Until June

  “I’ll still keep an eye on her,” I tell him, and his eyes stay locked on mine before he shakes his head and looks away, letting out a heavy sigh.

  “You wanna tell me why you’d do that?”

  “Because I’m in love with her.”

  His eyes narrow, and I realize Sage obviously has not talked to him about me and June’s past, or the fact we have a past, period.

  “You’re in love with her?” he repeats in disbelief.

  “I could lie to you about it, but yeah, I’m in love with her. Have been since the moment we met.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” He stands from his chair and puts his fist to the desk in front of him, leaning across it toward me.

  “I met her in Alabama, before I went to Afghanistan,” I say calmly, keeping my position.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  “Nope.”

  “Did you know she was my cousin when you started working for me?” he asks.

  “No, not until Sage asked me to look into Lane.”

  His eyes narrow before he drops his forehead. “This is fucked. How did I not know about this?” he asks the top of the desk.

  “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “You don’t think so? You fuck up with her, and I’m down one man, ’cause I’m gonna have to take you out.”

  My spine stiffens and I growl “I’m not gonna fuck up with her.”

  “You were with her, and then you weren’t. My guess is you’ve already fucked up with her.”

  He had a point—one I didn’t like, but a point nonetheless. Still, I continued on, “Can’t predict the future, but I know I regret everything I did to us. I also know how it feels to live without her, and I won’t do that again.”

  “I should’ve seen this coming.”

  “I’m not gonna say sorry.”

  “Jesus, Evan, you’re fucking locked up tight. No one knows shit about you, and then you come to tell me this shit, and expect me to just fucking deal with it, without questioning the shit you’re sayin’?”

  “I don’t expect anything. One: me and June are none of your concern. Two: no disrespect, but I don’t really give a fuck what you think about the two of us.”

  “You don’t give a fuck?” he asks low, cutting me off and leaning closer. Jax is a big dude, but I still have about two inches and thirty pounds on him. I’m not afraid of him, or anyone else for that matter. Once you’ve seen what I’ve seen, watched people die, and been up close and personal with death yourself, you know what real fear is. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this, Barrister?” he asks on a growl, leaning even farther across the desk.

  “Nothing, let the cards fall where they’re gonna fall.”

  Shaking his head, he stands, taking his hands from the desk. “This goes bad, and I’m gonna have no choice but to kick your ass.” He sighs, and I shrug. “This is fucked,” he mutters, taking a seat and rubbing his face.

  “I gotta get to June. You need anything else?” I ask, standing up.

  His head turns to the side, and he lets out a breath then asks, “Does my uncle know about the two of you?”

  “No, but he will.”

  “You may wanna wait to inform him of this shit until you and her are solid,” he suggests, looking at me.

  “I’m not waiting again. I should have forced her to be honest about us before, but I didn’t. That was my bad. This time around, I’m doing shit differently,” I tell him, and he roars with laughter, doubling over with the force of it.

  “Oh, shit. I need to be there when you tell him this,” he says through his cackles as I head for the door.

  “I’ll get you a front row seat,” I mutter, before shutting the door behind me.

  Once out of the office, I back my bike out of my spot and head for the compound to exchange my bike for my truck. Pulling into June’s driveway twenty minutes later, I look at the dash, seeing it’s ten ’til five. I park behind her bug, shut down The Beast, and hop out. Making my way down the sidewalk, the front door opens, and I notice she’s dressed, but not dressed to go out. Her hair is up, and she’s wearing a plain, peach-colored tank and short jean shorts with bare feet.

  “You change your mind?” I ask as I make my way up to the front door.

  “Um…no, I…” She looks up at me, seeming uncomfortable. “I thought we could eat dinner here?”

  “Yeah?” I ask, wrapping my hand around her hip, pressing her into the house before shutting the door closed behind me.

  “I kinda had a hangover and—”

  “I’m good with us having dinner here,” I mutter, cutting her off, and she smiles, taking my hand and leading me down the hall. “Do you want me to go out and pick something up, or do you want to order in?” I ask, and she looks at me over her shoulder.

