𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 is far from perfect. Before starting her senior year of college, she's already guaranteed her position as the black sheep of her once prestigious family. To make matters worse, she took up bedding the rival family's eldest...
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𝑨 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒅 in Michael's eyes, and Evelyn watched it carefully. Fondly. The angry spark diminished at her giggling and gave way to a calm, soothing abyss that called her closer. She felt his hand fall from around her neck to cup the other side of her waist, a move she was thankful for since he couldn't feel how her pulse quickened at the simple gesture.
For a long time, she simply gazed at him, caught in an exciting yet paralyzing rush of desire that nearly got the better of her when he mumbled, "I like havin' you on my lap."
"That's 'cause you're a pervert," she shot back. Unlike they would have before, the words held no conviction. Truly, they were merely a damp blanket to throw over the tormenting swell of fire pooling inside her. But Michael had to be the furthest thing from the handsy, self-indulgent men she knew. He was patient, sometimes demure, always using his silken, soft-spoken words and gentle hands to spin and trap her inside the intricate web of trust he'd worked to build. And Evelyn hated that it had all worked so well.
"No!" he chuckled in response to her comment. Looking sheepish, his touch felt anything but as his hands began a slow ascent from her waist and underneath her vest's thick fabric to feel her ribs and rest just beside her breasts. Underneath the light pressure of his thumbs, her skin felt on fire. "It's 'cause you're like a little doll or somethin'. Like I can just carry you around and say you're all mine."
"Well, am I?" Her pounding pulse faltered. "Yours?"
Michael didn't respond right away, smiling warmly. He drew his arms around her to fully wrap her in them and gave her frame a considerable squeeze. For that moment, she did feel like a little doll safeguarded by the surprising strength of her possessor. "That's for you to decide," he said in a whisper on his way to kissing the curve of her ear, then the round of her cheek. The feel of his warm breath sent a shudder through her, and his voice went tight with laughter as he sat back against his seat again. "But I'd like to still take you on a date before you do, if that's okay."
Evelyn hardly gave her answer any thought and nodded. "Will you tell me where we're going though?"
"We'll be there soon," he said as he pulled at one of her curls then brushed it behind her ear. "But I can't get us there with you still on my lap, as much as I like havin' you here. I won't be able to drive like this."
"You can't drive anyway," she remarked. Once she swung herself over the center console, she felt Michael give her thigh a push that nearly sent her toppling sideways into the passenger seat and against the door. "Michael!" she shrieked.
"And you can't keep your balance," he finally quipped back, laughter breaking up every syllable. While she scrambled to land barely right-side up, Michael's laughter grew into cackles.
All Evelyn could do was laugh with him. As sweet as he was, she was beginning to learn that he'd kept a razor-sharp tongue hidden behind that endearing smile. Perhaps from being deprived of it for so long as of late, she laughed until her sides ached with a smarting pain and fell weakly against the passenger seat.
