Running Away With You (Running #3) (27 page)

He pulls me a little more tightly against his firm chest and kisses my forehead.  “How long have you been awake?”

“Just a few minutes,” I confess.  “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”  In one fluid motion, he rolls me over and pins me beneath him.  His hands are on mine, holding me firmly in place as his nose tickles mine and his morning glory digs into me.

“It’s
hard
to say.” I giggle, grinding my pelvis against him.

“Oh, really?”  He looks down at me with a big grin.  “You’re in a playful mood today.”

“I like playing games with you,” I admit, staring up into his endless blue eyes.

“Want to play the hokey pokey?” he murmurs against my throat. “You put your whole self in,” rolling his hips against me. “You put your whole self out,” trailing kisses down to my breast. “You put your whole self in,” I moan against him.  “And you shake it all about.”

I drag my nails down his back until I reach his perfectly formed ass, and press him tightly against me as my knees fall open just enough for him to slip effortlessly inside me.

“That’s what it’s all about,” he hisses in my ear.

I
stand at the bathroom sink wearing nothing but a sports bra and a pair of yoga pants, trying desperately to tame my tangled hair into a ponytail, finally satisfied that I’ve done the best I’m going to without a shower.  So much has happened over the last two days, I need to clear my mind.

Evan wanders into the bathroom, naked as a jaybird, and begins brushing his teeth.  He stares at my reflection in the mirror and rinses.  “Are we running this morning, baby?”

We?  I’ve gotten quite used to running alone.  “I thought I’d go for quick run this morning.  It’s your day off. Why don’t you go relax?  I’ll be back in about an hour.”  I was hoping for a longer run, but maybe it’s best if I keep closer to home today.

Rather than wait for a response, I leave Evan in the bathroom, hoping he’ll get the message that I need this alone-time.  I return to the bedroom to grab my zip jacket and running shoes. 

I hear his voice travelling from the bathroom. “Don’t leave without me!”

Damn. 
I might as well make the best of it.  Besides, watching him flex his muscles as he jogs is a sight to behold.  I was looking forward to some quiet me-time, but I’m actually starting to like the idea of having Evan join me.  Not a bad way to start off the new week. 

Evan grabs a pair of track pants and slides them on, returning his attention to me.  His eyes run up and down my body, inspecting me for changes.  I’ve been running so much, I’m starting to lose more weight. Clothes that once clung to me now hang loosely.  “You’ve been running a lot, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know, maybe I have.  I do know one thing, though.”

“Yeah?  What’s that, Running Girl?”

“I can kick your ass,” I tease.  “Come on, let’s see if you can keep up with a little girl.”  I return to the bathroom to brush my teeth before we head out.

Evan is already out on the deck stretching when I find him again.  Watching him bend and flex takes my breath away.  He hasn’t showered, and he still has bed head hair sticking out in every direction.  His jogging pants accentuate his trim hips, and his T-shirt stretches tightly across his biceps.  This man is devastatingly handsome.  I slap him on the ass and hustle down the steps, eager to start our run and get a little bit of a head start.

I lead Evan along my southern route, staying close to the surf, running on the cold, wet sand, which has hardened like cement in the December frost. 

Evan and I haven’t run together since football season started so many months ago.  The last few times we ran together, I struggled to keep up with him.  Evan is in amazing physical shape.  I glance out of the corner of my eye and watch in awe and appreciation how gracefully he controls his body.  He matches his stride to meet mine step for step and his arms swing only slightly, propelling his body into forward motion.  His face is relaxed and his hair bounces and sways with each step.

“You have to stop doing that,” Evan warns.

Am I running wrong?  Is that even possible?  “Doing what?”

“Looking at me like that.  Keep that up, and I’m going to ravish you right here and right now.” 

I smile at the thought, but return my attention to the beach, making sure to keep my feet treading along the cold and hardened sand.  “So how, exactly, would that work?  Would we do it right here near the crashing waves, or would we move closer to the sand dunes, maybe?”

I see a wide grin growing on his face.  “I don’t know, maybe under that lifeguard stand over there.  Want to try a little outdoor sex in a public place?”

“Oh, sorry, baby, but I’ve already done that.”  Evan stops running and stares at me, shocked.  I call back to him over my shoulder as I keep moving forward, “Remember, I grew up here on the beach.  We used to make out under the lifeguard stand all the time.  It was a rite of passage.”

Evan takes a few long strides to catch up to me. “If you think making out with a teenage boy and getting ravished by a man are the same thing, then I’m definitely doing something wrong.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”  I take a quick look around and make sure there’s no one in sight.  I run out ahead just a few steps, moving away from the water and toward the lifeguard stand lying on its side, abandoned for the winter.  I sit down in the sand, leaning back against the wooden railings, looking out at the breaking waves. 

Evan follows and sits beside me, opening his arm for me to curl up in.  The sand is cold and hard, but I find warmth in his embrace.  He places a hand under my chin, raising it just enough that we’re staring into each other’s eyes.  I cup his cheek in my hand, thankful for the stubble that tickles my flesh.  His warm breath washes across my skin as he brushes my lips with his in a kiss that makes my toes curl.

