Running Back to You (The Running Series, #1) (38 page)

“Well, if you must know, it’s probably more for me than it is for you. 
Natalie was the perfect accomplice.”  Now it’s starting to make sense.  There
was short time when she excused herself for a few minutes.  Evan must have sent
her on a mission.

When I enter his room, I find a black silk and satin sheer babydoll with
a matching thong.  Despite the fact that it’s black, it’s delicate and demure. 
It’s also no surprise that it fits perfectly.  Natalie is, indeed, very good at
her job.  As I join Evan in the living room, I’m feeling very sexy.

Evan is relaxing, stretched out across the sofa, watching a movie.  He
looks at me with a sultry smile when he sees me enter the room.  “Baby, you
have no idea how beautiful you look.  Remind me to send that personal shopper
of yours a thank you card.  Come sit with me, I put on a movie.”

I walk over to join him on the couch.  I’ve never lain around in lingerie
watching a movie before.  It’s a heady feeling that has my nerve endings on
high alert.  Evan hands me my drink and I snuggle up next to him.

“I put on the movie 9 ½ Weeks.  Have you ever seen it?” he asks.

“No, I haven’t.  I’ve heard of it, but I don’t really know much about
it.”

“I’m glad you never saw it.  I think you’re going to enjoy it.”  He
whispers in my ear. 

Without much difficulty, I get Evan to sit on the floor, leaning back
against me so I can give him a massage as we watch the movie.  I love to feel
my hands on his broad shoulders, massaging his muscles and enjoying the
closeness.  He shudders beneath my touch when I gently brush his skin with my fingernails. 
Watching him respond to my simple touch is addictive.

As I reach down to gently stroke his lower back, my hair sweeps across
his skin.  He lets out a soft moan as my hair tickles and teases his back.  In
his deep, sexy voice, he utters a simple command, “Don’t ever cut your hair.  Promise
me you’ll keep it long for me.”

After promising him what he wants, I begin to massage his scalp, running
my finger through his thick hair, gently pulling and twisting.  He closes his
eyes and allows me to tend to him.

I have completely forgotten about the movie until Evan gets up to rejoin
me on the couch.  He sits behind me, wrapping his legs around mine.  As my
focus returns to the film, Kim Basinger is doing a seductive dance in a
nightie.  The lighting, music, and choreography create a beautifully sexy
scene.  When Kim completely disrobes and continues her erotic seduction
outdoors on their balcony, I get an idea.

Slowly, I slip out of Evan’s hold, slide down the couch and begin to get
off the sofa.  “Oh, no you don’t,” Evan chastises me.  “I know what you’re up
to, and if you think I’m letting you out on my deck dressed like that, you’re
insane.”  He grabs me by the hips and drags me back to join him.  “Get back
here.  I’m not done with you yet.”

Now it’s my turn, and Evan is a very attentive partner.  He knows how
much I like to feel his stubble across my skin.  He brushes my long hair in
front of my shoulders, exposing my shoulders and back.  Gently and slowly, he
kisses and nibbles his way from shoulder to shoulder, punctuating his caresses
with the tingling sensation of his scruff. 

Evan pauses to take a drink, leaving my nerve endings on fire and
desperate for more attention.  When he returns and places his lips on my spine,
I am shocked by the sensation of freezing cold moisture.  Evan has an ice cube
in his mouth and it is dripping icy-cold droplets that run down my spine.  I
gasp loudly at this completely unexpected rush.  The difference in temperature
heightens the pleasurable sensations dramatically.

I hear the crunch of ice in Evan’s mouth as he chews and swallows the
object of my delightful torture.  “Watch the movie, baby.”

When I look up at the screen, Mickey Rourke is holding a cup of ice cubes
and Kim Basinger is blindfolded.  She willingly submits to the unbuttoning of
her top, exposing her breasts.  With ice cube in hand, he rubs it along her
skin and between her breasts, allowing it to melt and drip down her stomach. 