  Smiling tentatively, she murmurs, “I already cooked.”

  “You didn’t have to do that, ’specially if you’re not feeling well.”

  “I wanted to,” she says, and I follow her into the kitchen. As soon as we reach the threshold between the kitchen and living room, I’m hit by the overwhelming smell of rosemary chicken. It’s one of the things she used to make for me when she came to my place on the weekends, something I told her I loved on our first date.

  “Baby,” I whisper, feeling my chest tighten when she drops my hand and grabs a set of potholders off the counter to open the oven. Pulling out the baking dish holding the chicken, she sets it on the stovetop then pulls out a pan I know holds scalloped potatoes. As soon as she has the pan with the potatoes on the stove, I shut the oven, mold my front to her back, press my mouth to her neck, and breathe her in.

  “Evan.”

  “Yeah, baby?” I ask against her skin, feeling her pulse beat against my lips.

  “Um…are you okay?” she asks, her tone filled with uncertainty.

  “Fuck yeah,” I mutter against her neck and I feel the tension drain from her muscles.

  “Are you hungry?” she inquires quietly, placing her hands over mine on her waist.

  “Definitely,” I rumble, feeling her shiver.

  “We should eat,” she whispers after a long moment.

  “Give me a second,” I whisper back, needing this moment, her in my arms, her scent in my lungs, proving I’m alive and here with her.

  “Ev.” She turns in my arms, placing her hands on either side of my neck. “Talk to me,” she prompts quietly, searching my eyes.

  “I’m good.” I lean forward and run my nose along hers. “Great, actually.”

  “You seemed like you were somewhere else.”

  “I’m right here,” I assure her quietly, because it’s the fucking truth. I just had no clue we’d be here again. I never thought we had a shot, didn’t dare to even dream she would welcome me into her house and prove once more how fucking stupid I was by letting her go, when she is the kind of woman to remember something as small as what my favorite meal is.

  Searching my eyes again, she lets out a deep breath then looks away. “I got some beer. Find something to drink and I’ll get our plates ready.” I know from her tone that she’s annoyed or disappointed, but I have no clue what she’s searching for or what answer she wants. I’m being as honest as I can be right now.

  “Kiss me, and then I’ll get a beer,” I pull her closer until her tits are pressed into my chest and her hands are forced to slide around the back of my neck.

  “I don’t remember you being this bossy.”

  “I probably wasn’t,” I tell her, leaving out the fact that I know what it’s like to live without something—something I liked a fuck’uva lot—and since I don’t have to be without it anymore, I’m going to enjoy it when I can get it, even if I have to demand it.

  “Ev.” Her forehead comes to rest against my chest as her head drops forward and her hands slide down my chest and around my back. “This…” She lets out a breath then continues quietly, “I dreamt of you…” She pauses, pressing deeper into my chest. “You used to ha
unt me, and I…” My gut gets tight as she pauses again. “I don’t know if this is real. It can’t be real.”

  “It’s real,” I rumble.

  “How can it be?”

  “You just have to believe that it is, beautiful.” Wrapping her hair around my fist, I pull her face out of my chest and tilt her head back, taking the kiss I asked her for.

  “Harder,” I command, wrapping my hands around her hips.

  “No,” she whispers, sliding down slowly, so fucking slow I feel my balls draw up.

  “Harder, June,” I repeat, ready to lose it, not wanting to come until she does. After we ate her really fucking good food, we settled in front of the TV, cuddling. I had my hand up the back of her tank, my fingers roaming across her smooth skin as we watched some TV show she swore I needed to watch. It was about a detective in New York and a woman who was covered in tattoos, which happened to be clues to cases they were working on. My mind wasn’t on the show, even though I had to agree the premise was cool. Instead, my mind was on her body, lying against mine, on her couch, in her living room, in her house, doing something normal, something I knew we would have had if I hadn’t fucked us up.

