Running Away With You (Running #3) (6 page)

"Yes, baby, that's it. Feel my tongue there – all over you, in you.  I want to hear you.  Don't hold back, baby.  Don't be afraid.  Does it feel good?"

"Yes ... yes ... yesss!" I hiss through clenched teeth. "Ohhhh, yes!” I call to him until neither of us can take a moment more and my first spasm of orgasm starts.

I can hear Evan through the phone. "Oh, shit,” followed by a loud grunt and a deep sigh as we ride the storm together.

The intensity of the experience brings tears to my eyes, and now shudders of relief wash over me.  We are both silent for several moments, just our breathing passing through the phone.

“I love you!” Evan pants.

“I love you too,” I reply breathily, my body still tingling from my orgasm.

“I’m so glad you called,” he tells me.

“Mmm, me too.”

“Go to sleep, and I promise to visit you in your dreams.”

I hang up and lie in our bed, pull up the covers, and within minutes I am contently asleep dreaming of footballs, flowers, and fellatio.   

In the Dark

T
he Sentinels’ game starts at one today.  It’s become a ritual for some of the fans to come watch Evan’s game here at Rush.  Marcus wasted little time in making some needed changes, which include replacing our projection system with a monster eighty-four-inch ultra-high-definition television.  It’s the size of a small compact car.  It was a big expense that took a big bite out of our reserves, but one that will hopefully pay off.

I have to admit, when we watch the games here, it seems like we’re right there on the field with the team.  My favorite part is when Evan removes his helmet and joins his team on the sidelines.  I love to watch the game through his expressive blue eyes and see how they light up when a great play is made.  I even love watching him run his hands through his hair when his team struggles.

Today, we watch in glory as the Sentinels mop the floor with the Baltimore defense.  Evan and Carlo run circles around them.  They are an unstoppable combination. 

It’s near the end of the third quarter and the Sentinels have a twenty-nine point lead.  As Evan takes the field, everyone at Rush stops what they’re doing to watch the magic.  I watch with bated breath as Evan straps on his helmet with a look of determination I’ve had the pleasure of seeing many times in the privacy of our bedroom.  I know that look well, and I sense something amazing is about to happen.

Evan orchestrates an eight-play, seventy-three yard drive, culminating in Carlo Rivera’s thirteen-yard scoring run, ending the quarter with a score of forty-two to six.  The room erupts into cheers, and the loudest voice among them all is mine.

The coaches rotate some of the second string players in and out of the game after that.  While Evan is off the field, I can concentrate more on my duties of running a restaurant and bar. 

Another thirty minutes and the game is over without any change on the scoreboard.  Evan has performed brilliantly, proving to himself, his coaches, and the fans that they made the right decision when they gave him the starting position. 

From behind the bar, I hear Evan’s familiar voice echoing through the restaurant.  The post-game interviews are being aired on television and I don’t have to look up to know it’s him.  My body instinctively responds to his voice, stirring something deep inside me.  He is slightly out of breath and exhilarated at the same time.  My imagination is on overdrive, conjuring all types of ways I can get him hot, sweaty, and excited later tonight.

A reporter is asking Evan about today’s performance as he makes his way off the field.  His response makes me beam with pride.

“It’s every kid’s dream to play football for a living.  Being a quarterback is my job and I’m going to do it the best way I know how, because I owe that to my teammates, my coaches, and especially the fans.”  I can actually hear him smile without seeing his face.  It’s unmistakable.  There’s a joy to the tone of his voice that shines through like a laser beam aimed directly at my heart.  I cannot help but smile in return.

As soon as the interview is over, Marcus mutes the television and pipes in some celebratory music, starting with Pharrell’s song “Happy”.  It’s infectiously cheerful, and without even realizing it, I’m dancing behind the bar as I restock the reach-in cooler. 

