Running Back to You (The Running Series, #1) (41 page)

Marcus and Evan are back quickly and waste no time handing out everyone’s
beer of choice.  As I pass Emmy her beer, I can’t help but notice Adam’s
enraptured attention focused one hundred percent on Emmy.  She’s oblivious and
he’s enthralled. 

Emmy is in a serious relationship with Grant, and I’m feeling very protective
of Adam right now.  Evan and I owe him so much.  I knew Emmy would get a lot of
attention, but it never occurred to me that it would be Adam who’s smitten.

“Hey, Adam, any success on my Craigslist ad or e-mail?” I ask him, hoping
to redirect his attention.

“Jepetto, you trying to sell something on Craigslist?  You have to be
careful not to give out too much personal information, you know, kiddo,” Auggie
warns.

I can’t help but chuckle at the irony of that comment.

“Actually, Auggie, someone set up a fraudulent ad with Juliette’s
personal information.  Adam’s helping us track it down and get it removed,”
Evan clarifies.

I hand Auggie my cell phone and show him the texts that I’ve received just
since dinner.  It’s slowed down quite a bit, there’s only 5 new texts and 8 new
calls.  All the texts are very descriptive, and some of them even have
pictures.  What is it that causes a man to think that sending a woman a picture
of his dick is ever a good idea?

Auggie passes the phone around the table. 

Adam looks pleased.  “Well, we got the ad removed.  You shouldn’t be
getting any more calls.  We’re still working on tracing the IP address,
though.”

“That’s awesome, Adam.  Thank you!  Isn’t that great, Evan?”  I turn to
Evan, but he’s busy texting.  “Baby, did you hear?  Adam got the ad taken
down.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry!  Thanks, buddy.  I’m sorry about that, Juliette, I have
that Sports Illustrated interview tomorrow and I was just coordinating some
lunch plans.  Are you sure you don’t want to join me in the city tomorrow?  We
could make a day of it again.  Maybe see a play this time.”

“Evan, you know I’d love to go, but I can’t.  I have to work.  I can’t take
off another day.  You go ahead and make lunch plans.  Have fun,” I tell him.

As I scan around the room, the bar is getting more tightly packed.  The
dance floor in front of the stage is quickly filling up.  There is still enough
room to dance, so before it’s too late, Evan stands up, offers his hand and
asks, “Ready?”  I take his hand and allow him to lead me towards the dance
floor.

His right hand is placed on my lower back, assuring a constant connection
between us.  They’re playing a beautifully soulful song, “Secret Garden” from
the Jerry McGuire movie.  It’s much warmer on the dance floor than by the bar,
no doubt from the bodies pressed closely together.  We find an open spot, and I
turn around to wrap my arms around Evan’s neck.  Evan places his hands on my
hips, and we sway rhythmically to the song.

“Did I tell you how amazing you look tonight?” Evan asks.

“Why, yes, I believe you did.  But feel free to tell me again,” I tease.

I love the way Evan looks at me, like I’m the only person in the world. 
The dance floor is filled with women, many of which are strikingly beautiful. 
They have all noticed him.  I can see by the look in their eyes that they would
love to be where I am right now, in his arms.  But Evan doesn’t seem to notice
any of them. 

I move my hands from his neck to his hair, playfully pulling and twisting
the strands as he closes his eyes, enjoying my touch as much as I am.  His
hands travel from my waist to my backside, pulling me close, as he leans in for
a kiss.  I moan into his mouth, with the heat between us building and my desire
to tear his clothes off growing exponentially. 

Our tongues engage in a slow dance while his hands move up my back and
under my loose top.  The skin-to-skin contact is almost too much.  I feel naked
in a room full of people. If I close my eyes, I can imagine we’re home in
private.  Our breathing becomes more rapid and I can tell he’s every bit as
turned on as I am.

I’m snapped back to the present by a nudge from Auggie. He hollers into
my ear, “I’m outta here, kitten.  I have an early call in the morning.”

I release Evan and give Auggie a kiss on the cheek, “Thanks for coming
out with us tonight.  Did you have fun?”  I really hope he did.

“It was a blast.  You guys are great.  See you at home?”

“Yeah, I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight.  Love ya!”

Auggie slips through the crowd and makes his way to the exit.  I’m so
glad he had fun.

The song changes, and now “Rosalita” is playing, an exuberant showstopper
that every true Bruce fan knows word for word.  Everyone is singing along, throwing
their hands in the air and dancing.  In the middle of the song, the rest of our
dinner party is with us on the dance floor.  Evan and I are surrounded on all
sides by both friends and strangers.  Hands are waving in the air, and fists
are pumping to the beat, while fans of every age sing along chord by chord. 
There’s not enough room to actually dance, but most of us are finding our own
rhythm as we move along with the tempo. 

Evan is directly behind me, always staying close and maintaining our
unbroken link. I take a few steps back to feel the perfection of his tight body
against mine.  Evan places both hands around my waist, locking his wrists
around my belly, and presses me against him.  Instinctively, I lean back, rest
my head on his chest and lay my hands on top of his.  He brushes my hair to the
side and nibbles on my ear.  No one pays any attention to us, we are just two people
in a mass, enjoying the music.