  But when she started squirming on me, her legs fidgeting, I knew she wasn’t thinking about the show anymore either. I didn’t plan on taking her. I would have been happy holding her on her couch, in her living room, in her house, but my beautiful girl had other plans, and I knew this when her warm, soft hand wrapped around my cock, and making out turned into me fingering her until she came and then her straddling my lap, which brings us to now.

  “I want to feel you,” she breathes, dropping again and again, doing it slow.

  Torturous.

  “Fuck.” I buck up into her then lift her up with my hands under her ass, hearing her squeak as her limbs wind around me. Moving across the house to her bedroom, I push the door open, move to the bed, put one knee into the mattress and then the other, never losing our connection as I settle her on the bed. “Hands above your head.”

  “What?” she whimpers as I slam into her once.

  “Hands above your head,” I repeat, sitting back on my knees. Her hands tentatively move above her head, and I put mine behind my neck to pull my shirt off then pull her tank off. Dropping my head, I pull her breast into my mouth and cup the other one.

  Her hands move to my head, and I pull from her touch and growl, “Hands above your head, June. I tell you again and I’m spanking you.” Her walls contract, and her already erratic breathing turns choppy, but still, her hands move above her, this time wrapping into the blanket. Dropping my face again, I pull her other nipple into my mouth and tug hard. I love her breasts, they’re small but so fucking sensitive. I know from experience she can come from me just playing with her tits.

  “Ev,” she whimpers, wrapping her long legs around my hips.

  Letting go of her nipple with a pop, I settle myself over her. “You wanted to play, you got me worked up.” I flick her clit. “I’m gonna give you what you want, but this time, we’re doing things my way.” Her eyes flare and her hands clench into the blanket above her head again as her tongue swipes across her bottom lip. Rising to my knees, I hold on to her hips and slide into her slowly, slower than she was going, then skim my hands up to her breasts, watching her back arch. “Fucking beautiful.” Roaming my hand from her breast and down her stomach, I circle her clit with my thumb, keeping the pressure light.

  “Please,” she hisses, putting her feet to the mattress raising her hips.

  “I want to feel you,” I use her words against her, keeping my strokes gentle and my thumb even lighter. Her walls tighten around my cock, and I bite my lip against the exquisite beauty then roll my thumb over her clit. Her hips buck on an inward thrust, and I fight the urge to pound into her.

  “I…” Her head jerks side-to-side against the bed and her back arches, her toes and head the only thing on the mattress as she comes hard. Her pussy clenching, pulling me deeper into her. Bending over her, I pull her nipple into my mouth and roll my thumb in tighter circles around her clit, dragging out her orgasm until she’s screaming my name and soaking my cock.

  Flipping her to her stomach, I pull her hips high then slide back in. Moving my hand to the back of her neck, I hold her shoulders down to the bed then fuck her like a mad man, so hard that the headboard bangs loudly against the wall and the picture above the bed rattles. Lifting her with an arm around her chest, I impale her on my length. Hearing her whimper, I wrap my hand around her jaw and turn her face toward me, thrusting my tongue into her mouth, while I work my cock slowly deep inside of her. Her hands move up cupping her breasts. I pull my mouth from hers so I can watch her hands work her tits and her face as she pants.

  “Do you love my cock, baby?” I thrust in slowly. Her dazed eyes meet mine and her head dips to the side as her bottom lip disappears between her teeth. “Answer my question.” I slide one hand between her legs over her clit.

  Her teeth release her lip and the word yes leaves her mouth breathlessly as I slide back in deep, moving my fingers faster over her. “Oh, God.” Her head drops back to my shoulder as her fingers cover mine then push lower to our connection.

  “Jesus.” My mouth drops to her shoulder and my teeth lock onto her skin as she comes again, taking me with her this time. Planting myself deep inside her, I squeeze my eyes tight, never having felt what I’m feeling right now, not even with her the first time, which happened to be the best I ever had. Releasing her skin from my teeth, I kiss the spot then roll us to the bed and adjust her against me as I try to get my breathing back under control, along with my heart.