I look up and Derek is eyeing me suspiciously, with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.  He begins to move slowly toward me, matching my moves.  With the bend of a finger, I encourage him to come closer, and he quickly accepts my invitation.  He grabs one hand and twirls me, placing a gentle hand on my hip to brace me. 

As soon as we start to dance it becomes contagious, and before long the waitresses and guests are all joining in too.  Marcus, now a happily married man, sweeps Emmy up in his arms and guides her along in a lively two-step as she giggles with delight.

Reese comes out to see what all the fuss is about and just shakes her head when she sees me dancing with Derek.  He has his back to her, so he doesn’t see her staring at him as he dances.  I know exactly what she sees in Derek.  He’s irreverent, sarcastic, and infuriating.  But he’s also kind, selfless, and charming, and he dances with grace and confidence.  One day, I’ll have to ask Reese what he’s like in bed.  By the look in her eye, I’d say she’s reliving a particularly memorable experience right now.

After the song ends, we’re slammed at the bar.  Everyone seems to have worked up a thirst and needs a cold beverage to cool down with.  I see each sweaty face as another dollar in my pocket and I silently remember to be grateful for this amazing gift that has been given to me.  It’s not often someone my age has the opportunity to enjoy the rewards of owning their own business, and I’m extremely thankful.  I’ll have to show Evan how much his gift means to me when I see him later tonight.

Once Emmy and Derek seem to have the bar under control, I slip away to use the bathroom to freshen up.  While washing my hands, I look down at the trash container and notice a pregnancy test kit lying on top of the trash.  There’s a used test strip lying there with two thick pink lines that indicate a positive test result – someone in this building is pregnant!

My mind reels with the possibilities.  Reese has been a little “off” lately, but I’ve mostly attributed that to her break-up with Shaun and her possessive yet uncommitted claim on Derek.  It could easily be her.

It could also be Emmy.  She and Adam have a healthy sexual relationship and she’s had a pregnancy scare before.  But there’s nothing about Emmy’s mood that suggests anything unusual.

However, there’s also a team of waitresses, our pastry chef Natalie, and swarms of women who come and go all day long.  It would be a long shot for me to assume it’s one of my girls.  It could just as easily belong to a complete stranger.  I make a mental note to watch my friends closely for any changes in their eating or drinking habits.  There are certain telltale signs of pregnancy, and sooner or later, if it’s one of my friends, I’ll find out.

The flight from Baltimore will take less than an hour, which means Evan and I can have a late dinner together tonight.  Now the game is over, the restaurant starts to empty out, making room for the dinner crowd.  It’s a completely different vibe.  The sports crowd is rowdy and raucous.  The dinner patrons are more reserved and proper.

Time flies, and before long I get a text from Evan alerting me that he’s safely landed and should be here in about an hour.  While I wait for his arrival, I lock myself in my office and take care of some paperwork that desperately needs my attention.  I upload a picture of Evan from today’s game to Rush’s Facebook page, and I return some phone calls to our vendors.

As I’m reading through some agreement forms for our new linen and laundry service, I’m interrupted by a loud buzz emanating from the dining room.  I carefully file away the contract and follow the disruption to its source. 

My sixth sense kicks in – the one that lets me know when Evan is near.  I can feel my body humming as I move closer to the front of the house.  Sure enough, I find him standing in the center of the dining room, surrounded by fans of all shapes and sizes.  A few are congratulating him on today’s victory, which almost guarantees the Sentinels a spot in the playoffs.  Others are asking for autographs.  Flashes from cell phones are going off in all directions.

I hang back and watch, enjoying the show.  Evan, as always, is charming and affable, patiently signing his name and thanking the fans for their support.  His bright blue gaze scan the crowd, searching for me, and when his eyes connect with mine, they light up.  He tilts his head in my direction and smiles broadly, engraving those heart-stopping dimples that make him even more deliciously edible.