Evan takes my arm in his hand and ever so slightly runs his fingers up
and down the inside of my forearm.  It sends shivers down my spine.

When it’s my turn again, I trace invisible letters along his back and
make him guess which letters I’m drawing.  Each correct guess is rewarded with
a kiss.  Each wrong guess is also rewarded with a kiss.  It’s a game without
any losers.

After over an hour of playtime, Evan turns off the movie and we retreat
to his room to reenact some of our favorite scenes.  He’s right about one
thing, I really did enjoy this movie!

W
e wake up wrapped in each other’s arms.  Our legs are entwined together
and it seems that even in our sleep, we cannot separate from one another.  I
don’t know how I will ever be able to sleep alone again.

Over breakfast, we discuss our plans for the day.  It’s my scheduled day
off and Evan still wants to take me around to fill out job applications in
local bakeries. 

We’ve been in a media blackout since Monday night.  Adam warned both of
us to stay away from all social media sites for the time being.  The
uncertainty is killing me.  I wish I knew exactly where we stood.

As soon as we finish breakfast, Evan calls Adam to come over.  My stomach
is in knots.  This is a make or break moment for both of us.  We have about an
hour before Adam arrives, so I try to calm my nerves with a long, hot shower
while Evan goes up to the gym to work out.

Since I’m not home, my clothing options are limited to what I’ve brought
with me.  I look through the bag from Saks, and my brand new Diesel jeans
aren’t there.  It’s empty.  I don’t see them anywhere in Evan’s room. 

I toss on one of Evan’s old t-shirts that I find in his dresser and I
begin searching for my jeans.  Evan comes down from his gym needing to shower
and finds me looking through his dresser drawers.

“What are you looking for Little Miss Nosy?” Evan asks.

“I can’t find my new jeans.  Where did you hide them?”

“I didn’t hide them.  I put them away.  See?” 

He takes me by the hand and walks me over to his walk-in closet.  I’m perplexed. 
All his clothes are tightly packed on the left side of his closet.  The right
side is nearly empty.  The shelves and racks are bare, except for my lone pair
of jeans folded neatly on a shelf and my new red dress, hanging alone.

“Juliette, I cleared out one side of my closet for you yesterday.  I want
you to keep some of your things here.”

I’m not going to over think this.  From a strictly logical point of view,
it makes sense.  If I’m going to be spending more nights here, I need to have
clean clothes to change into.

“There’s only one problem,” I tell him.

“Oh?  What’s that?”

“I’m a lefty.  Can we switch sides?”

While Evan showers, I finish getting ready.  My new jeans feel amazing,
especially because I’m wearing Evan’s t-shirt.  I put on some lip-gloss, brush
my teeth, and I’m ready to greet the day and welcome whatever news Adam has to
share.

As I’m waiting in the kitchen, I open up Evan’s laptop to check my
e-mail.  I’m careful to avoid Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.  After only one
sign in attempt, a message pops up on the screen.  My account has been locked
due to too many failed login attempts.  I don’t remember checking my mail in
the last two days.  In order to unlock it, I have to go through a series of
security questions.  Once I’m in, my inbox is full of MAILER-DAEMON rejection notices for mail that I know I never sent. 
When I check my sent folder, it’s empty.  So are my contacts.  Erased.  Gone. 
Someone hacked into my e-mail and intentionally locked it when they were done. 
Unbelievable.  Is it a coincidence or another gift from my unwanted friend?

I need to find out more, but first things first.

Adam arrives just as Evan finishes up.  He looks so much better than the
last time I saw him.  Just twenty-four hours ago, Adam had spent the entire
night investigating for us without any sleep.  Today, he looks well rested and
relaxed.  Seeing him like that gives me an immediate sense of relief.

“Evan, you and Jette were absolutely perfect yesterday.  As I was
releasing information to the press, reports of you two being seen in public
romantically were being fed to all the news outlets simultaneously,” Adam
explains.

He goes on, “When I released a handful of pictures of the two of you,
dozens more were uploaded to Instagram from people who spotted you guys out
yesterday.  Then there’s the live coverage of last night’s game.  It was nearly
perfect.” 

