Sex Addict (31 page)

Her breaths were coming harder, his erection pressed against her ass, and when his teeth grazed her lobe, she just about fell to her knees. His fingers trailed over the clasp at the nape of her neck and then ran down the line of her back to her waist.
 

Abort. Abort,
she told herself as his strong arm banded around her.
Get out now while you still can.
But her legs weren’t moving, her voice wasn’t working, and when the heel of his hand applied a delicious pressure to the top of her mound, she gave in and leaned back into him.

The way his fingers were slowly dipping down between her thighs, combined with the erotic groans coming from next door, had her pussy throbbing and her hand grabbing the back of his head.
 

She pushed her hips back against him, rocking on his fingers as his other hand cupped her breast. With a moan, her head fell back on his shoulder, letting his hands take over her body.
 

This shouldn’t feel so fucking good. If it’s wrong, then why…

Evan nuzzled into her neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin. “Reagan,” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

The hands cupping her breast and between her thighs squeezed gently before letting go. “I’ve gotta run.”

Reagan’s eyes shot open. “What?” When he didn’t respond, she turned to see if he was serious.
 

He was.
 

“You motherfucker,” she said, shoving him in the chest.
 

He laughed and grabbed her wrists. “Come with me.”

“I believe that’s where we were headed until you started talking.”

As she struggled from his hold, he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m serious. Come with me.”

It was too easy to get lost in his eyes, too easy to fall into his well-muscled arms. There was a serious set to his mouth, and she couldn’t stop her curiosity.
 

“And just where are you going?” she asked.
 

“For a drive.”

“You just stopped my orgasm to go for a drive.”

“It’s a long drive.”

“To where? Queens?”

“North Carolina.”
 

Reagan laughed, thinking he was out of his mind, but when his face remained solemn, she stopped. “You’re serious.”
 

“Yep.”

“What the hell is in North Carolina?”

“Prison.”

“Ah, of course. Will you be visiting or checking in?” she joked.
 

“My mom was transferred down there. Thought I’d be a good son and make sure she’s not stealing from the other inmates.”

Though he said it in a lighthearted way, she could see the pain in his eyes. How did he end up with two of the most conniving, selfish people on the planet as parents? When she thought about the many Sundays spent around the dining room table with her own family, she felt a twinge of guilt. She only had to travel upstate to see her parents—he had to visit federal penitentiaries to see his.
 

Evan’s arms tightened around her. “Come with me.”

She leaned back, studying his expression. “I…don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”
 

Because I don’t think I could not fall for you.
“We’ll kill each other.”

“Possibly.”

“I don’t even like you right now.”

Evan winked. “Well, we both know you’re a liar.”

“Jesus, if I can manage to stop talking about your
Pretty Woman
reenactment on a street corner, you can kindly shut that hole in your face about my indiscretions.”

“See? This is progress.”

Reagan shook her head. “I’m absolutely, positively not going with you.” When Evan raised an eyebrow at her, she said, “I mean it. I’m not.”

Forty minutes later, she stood on the curb outside her apartment, watching as Evan threw her overnight bag into the trunk of his car.

Well, shit.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

EVAN HAD BEEN shocked as hell when he’d asked Reagan to spend the weekend with him. The thought had never even crossed his mind, but as the words had tumbled from his lips, they felt right. He glanced at her now, legs crossed and casual in the passenger seat of his Range Rover. She looked perfect there, as if the car had been designed with her in mind. A yawn escaped her mouth then, and she stretched her arms over her head, letting them dangle behind the seat.
 

He looked away before he stared too long at the tight fit of her jeans, or the way her thin sweater had ridden up to show a hint of her ivory stomach. He also wasn’t thinking about the way her yawn wasn’t from being kept up all night underneath him. No, they’d been on their best behavior for once.
Such a shame.
 