I nod back in acknowledgement and wait, happy to enjoy a moment when I can study him without fear of embarrassment.  He has on a pair of dark wash jeans that fit him perfectly, along with a pair of brown suede loafers.  He’s wearing a white button-down shirt that I know he had custom made to fit his hulking biceps.  His messy chestnut hair perfectly frames his chiseled face.  This man is devastatingly handsome and he’s all mine.

Once he’s satisfied he’s fulfilled his duty, he bounds toward me, wraps his arms around me, and lifts me off my feet.  “I’ve been waiting to do this since last night’s call,” he growls into my mouth as he claims me.  I love his mouth.  I love how he tastes.  As his tongue gently dances with mine, a rush of warmth floods my lower stomach.  Slowly, he places me back on my feet and looks deep into my eyes, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I confess.

We find a booth in the back of the restaurant that Marcus has left vacant for us.  Evan slowly slides in first.  I can tell by the way he moves carefully that he’s sore from today’s game.  I scoot in and find my spot, nestled tightly beside him, underneath his long, protective arm.  He reaches over with his gargantuan hand and takes my tiny hand in his.  Bringing my engagement ring up to his lips, he tells me in his softest, sweetest voice, “You were with me on the field today, Juliette.  I couldn’t erase the images you placed in my mind last night.”

I look around anxiously to see if anyone is listening.  “You’ve completely broken me, Mr. McGuire.  I can no longer function without you.  It’s entirely your own fault.”

“I will gladly take credit for that, my love.”  He places a soft kiss on the top of my head just as our waitress, Lindsay, comes to take our dinner order.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you might be hungry after the game today, Evan.  Do you know what you want or do you need more time?” Lindsay asks.

Evan releases my hand and grabs a menu.  He quickly rattles off three different entrees, and none of them are meant for me.  During football season, I am amazed by the amount of calories this man can pack away.  I request an avocado and tomato panini, and Lindsay rushes off to get our order started. 

Before long, Emmy hurries to our table to congratulate Evan on his win today.  She fawns all over him, gushing with pride and joy.  When she asks Evan if he would like anything special from the bar, I jump in before he can even answer.

“Evan and I would love to do a shot of Black and Gold.  Bring back three – you can do a shot with us,” I tell her. 

Evan’s about to interrupt, but I kick him under the table, stifling his destruction of my evil plot.  Once Emmy is clearly out of hearing range, Evan asks, “Okay, now what the hell was that all about?  I haven’t eaten anything all day.  Drinking on an empty stomach is a bad idea, Juliette.  I’m driving you home, for Christ’s sake.”

“Just go along with it.  I’ll explain it to you later, I promise.”  I bring my lips up to his ear and breathe, “Please.”  Once I nibble on his ear and give it a playful flick of my tongue, I know I’ve got him.  He closes his eyes as I make my way down his neck, nibbling and tasting.

When I stop, he looks at me and nods. “A little more of that, and you could get me to agree to just about anything, Running Girl.”

I look up and find Derek heading toward our table with a serving tray holding three shots.  He places them in front of us and holds out his hand to Evan.  “Nice game, Mac.  That was a perfect game, man.  You made it look easy out there.”

“Yeah, but we both know there’s nothing easy about professional football.”  Evan looks down and sees three shots sitting there.  He hands one to Derek and offers, “Do a shot with us,” as he hands me the other glass.

I shoot Evan one of my “if looks could kill” expressions, and he knows immediately he’s done something wrong.  But from the look on his face, I know he has no idea what unspoken rule he’s violated.

I hold up my glass and offer a quick toast. “To another Sentinels victory and another step closer to the playoffs.”  We clink glasses and place the empties back on Derek’s platter. 

The moment he leaves, Evan insists on an explanation.  I describe the test I found and how I’m trying to figure out if one of our friends is pregnant.

“So you thought that rather than come right out and ask her, you’d be sneaky and gather meaningless clues to solve a puzzle?”  He shoots me a very judgmental look.  “So, Sherlock, are you any closer to solving the case?”