Dare to Tempt - Carly Phillips Page 0,30

moaned and shifted to meet every hit of their bodies together.

Waves of need rose up, emotion running through her, the feeling traveling from her sex through her throat. And when her climax hit, it was sudden and powerful and she needed more.

“Harder, Damon. Please.” She drew in a breath at the same time he slammed deep, and she lost track of time and place, every one of her senses gone as Damon owned her, body and soul. But she was keeping her heart. The only person she could trust it with was herself.

* * *

Damon collapsed on top of Evie, realizing immediately he was crushing her. He rolled off, coaxing her into him and inhaling her musky scent as he pulled in deep breaths, coming down from the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced.

And the sound of her in the throes of pleasure? Harder, Damon. Please. He let out a groan. Fuck, but he wanted to hear his name on her lips again and again.

“You okay?” He pressed a kiss to her neck and stayed there, content with a woman for maybe the first time.

“You killed me.” The sound she let out was half laugh, half groan.

“It’s a talent.” He rolled over and she turned, looking into his eyes, realizing immediately he’d said the wrong thing. A bad joke. Evie wasn’t just another fuck. She’d never be just another … anything. Not to him. “It’s a talent with you.”

Something shuttered behind her eyes. A wall of protection he’d seen when he asked about the jacket. Which reminded him of the scar he’d seen when she’d finally stripped for him.

“Come on. We both know you’re a playboy when you want to be. And that’s fine. We agreed on what this is.”

He frowned but she went on.

“I saw how Candy, Mandy, whatever her name was looked at you. And I’m sure she’s not the only one.”

He narrowed his gaze, fully aware she had a point. “But there’s only one you.” She probably thought it was a line. He was deadly serious, but he knew she wasn’t ready to hear or believe him.

Before he could watch or listen to her dismiss his honest comment, he rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom, threw the condom in the trash, cleaned up, and rejoined her, immediately pulling her back into him.

“Hungry?” he asked. They’d only had drinks at the bar and he was starving.

“Sure.” She pulled away, seemingly eager to put space between them.

If she’d felt half as much as he had when they were together, she was definitely ducking on him now. He might be a quarterback, throwing a pass his specialty, but Jesse Prescott had drilled every possible play into him and Damon could catch a running target. It might take time, but Evie didn’t stand a chance of eluding him in the long run.

“How’s pizza sound?” he asked, keeping things light. For now.

“Perfect.”

He picked up his cell and, using an app, ordered their food.

While he was taking care of dinner, she pulled on his tee shirt, grinned, and leaned against the pillows.

“I like you in my clothes.” He caught sight of the red scar peeking out from the sleeve of the shirt. Coming to a decision, he ran his hand over the still-angry-colored jagged line. “You can talk to me, you know.”

She swallowed hard and remained silent.

“Or not.”

She leaned her head back and groaned. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

He pulled her into him and held her close. “And we can discuss why that is later.” Because the emotional issues probably explained much more than how she got the injury. “Let’s just start with what happened.”

“Okay, fine.” She placed a hand on his chest and began playing with the sprinkling of hair there. “It all goes back to John.”

“So far all I know is that you had issues and you had to involve the police.” He refused to admit he’d looked into the situation in online articles. He was just grateful she was confiding in him now.

She nodded. “Well, we had what I thought was a solid relationship. In fact, we were engaged.”

He blinked in surprise. He’d had no idea she had had a fiancé and didn’t want to dig into feelings of jealousy now. That went way deeper than he was ready to deal with, and right now he just wanted to understand what made her tick.

“How’d you meet?” he asked when she remained silent.

“I worked for the Miami District Attorney’s Office as an investigator. He was a