SHUSHED - CHRIS EVANS ✔️

CHAPTER TWO - ATLANTA

Its been two week since meeting Chris and I've had a long day. Meetings in New York, then a flight to Atlanta for a client dinner. I'm relieved to check in to my hotel for a little TLC and a couple days off. I free my tired feet from my stiff high heels, unpack my bags, change out of my suit into jeans and a green sweater, and then head down to the hotel lounge for a drink. The charming bartender chats with me for a bit as he serves my martini, then moves on to other patrons as I surf social media. I resolve not to look at work emails tonight. I need and deserve a break. A few drinks, some food, maybe a bath later. I need to let go and forget my world for a little while.

Halfway through my drink, a man leans over the stool next to me and in his deep voice asks, "Excuse me, Is this seat taken?"

My heart leaps, adrenaline rushing through my limbs. No fucking way.
I swerve my bar stool to the right, and my jaw drops. There he is again. Chris Evans.

"In all the gin joints, in all the world," he teases with a wink. "May I?" He gestures to the seat.
"Yes, of course. Hi. Hey! How? How are you?!" I stumble over my words, grinning like an idiot.
He smiles, "I'm in town, pre production on a film. What're you doing here?"
"Work meeting. I'm in town from New York."
He nods, swivels forward in his seat, appraising the beer list. The bartender comes over and Chris orders a drink, thanking the guy.

Holy fucking shit. This is unbelievable except he's sitting right here, skipping through the pages of the menu, his brow furrowed as he reads. He is so fine, he's difficult to look at. His stubble has grown in the last few weeks and his hair is longer and darker now. His blue checked collared shirt brings out the sapphire in his eyes. His gold watch winks as he sways the menu pages back and forth, idly scratching his jawline as he reviews his choices. I'll admit, my attraction had developed into a crush since I met him at the airport. Before We Go may have been playing on one my flights. And I may have have fantasized about him once or twice since our meeting. And I admittedly am guilty of googling him. He's beautiful, and after meeting him I'd developed a thing for him, thinking of what could've been had I been more courageous that day at the airport. I never in a million years thought that seeing him again was ever possible.

"Well this is weird," I remark as he puts the menu down.
With his beautiful laugh, he agrees. "Yeah, it's random. When I walked in I was surprised to see you."
"I'm surprised you recognized me." I suggest softly.
As he tips his beer to his lips, I watch the wet surface of his pink bottom lip.
"I guess you made an impression," he responds with a smile.
"You did as well," I giggle just looking at him.
"That's good to hear," he raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Shall we get some food?"

Food turns into a few more drinks, which turn into shots bought by a couple of sweet yet enthusiastic fans. To another drink and laughing a lot. Laughing so much I have tears in my eyes and he leans over, holding his abs like he's out of air. His laugh is so full of joy that it makes me happy to laugh with him. It feels real once my nerves had calmed, I'm being me and I can be me. I feel safe enough to trust him. Yes, he's this movie star. But he's a nice guy too.

We slowly get closer as the night goes on, the alcohol leading to flirting and bravery. I playfully touch him on the forearm when he makes me laugh, he puts his hand on my leg when we talk about the stress of work. When my earring snakes its way into my hair, he softly untangles it, looping the random strand around his finger, teasing the end, then grazing my cheek as he lets go. He looks me straight in the eyes and my breath catches in my throat. Something is happening. Is something happening? It must be. His arm is across the back of my chair, capturing me into his space. My heart is fluttering, especially as he touches my back. I want him.

Our drinks are almost done when the bartender announces last call. Shit. How is it 2am?

Chris hands the bartender his credit card, ignoring my offers to pay half. He just shakes his head with a small smile. As he gets the bill, I realize the opportunity in front of me. Before I have time to overthink it, I listen to my gut and pull my extra hotel key from my purse. He's still looking down, filling out the receipt. I slide my hand across the marble bar surface, the edge of the plastic card meeting the side of his palm. He looks at it and then up to my eyes with an intrigued look of surprise.

"1201," I say softly, and gather my purse to leave. He nods, no further words needed.
I leave the bar, my hands shaking, my head tipsy, my chest flushed. Wow. I'm kind of impressed with myself. I'd never do something that bold. But you don't happen to run into such a kind, funny, beautiful man twice in two weeks.

I could've waited for him. But I need a second to get myself together. I get up to my room, brush my teeth, make sure my makeup isn't smeared, give myself a major pep talk. I don't have a lot of time until there's a knock and the door opens. He steps into the room, sheds his jacket to the chair by the door. Walks towards me, dropping the key card on the desk.

"I want you to know, I'm not usually this bold, I've never given my key to a stranger, I don't..."
He puts his arms around me, and softly whispers, "Shhhh baby. Don't think anymore. Just shush and do what feels right."

And then everything is right. We strip off our clothes, running our lips and hands all over each other, awkwardly finding the rhythm of a stranger through our drunkenness. Chris bites my neck, making me gasp. I step back and look at him, watching him devour me with his eyes. His eyes darken as I slip off my bra, his eyes following my shape. I slide onto the bed's down comforter, beckoning him to follow me. He licks his soft lips as he looks at me, contemplating his next move, watching me lie there before him. I giggle as he pulls my legs towards him, as he climbs onto the end of the bed. He kisses my torso, my breasts, giving each the attention it needs. He lets go of my legs, and moves further down, his mouth suddenly on my wet, his tongue slowly circling. I reach for him, my feet writhing, my back arching, as he licks further and deeper. I'm starting to come, I can feel it.

"Oh god, oh I'm gonna..." I whimper, tossing my head to the side. It's building, I can feel the electricity running through my body.
He moans against my clit, "Come baby, I want you to come."
And then I do, moaning loudly, my body moving against him, his tongue never stopping until I'm still.

I sigh, speechless. Chris climbs up towards me, his boxer briefs stretched around him.
"I want you," I grasp him through the fabric. He gasps then nods, jumping off the bed to get a condom. He's back within a minute and is on top of me, kissing me deep as he plunges into me. He feels amazing. It takes a minute to find each other's rhythm, and match each other's space and touch, but when we do, the pace increases. Soon he's groaning, feeling himself inside of me and I feel myself to start to slip again. He keeps going as I come a second time, my whimpers and moans turning louder. He orgasms right after me, pushing into me harder, his face contorted as he loses himself. He pauses as he finishes, a few last slow thrusts then rolls off of me onto the other side of the bed.

"Holy shit," I say into the dark.
Chris laughs. "Yeah. Not how I expected tonight would turn out."
I turn my head towards him, watching him catching his breath.
He closes his eyes. "I didn't expect it. But I am happy to see you again."
I smile, nod, close my eyes. "Me too."

I'm asleep until I feel his lips against my forehead.
"Thanks babe," he whispers and slips out of the room.
I try not to be disappointed that he left. But it's to be expected I guess. Besides, now I have to pee.

I get up and use the bathroom, return to the mini bar and open a water bottle. Looking down at the desk are my room keys, with a note tucked under one of them.

Thanks for a great night. Maybe we'll see each other again someday. And if you're impatient for fate to make it happen, text the number below. Chris.

I hold the note in both hands, close my eyes, smile. Not how I expected my night would turn out. And happier than I expected to be.