After he’d stopped by Reagan’s apartment long enough for her to grab a quick overnight bag, they’d started the long drive to North Carolina, stopping outside of D.C. for dinner before spending the night in a double-bed suite at the Charlton Hotel. It should’ve been torture, being so close and not able to touch. But she’d fallen asleep easily, and he’d watched her for hours, replaying their casual conversations from the car ride, and the arguments over which station they listened to (he’d let her win).
 

It was so easy with her. And even though the urge to be inside her never wavered, he found that this was enough. Just being next to her satisfied the craving and set his body at ease.
 

So it’d actually turned out to be a good thing he’d asked Reagan to come along with him on this trip. He hadn’t seen his mom in a while, and uneasy anticipation had settled into his gut.
 

“Looks like it’s the next exit,” Reagan said, checking the directions on her phone. Leaning back into the headrest, she turned her head to look at him. “You okay?”

How the hell does she always see right through me?
“A little antsy. Walking into a prison will do that.”

“Seeing your mom there will do that too. Do you want me to come with you?”

“You would do that?”
 

She looked away from him to stare out the window, almost as if not facing him made it easier to admit, “I would for you.”

Her words and the tone of her voice moved an emotion inside him that he hadn’t been sure he was still capable of.
Hope.
And as he let his eyes trail over her long brunette waves, he hoped he could be a man worthy of her.
 

He gripped the steering wheel and pressed his foot to the accelerator as the light turned green. “I’m not going to put you through that. Hell, I don’t even want to put myself through that.”

He caught her glancing his way from the corner of his eye, and she reached out to put her hand over his on the wheel.

“Okay. As long as you know the offer is there if you want to take me up on it.”

Evan turned his hand over and, for the first time in all his adult years, entwined his fingers with another. He looked at her long, slender hand in his and wondered how, in that moment, she was the strong one. She was the anchor holding him steady as he headed into uncharted waters.
 

“Thank you,” he whispered across the console, and never in his life had he ever meant two words more.

* * *

THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Reagan shut the door behind Evan as he left to go and visit his mother. She walked over to the mini fridge and opened it up, wondering if there was anything inside she’d be willing to drop six dollars on just to take her mind off what Evan was about to do.

It was too early for alcohol, and honestly, she wasn’t sure a bottle that size would do any good anyway.
Hmm,
the Snickers looked good, and so did the M&M’s, for that matter.
Oh hell, why not both?
 

She grabbed them out of the fridge, refusing to look at the “actual” price, and moved over to the bed. Kicking her shoes off, she climbed to the center and flicked on the TV. Nothing like a midday Saturday movie to take her mind off things.
 

As a massive eighties perm and pastel pink jacket with shoulder pads filled the screen, she rethought her original idea and wondered if perhaps a nap wouldn’t be the better option. Scooting down until her head was against the pillow, she unwrapped the chocolate bar and took a bite out of it.

Oh Jesus, that’s good.
Almost good enough that she’d forgotten the orgasm Evan was still withholding from her.
Well, almost.

Her eyes started to get heavy as she relaxed into the duvet, and as she stared at the ceiling fan above her, she thought about the woman Evan was on his way to see. She tried to convince him to rest first, but he’d said he was too wired to sleep. That was understandable. She was nervous for him, and it wasn’t even her mother. But as she popped the last piece of chocolate into her mouth, she closed her eyes and thought back to the first time she’d ever seen Mrs. Rockwell. It was a moment that had changed her life.

“Jenny!”

Jennifer stopped the jump rope from swinging overhead as her mother shouted her name again. She ran to the back door and flung open the screen. Stepping inside, she saw her mother halfway down the stairs clutching several curlers in her hand.

“Oh good, there you are. Can you go and let Rocky’s mother in? I just saw her pull up out the front, and I’m a mess.”

Jennifer grinned at her mom and nodded. “You aren’t a mess. You look pretty.”

“Jen, half my hair is done, and I’m in my nightgown. But thank you for saying that. You’re a sweet, sweet girl.”

