FIVE
Ellie
I COULDN’T BREATHE. I literally couldn’t. Not while Mr Evans stared at me as if he wanted to eat me alive.
And I wanted him to.
Or rather, I wanted to climb into the back seat, crawl into his lap and put my hands on him. Discover the contours of his body, get his engine revving hard, experience the thrill of being at the wheel, handling all that raw power. Speeding down the track…
I had no idea how I’d gone from being embarrassed and expecting to be fired to having my hand on his cock, but it was probably to do with the way he’d goaded me.
I’d tried not to make a fuss about how he’d busted me staring at him in the mirror, tried to keep it jokey and light instead, but he hadn’t let me. He’d been all pissy and rude, and when I’d confronted him, he’d stared at me with those electric-blue eyes and told me bluntly that he wanted to fuck me.
I’d been as much shocked as I had been turned on.
Then I’d got angry at being turned on and things had somehow escalated from there until here I was with my hand on his cock, wanting to fuck him as badly as he apparently wanted to fuck me.
Thoughts of my father and Australis had vanished. The doubts I’d had about touching him, about the way he was looking at me, about memories of Mark had dissipated like smoke.
Because this was nothing like what had happened with Mark.
Mr Evans hadn’t made a grab for me, even though I’d put my hand on him. Even though I’d goaded him as much as he’d goaded me.
No, he’d just sat there and let me touch him, the hard set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes telling me exactly what my hand was doing to him.
It was intoxicating. He was a supercar in human form. Powerful, sleek, dangerous and difficult to manage. But, oh, how I wanted to manage him.
And why not? I knew how to drive a car. Driving a man wasn’t that different.
Are you sure that’s a good idea? This isn’t Davey and you’re not at school any more.
No, I was a grown woman and Mr Evans was definitely nothing like my high-school boyfriend.
He was more than that, he was a challenge I simply couldn’t resist, and wasn’t going to. Because who knew when I’d meet a man like this again?
I might not ever. In which case this would be my only chance to take him out for a spin…
Mr Evans was sitting sprawled out in the back seat, the whole car full of an intense, thrumming energy, like an engine at full rev.
And he was looking at me as if daring me to take him on.
God, he was mesmerising. Even sitting there apparently relaxed he looked dark and arrogant and powerful.
He wasn’t a beautiful man—he was too rugged, too rough and scarred, for beauty. Yet he was phenomenally attractive all the same. Blue eyes and a hard jaw, powerful chest and lean hips. A long, thick ridge behind the denim of his fly…
A thought suddenly occurred to me. ‘What about your blonde?’
‘What about her?’
‘She’s waiting for you.’
His glower intensified, but without a word he reached into his pocket and drew out his phone, looking down at the screen to type in a quick message. Then he threw the phone carelessly down on the seat next to him. ‘She’s not waiting any more. The hotel staff will make sure she’s looked after.’ The ferocity in his face grew impossibly fiercer. ‘Happy?’
I didn’t respond. Instead, with no grace at all, I launched myself out of the driver’s seat and into the back.
He reached for me before I’d completed the movement, catching me by my hips and pulling me into his lap so I sat facing him, my thighs spread on either side of his lean waist.
Right where I wanted to be.
For a moment all I could do was sit, my heartbeat thundering in my head as the reality of the situation began to form around me, a cage of heat, of sensation. Of need.
Sitting on him was exactly like sitting directly on top of a V8 engine.
Hard. Hot. And so powerful.
Excitement clogged my throat and I put my hands out to press against the wall of his chest and, sure enough, that was hard and hot, too, power thrumming through him.
God, he felt amazing.
‘Oh.’ I breathed out slowly, my palms pressing harder, lost for words. ‘Oh…wow… You’re…like…wow…’
His gaze burned up into mine, the rough lines of his face tight and fierce. His hands tightened and he shifted, flexing his hips, the ridge of his dick pressing against me in the most incredible way, sending a bolt of pleasure right through me and making me gasp aloud.
But Mr Evans wasn’t simply a machine waiting for me to turn the key. He was already running.
He lifted a hand, his fingers curling around my black tie, tugging on it at the same time as he leaned forward, catching my mouth with his.
Heat poured through me in an overwhelming wave.
I’d never had a kiss like it. Oh, I’d kissed my high-school boyfriend quite a bit, but comparing him to Mr Evans was like comparing a Mini Cooper to a Lamborghini. They were both men and both had mouths but, as far as similarities went, that was it.
Mr Evans took my mouth as if he owned it, his tongue pushing inside, exploring, demanding a response. He tasted rich and dark, like my favourite chocolate, with a sharp, spicy edge that took my hunger and amplified it somehow.
I leaned into him, my fingers spreading out on his chest, kissing him back with a desperation I couldn’t hide, unable to stop the moan that ripped from my throat.
His grip tightened on my tie in response, holding me still. Then he took the cap off my head and threw it on the seat next to him, before pulling my hair free of my ponytail and letting it spill over his free hand.
He made a soft, rumbling sound of approval before he took my mouth again in another hard kiss, nipping at my bottom lip, sending little electric shocks of pain jolting through me.
I groaned, the kiss intensifying the ache between my thighs.
Unable to keep still, I curled my fingers into the cotton of his T-shirt, tugging at it, desperate to touch him as I kissed him back, to feel his skin and the hard muscle beneath under my hands.
He didn’t move, ravaging my mouth, his grip keeping me right where I was. But I was in the driver’s seat and I wanted to drive.
Acting on an instinct I hadn’t known I’d possessed, I ground myself down on his lap, twisting so the hard ridge of his cock was pushing against my throbbing clit, sending hard, sharp pulses of pleasure spiralling through my veins.
A growling sound escaped him, the vibration of it echoing through my entire body, thrilling me, making me so aware of him and his power, his strength.
I’d never felt so hungry for something in my entire life. Hadn’t known I could even feel this hungry, as if it had been inside me all this time just waiting for the right man to release it.
My hands shook as I clawed at his T-shirt, dragging it up, and then the hot, oiled silk of his chest was bare and I was touching him, prickles of hair a delightful abrasion against my skin, the rock-hard feel of his muscles a glory.
Oh, yes, he was just like one of those cars, smooth and sleek, the bass rumble of his engine a delicious thrum as I touched him.
I could handle this. Oh, I could more than handle this.
I opened my mouth, kissing him harder, shifting my hips