  “That…I don’t even have words for that,” she mutters, pressing her sweat-soaked skin deeper into mine.

  “Yeah,” I agree, wrapping my hand into her hair, tipping her head back and placing a kiss to her mouth then forehead before tucking her face against my chest.

  “Will you stay the night?” she asks after a long moment.

  Dipping my face to hers, I use my fingers under her chin to make myself clear. “You couldn’t make me leave, beautiful.”

  Her eyes search mine for a long time. Finally, she puts pressure against my fingers and dips her chin, whispering, “Okay.”

  We lie there for a while longer, so long I feel myself doze off, and then I feel her move and I roll her to her back.

  “I’m gonna take care of the condom. Stay here.”

  “I wanna clean up.”

  “Stay,” I repeat, kissing her softly. At her nod, I roll from the bed and go to the bathroom. Opening cabinets, I find her washcloths and toss one into the sink under the hot water while I dispose of the condom. Heading back to the room, I see she moved to bury under the covers. Pulling them away from her, I ignore her startled gasp then slide her legs apart, cleaning her up gently. Taking the rag back to the bathroom, I toss it in the sink then head right back to bed, getting in and pulling her back into my arms.

  “I should go turn out the lights and stuff,” she mutters sleepily against my chest as her arm slides over my abs.

  “I’ll get them in a bit. Sleep, baby,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head. Her answer is to cuddle closer. I don’t sleep. I listen until her breathing turns even then slide out from under her. I head to the living room, grab our clothes from there, shut down the house, and then fold our stuff and set them on the bench at the end of her bed. When I get back into bed, her body burrows into mine and she whispers, “Ev,” like she did earlier that day when she was asleep.

  “I’m here, beautiful.”

  “Yeah,” she sighs, and then her body goes soft. I adjust us so she’s half under me and follow her off to sleep, not realizing she only calls me Ev when she’s asleep or when I’m deep inside of her. Any other time, she calls me Evan.

  Chapter 6

  June

  “This tastes like strawberry milk,” I mutter to JJ, taking another shot of the creamy pink-colored tequila.

  “It’s Tequila Rose, bitch, not
strawberry milk.” She laughs, pouring herself a shot.

  “Still tastes like strawberry milk.” I grin.

  “Yeah, except the fact you’re drunk proves it’s tequila.”

  She wasn’t wrong. I was drunk. Actually, I wasn’t really drunk, but I was on my way there.

  “You have a point,” I mutter, and she rolls her eyes, releasing a breath, and I know what’s coming. I knew the second I stepped out of my car when she yelled at me from her porch that she was coming over to “talk.” Then she showed up twenty minutes ago with a bottle of tequila and told me to drink.

  “So tell me what the fuck happened. Last time we had tequila, you told me you and Hot Guy’s history, how you two got together, how it was when he joined the military, and what happened since you moved here. You seemed pretty firm in the idea you wanted nothing to do with him. Obviously, that didn’t pan out, ’cause his tongue was down your throat and his hand on your bare ass this morning when I was leaving for work,” she states, pouring me another shot.

  I frowned. “My ass wasn’t bare.” And it wasn’t. I put on panties and a shirt when Evan pulled me from bed and told me to walk him to the door this morning before he left.

  “Whatever, that’s besides the point,” she mutters then continues on. “The point is he obviously stayed the night and you obviously gave him the cookie. What happened? Spill it, bitch.”

  “I’m stupid.” I close my eyes, dropping my forehead to the granite countertop in front of me. Even knowing that, knowing I was being stupid, I was still doing it. I couldn’t help myself. The second he touched me, I knew I would give him anything he asked for.

  Totally stupid.

  The positive: I knew what the outcome would be. I knew he wouldn’t stick around, so while I had him, I would attempt to help him get past whatever it is I saw in his eyes. That raw anguish he tried to hide. And while I did that, I would have as much amazing sex as I could get, while carefully guarding my heart so it wouldn’t be crushed anymore than it already had been.