When his tongue swirls with mine, I move my fingers up to his mop of hair, dragging my nails across his scalp, and tug playfully on his hair.  Evan’s hand travels to my ass, gently squeezing and rubbing.

I climb onto his lap without breaking our bond.  I press my breasts against his chest, thrusting my hips and grinding against him.  I take his tongue into my mouth and gently suck, eventually releasing him so I can nibble on his lower lip.

He places his hands on my hips and pulls me back, looking deep into my eyes.  He brushes his nose against mine, kisses me once more, lifts me off him, and places my ass back in the sand.  I’m left wanting more, bereft and deprived of his tender touch.  “Why did you stop?”

“I wanted to remind you what it’s like to make out with a man.  I’ll leave the ravishing part for when we get home.”

Evan stands and offers his hand to help me up.  Without missing a beat, I begin to retrace our steps back toward our beach house in a full-out run.  I call back to Evan, who’s struggling to catch up with me.  “Come on, stud.  Try to keep up.”

A
fter our communal shower, we sit together at the breakfast table, enjoying a simple meal of fresh fruit and toast.  “So, Juliette, what’s the plan for today?”   

“You know exactly what I want to do today.  I’ve told you a thousand times.  I want to drive out to a farm and cut down a Christmas tree.  A
real
tree.”  I pick at my food while I wait for his response.

“And how will we get this tree home?  I’m not getting sap all over my Porsche and I don’t want to get scratches all over your new car, either.”

“Adam already promised we could use his SUV for the day.”

“If it’s just the two of us, that means you’ll have to be my bodyguard if things get out of control,” he grins wickedly at me.  “I’ll be depending on you, Running Girl.”

“Maybe I should bring the can of Pepper Spray that Auggie used to make me bring on all my dates,” I tell him.

“Did he make you bring it on our first date?” he demands to know.

“Absolutely,” I tell him.  “And I would have used it too, if you weren’t so damn adorable.”

Within an hour, we exchange cars with Adam and head west, away from the shore.  We arrive at a tree farm just outside Cherry Hill.  The parking lot is nearly full.  It seems like lots of others had the same idea today. “Juliette, there are a lot of people here.  Are you sure this is what you want?  I really don’t want to make a scene.”

“No one will even know you’re here.”  I hand him his woolen cap, a pair of sunglasses, and without much fuss, he’s completely unrecognizable.  We walk around the tree farm like a normal young couple.  No one is following us, taking pictures, or even asking for autographs. 

As we wander around the farm, an older gentleman approaches.  Perhaps it was wishful thinking to hope we could go out in public without being recognized.  Evan is far too generous, and sometimes the older men will talk his ear off.  They like to reminisce about past games, former quarterbacks, and better times.  Evan sees him coming too, and he braces for impact.

“So, how can I help you two kids?  Do you know what kind of tree you’re looking for today?  We have Douglas fir, balsam, spruce, and Scotch pine.”  This man has no idea who Evan is – to him, we’re just another paying customer.  He shows us around the farm, pointing out all the tree varieties and lecturing us about the pros and cons of each. 

With the help of our new friend, we cut down the perfect ten-foot tall balsam fir and get it tied securely to the roof of Adam’s car.  As Evan pays the helpful gray-haired man, he gets a lecture about the best type of tree stand and some useful tips about keeping the tree alive for as long as possible.

Soon we’re on our way home.  I crank up the heat as I shiver while Evan sings along to the Christmas music playing on the radio.  My man is good at so many things, but apparently singing is not one of them.  I’m enjoying the show too much to tell him how off-key he really is. 

We stop at a small hardware store and buy a dozen boxes of twinkling lights and Evan lets me buy a few boxes of tinsel. 

Once we arrive home with our first Christmas tree, Evan unties it and carries it to the back of the house while I clear the spot in our living room where it will go.  I head straight to the kitchen to start making hot cocoa.  I gaze out the kitchen window and watch Evan as he shakes the loose pine needles from the tree, giving it a good bang on the wooden deck over and over until he’s satisfied.

Evan finally brings the tree inside and places it right in front of the large window in our living room that looks out onto the Atlantic Ocean.  I crank up more holiday music and bring Evan his hot cocoa.  We spend the rest of the day decorating our first tree.

I
pick up Auggie on Thursday morning.  It’s our monthly Alive Day Celebration.  I told him to dress comfortably casual and to tell Lucas we won’t be home until after dinner, but that’s all the intel I’m willing to give him.  The last time we did this, he left me guessing right up until the very end, so it’s only fair that I do the same.

Auggie grills me about the picture from David as we drive toward our unnamed destination.  “Okay, spill.  What happened when you went to Denver on Sunday?  Did you see David the Dicksickle?”

“No, Auggie, I told you.  Adam and I were with the team the whole time.”