as she nipped at his earlobe.

“Fuck! Have some mercy, woman,” Evan rasped. “Fuck me. Now.”

Okay . . . maybe he wasn’t able to be completely submissive to her, but it was enough. She speared one of her hands into his hair and pulled his ear against her lips. “I plan on it, big guy. I want to ride both of us to a cataclysmic orgasm. I’ve wanted that since the moment I first saw you.”

“You can start anytime,” Evan replied desperately. “Jesus, you feel so damn good, Randi.” He lifted his arms and stroked his hands slowly down her back and cupped her ass. “There isn’t another woman who feels and smells like you do.”

She could sense Evan’s anguish, the difficulty he was having not taking what he wanted and needed. But he didn’t. He trusted her.

“There isn’t a man quite like you, either,” she confided as she lightly, teasingly brushed her lips against his.

Lifting her hips, she positioned Evan at the opening of her channel and started to slowly slide down his length.

“Oh, fuck, yeah!” Evan groaned, arching his back to help her.

Randi was ready to ride him into oblivion. In fact, she couldn’t wait a moment longer. Sinking down on him, she buried his cock completely inside her, letting out a satisfied moan as she did.

She started a slow, sensual grind, but Evan was having none of it. Granted, he didn’t open his eyes once, but he grasped her hips and held her in place as he pounded up into her . . . over and over again.

In the end, it was Randi who got lost in sensation, focusing only on the feel of Evan permeating her entire being and stealing the breath from her body as they worked toward a common goal: a stunning, fireworks-seeing, sweaty climax.

Supporting herself on his shoulders, she met Evan stroke for stroke, slamming down on him as he thrust his hips up, creating a fullness and a volatile joining that drove her crazy.

“It’s going to happen,” she panted as she felt her impending orgasm.

“I know.”

Looking down, she noticed his eyes were open and watching her before the massive waves of her climax hit her. Evan grasped her hands and held her upright as her channel clenched down on his cock, milking him of his own release as she threw her head back and screamed his name.

He groaned and thrust into her one more time before staying buried deep inside her as he came.

Randi collapsed on top of Evan still holding his hands. He untangled their fingers and wrapped his strong arms around her back, keeping her plastered against him.

When they finally caught their breath, Evan muttered against her ear, “You’re right. Meditation is stimulating to the body and mind. I think it should be practiced at least a few times a day.”

Randi actually giggled. It wasn’t often that Evan made a joke, but he seemed to be doing it more frequently in the last few days. “That was what I would call a much-modified version of what I wanted to teach you,” she scolded.

“I think I like the modified version,” Evan decided as he stroked her hair. “I’m feeling very relaxed.”

Randi leaned up so she could look at him. “You don’t really want to meditate for real, do you?”

“I thought you wanted me to find happiness. Right now, I’m happy. I’m ecstatic whenever I’m with you, no matter what we’re doing.”

Randi’s heart stuttered as she saw the serious look in his beautiful eyes. The truth was . . . so was she.

Don’t do this to yourself, Randi. Don’t fall for Evan Sinclair. Even if he cares about you, he never wants to have a child, and you know you love kids. It might feel good right now, but the two of you together forever isn’t an option. He’s leaving, and you’ll still be here in Amesport teaching.

Unable to utter an answer, Randi just buried her head against Evan’s neck and savored the unique scent of him and the feel of his body close to hers.

Right now, she didn’t want to think about what would happen in the future. Right now was all she had.





CHAPTER 16



Randi tried to shake off the strange residual emotions following her visit to the Amesport cemetery on the way home that day.

It felt odd that somebody else was apparently visiting her foster parents’ graves on a daily basis. The path was still clear, even though they’d had some light snow since she’d last been there, and the calla lily and the rose were still entwined and lying between the markers. The problem was . . . they were perfect. There was no way they were the same flowers. The two she’d put together would be frozen and dead. The only explanation was that somebody was there daily, moving the snow and leaving new flowers on the graves.