As her mom turned and dashed back up the stairs, Jennifer skipped up the hall to the front door. Her brother and Rocky had gotten up early to ride down to the creek and catch fish. She’d begged them to let her go with them, but after the threat of frog throwing and mud fights, she’d wisely,
in her opinion,
opted to stay home.
 

When she got to the front door, she peered through the narrow panel of glass in the wood and saw a shiny red convertible parked in their driveway. It reminded her of the car she used to drive her Barbie around in. The one she’d told her mom she wanted when she grew up.
 

She pressed her face up to the glass, and the first thing she saw was a black, wide-brimmed hat and matching sunglasses so round they pretty much covered half the woman’s face. The car door pushed open then, and a long leg and a really,
really
high black heel appeared, only to vanish as it sank into the gravel of their drive. Then the woman got out of the car.

Jennifer’s eyes widened as the tall, willowy woman straightened and shut the door behind her. Her blond hair was pulled into a fancy ’do at the nape of her neck, so the hat could sit perfectly on top of her head. She had a white handbag looped over her right forearm and was wearing a black and white geometric pencil dress. On her hands she wore elegant white gloves, and there was a gold bracelet around one of her wrists that was catching the sun.

The lady was unlike anyone Jennifer had ever seen before. And in that moment, she wanted to grow up to be just like her.

Jennifer took a step back and pulled the front door open, wanting to get a better look at the woman walking toward their front door. She’d known Rocky’s family was different to theirs, but he’d always said how much he liked coming over. She had no idea why, if this was his mom, because as far as she could tell, she was beautiful like a movie star.

“Well, hello, young lady,” Mrs. Rockwell said, as she finally came to a standstill in front of her.

Jennifer tried to open her mouth and say hello back, always taught to respect your elders and mind your manners, but as she looked up at the woman all she could do was stare. The lady reached up and removed her sunglasses, and when her warm brown eyes seemed to smile down at her, Jennifer found herself beaming back.

“What’s your name?”

Jennifer giggled. “Jenny.”

“Jenny, is it?” she asked, and then gave her a quick look up and down. “Well, I think I’ll call you Jennifer. You look like a young lady to me. And all smart young ladies should have strong names.”

Absolutely enchanted by Rocky’s mom, Jennifer didn’t think before she blurted out, “What’s your name?”

“Audrey. Audrey Rockwell.” She straightened and gave a wink as she started to pull off her gloves. “Remember that name. It’s going to be famous one day.”

Jennifer looked up at Mrs. Rockwell, the sun beaming down on her, and thought she looked as though she were under a spotlight. As far as she was concerned, this woman was already a superstar.

* * *

THE WOMAN STANDING in front of Evan in the meeting area of the Oxford Federal Correctional Facility looked a helluva lot like the woman who raised him, but there was no light behind this woman’s dark eyes, no warmth to her complexion. Pale and tired, her golden hair faded to an ash blond, Audrey Rockwell stood before him in a slightly rumpled orange jumpsuit, her arms hesitantly outstretched as though she wasn’t sure what kind of greeting she should offer.
 

“Hi, Mom,” Evan said, and stepped forward to wrap his arms around her. As she returned his hug, the tension eased out of her body, and she gave him a light squeeze.

“You look good,” he told her when he pulled back.
 

“And you sound like your father. A master bullshitter.”
 

He winced at that as he waited for his mom to sit before pulling out the plastic folding chair on his side of the table. The last thing he wanted was comparisons to the man he’d cut ties with.
 

“Well, I’m not lying when I say you’ve got the better setup from what I can see,” Evan said, looking around at the freshly painted cerulean walls and fake potted plants in the corners. “Though it looks more like a retirement home than a prison.”

“It’ll be that too,” his mom said as she threaded her long fingers on the table. She cocked her head to the side, wisps of her fine hair falling from her shoulder to brush against her neck. “What are you doing all this way, Evan?”