None of us are willing to give up our spots on the dance floor, despite
the growing crowd.  “Glory Days” is next in the set, and the dance floor
explodes.  Everyone, including Evan and me, is scream-singing the words right
along with the band.  As I sing, I can feel all my troubles floating away with
each note that leaves my body.

One of Bruce’s slower, older songs, “I Wanna Be With You” is next up. 
Evan turns towards me and takes me into his arms, arms that make me feel
protected and cherished.  He takes my right hand into his and laces our fingers
together.  He holds our hands up against his chest, and I can feel his heart
beating.  He places his other hand on my hip and I place mine on his. 
Together, we sway and move to the music.  I don’t know who taught Evan how to
dance, but I must find out and write them a thank you letter.  He moves with
such grace and agility. 

I look up into his dazzling blue eyes.  I still can’t believe this
impossibly gorgeous man is in love with me.  Love isn’t strong enough a word to
describe how I feel about him.  I whisper three words to Evan, “Take me home.”

Barking up the
Wrong Tree

W
e arrive at my house, and I slip into my security routine.  I set the alarm,
check the back door, and scan the house.  All is quiet and dark.  Auggie must
be asleep in bed, there’s not a peep coming from his room.

Evan is in my room, stripping down to his boxers and slipping into my
bed.  He has his back to me, and I can’t help but admire the frame of this
incredible man.  The broad width of his shoulders contrasted with the lean cut
of his waist make me weak in the knees.  His strength and power are only
surpassed by his kindness and compassion. 

His keys, wallet, and watch are lying on my dresser.  I remove my jewelry
and watch and place them beside his.  It’s hard to believe that less than one
week ago, I was contemplating never seeing him again.  Now, he’s in my every
waking thought and at the heart of every decision I make.

I slip out of my clothes, leaving just my matching bra and panties and
join Evan in bed.  Evan’s open arm is waiting for me to snuggle up to him.  He
pulls the covers up, and I let out a giggle.  He looks at me with a puzzled
expression on his face.

“Sorry, baby.  It’s just that with Auggie down the hall, I feel like a
teenager sneaking a boy into my room.  I feel ... naughty,” I confess.

I wait for a response.  No words are spoken, but none need to be.  He
looks at me with a desire that I know all too well.  He pulls me to him and
presses his lips against mine.  I feel him hardening against me as a soft moan
escapes from my lips.  All it takes is the slightest movement of his hips for
me to instinctively open up my thighs.

“Evan, stop.  We shouldn’t,” I plea.

Slowly, Evan rolls on top of me, pinning me beneath him.  He gazes down
at me and I can feel my temperature rise as a shot of electricity pulses
between my legs.

“You’re right.  Good night, my love.  I’ll leave you alone now,” he
teases as he kisses behind my ear, nibbling and sucking down my neck to my
chin.  Reflexively, I arch my neck to give him greater access.  My body betrays
me.  Another thrust of his hips has me drenched with desire.

Abruptly, he rolls off me onto his back, resting his arms behind his
head.  “Sleep tight,” he mutters.  A salacious grin sweeps across his face
because he knows what he does to me.  He knows that when it comes to him, I
have no will power. 

I am entirely too turned on right now to stop.  My hand sweeps across his
pecs, relishing in the feel of his hard body.  I allow my lips to explore his
abs, moving up his chest, gently biting and nipping on his shoulders.  By the
time I reach his mouth, I’m on top of him.  Evan wraps his arms around me, and
our bodies move and grind together in a familiar rhythm.

When I look down, he is staring up at me with a dark, intense look in his
big blue eyes.  His kiss is deep and possessive, demanding that I give myself
to him.  I stop protesting and surrender to my own desires.

He has been seducing me all night on the dance floor.  The entire night
has led to this moment.  To deny it would be futile.  He rips off his boxers, I
tear off my panties and in the blink of an eye, he’s inside me.  God, I love
this man. 

T
he next morning, Evan wakes me up and kisses me good-bye.  He’s got to
be in the city by ten, and he needs to get home and shower.  He promises to
text and call me whenever he can.  There’s no reason for me to get up right
away, so I roll over and fall back asleep, dreaming about beach houses and
twisted ankles.

When I finally get up, Auggie is already home.  I find him sitting in the
kitchen sipping a latte from our favorite coffee shop.

“Good morning, Jepetto.  Or is it good afternoon?” he teases.

“Nope, not quite noon yet.  Technically, it’s still morning.  No more
work today, Auggie?”  I’m pleasantly surprised to see him home at this hour. 
We haven’t spent much time together in the last week.  I really do miss him.

“Did Evan make it to his interview on time?” he asks.

“Yeah, I got a call from him a couple of hours ago.”

“Good, I’m glad.”  Without looking up at me, Auggie goes on.  “He’s a
good guy, Jette.  I’m so sorry about all the drama I caused you two last week. 
It’s really been bothering me.  If I just kept my big fat mouth shut, I’m
pretty sure Evan would have told you everything himself.”