“Nearly perfect?  What does that mean, exactly?” Evan asks.

“Averee.  She’s the last person I wanted to show up at the game,” he
confesses.

“That makes two of us,” I mumble.

“Well, you both handled it well.  Let’s move past that speed bump.  The
rest of it went exactly as planned.”

Adam continues, “When I released a police report that shows how you
stepped in to stop an assault on your girlfriend before things escalated tragically,
the Suit’s ex-girlfriend was releasing a statement about how he got physically
aggressive with her, too.”

Evan asks the question that’s on my mind, too.  “Who found her and got
her to talk?  I doubt she did this on a whim.”

Adam explains, “I sent a female intern from the office to talk with her
and convince her to speak with a responsible reporter.  It was surprisingly
easy to get her to talk.”

“How about print and air time?  Are we getting much attention?” Evan
wants to know.

“Tons, and it’s all very positive.  Everyone loves seeing you two
together,” Adam adds.

“I thought his female fans would absolutely hate me.  This is a big
surprise,” I tell the boys.

Evan just shakes his head, clearly uncomfortable with the thought of
having adoring female fans.

Adam seems to have an opinion about that.  “I think it gives all of them
hope.  Jette, if you could get one of the gods to notice you and fly back down
to Earth for you, then maybe they can, too.”

“God?  Seriously?  Adam, get real.  I broke someone’s nose in a bar
fight.  Doesn’t anyone care about that?” Evan asks.

“Actually, most of the reports are praising you for your restraint.  You
could have easily beaten the crap out of the Suit, but you didn’t.  Someone at
the bar got pictures of you grabbing Jette, clearly distraught and holding onto
her.  You’re a real-life Knight in Shining Armor.”

“How does the front office see things, Adam?” Evan asks.

“The same.  They’re not willing to speak out publicly, but off the
record, they all feel you reacted appropriately and with control,” Adam gladly
shares.

“See, baby, I told you there was nothing to worry about!”  Evan
proclaims. 

I am so relieved.  I can’t resist the urge to grab Adam and give him a
big kiss.  He looks at Evan to check his reaction, but Evan just shrugs his
shoulders and joins us, giving Adam a big bear hug.  These two are more like
brothers than just friends or coworkers.

“Evan, let’s take Adam out to dinner tonight to celebrate.  There’s a
Springsteen cover band playing at the Stone Pony tonight.  Let’s make a night
of it.  Please?”  I would love to go out with some friends tonight.

“Great idea.  Adam .  What do you think?”

“Hell yeah!  I’ve never been to the Stone Pony.”

We spend a few relaxing minutes talking about the game last night.  Then
Evan tells Adam he needs to contact Joey Griffin’s producers to schedule an
appearance.  I suspect a lot of people are going to want five minutes with Evan
right now.  Adam’s phone will be ringing a lot in the next few days.

I hate to spoil the moment, but I have to say something about my e-mail
to the boys now.

“Hey guys, I think my e-mail got hacked.  Do you know if it’s possible to
find out who broke into my Gmail account?  It might be a virus or a trojan, but
I think it was intentional.”  Both men stop talking and give me their full
attention.

Adam wants to know what computer I used to check my mail.  When I tell
him I used Evan’s laptop, the two of them look at each other with a look that
tells me they know something.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” I demand.

“Juliette, Adam returned my laptop to me yesterday while we were out. 
The tech department at the front office reimaged it with the most updated
firewalls and spyware.  There’s no way this laptop was hacked into last night
by a trojan, virus, or a worm.”  That’s what I was afraid of; I didn’t think it
was random.

“Mac, think about it.  This is good.  If Jette’s stalker is the one who
hacked into her Gmail account, then we may be able to track him using his IP
address.” Adam explains.  “There are some guys at work who are pretty good at
this stuff.  Mind if I let them see what they can find?”

This may hopefully end up being the turning point we need to find out who
is behind all the malicious invasions of my privacy.