My shorts acting like bloomers rode up between my legs, making me painfully aware of how wet I was getting just by being this close to him when he said my nickname.
It was an instant thirst trap and he was Famine for a reason. One look or touch and you were begging for more.
“Just show me, Bowey,” I pleaded as I went back to sucking on his neck in a new soft spot I could pinch with pink.
Letting my wrist go, his head dropped to the opposite side giving me more room to attack him when my hand brushed against him again. I could feel how hard he was below the zipper and it made me gasp at how big he under my hand.
Without much warning, I started unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, letting my hand slip inside without any protest from him.
New territory.
He was hard as steel and it only motivated me more to crack his exterior in any way I could.
“Fuck, Evey, you have to stop. Do you know how hard it is to control myself around you? Fuck.”
The words slithered out of his mouth, attacking any reserve I had when I kissed up to his jaw. “Stop trying to control yourself, Bowey. I’m yours to fuck the angel out of…”
His head fell back against the seat, and his hand came up around me, smoothing up my thigh, his fingers dipping under the hem of my shorts to grab my ass with a firm hand. I was soaking through my shorts, and he was pulsing in my palm—both of us had zero control left.
Through his clenched teeth he groaned, “Maybe I like the angelic parts.”
His chest was swelling and deflating in a way I could tell he liked how my hand outlined his girth over his underwear. Dragging my hand up his length, I felt myself moan when his fingertips accidentally danced along the seam of my shorts over my pussy.
Jerking against my hand, I could tell he was close when his whole body tensed. Stopping my hand from working over him any longer, I saw his eyes turn a darker shade of gray when he chose cruelty over coming in my hand. “Evey, enough, okay?”
The guilt of pushing him into a corner hit me like a ton of bricks when I heard his voice sound tender and scared. Letting my hand go limp from trying to mold around him perfectly, I pulled it out of his pants and laid an innocent kiss on his jaw. “Okay, Bowey, nice and slow.”
Before he adjusted himself and did his pants back up, he pushed the band on his Versace underwear down, revealing a small blue butterfly with black detail on its wings placed right next to his hip bone.
BOWEN
Sitting up in bed, my hand ran over my chest, rubbing into the skin lightly where my heart should be.
Eve was across the hall, and I couldn’t shake the idea of her being damaged goods especially when her voice sounds so proportioned it makes me hate who they forced her to be.
Nothing about her was entirely Eve yet, except her flagrant disregard for behaving. I felt like the only person who was going to protect her the way she needed.
If I could grow some fucking nerve, I could explain how I needed her to protect me, but those just added up to poor attempts. They were normally crushed under my inability to control myself around her the way I had perfected by being not attracted to any gender in her absence.
I let her go way too far last night.
I cracked instead of breaking the way she wanted.
Eve was a force that you can’t control, and when she gets that look in her eyes that makes her eyebrows more placid, her mouth more pouty, and her nipples more visible, it’s better you just accept the fallout.
The fallout today was blue balls and a side of ache from trying to tell her what to do.
She felt holy in ways that would heal me in just one touch, and I wasn’t ready to be forgiven for my sins. I had been living with them for so long that I didn’t want to give them up for any reason. My sins turned into demons on my shoulders that got me through each day.
What happens when they are vanquished?
When I’m committed to a rebirth I don’t want?
Will my demons then come back with a vengeance?
Finally dragging myself from bed, I stood in the hallway leaning against my door, looking at the door she was behind. I wanted to knock, but everything between us made me keep my hands to myself.
Lost cause.
Damaged goods.
Better off dead.
The words were interchangeable to describe us. All these years between us and I could tell neither of us changed except in the ways that made our skin thick enough to survive.
Eve only spoke in tongues right now, blinded by all she missed out on and all of me wanted to fix that blindness.
Jogging down the stairs, I headed for the kitchen to grab a smoothie—my diet was that simple if it didn’t involve top shelf liquor.
I hit an invisible wall when I saw Eve utilizing the stovetop that I hadn’t ever even twisted on. I was convinced it didn’t work before she arrived, and I was okay with that assumption. Food, sex, being a good person—none of it was a priority. My only priorities were punching in, doing my job, being wasted enough to forget my job, clocking out, and repeat.
“Who cooks breakfast I didn’t ask for, Pretty Princess or the
