He snorted. “You? You’re too straitlaced, even if you are wearing a garter belt and silk stockings. Who were they for?” Evan’s face closed down into a scowl, but his fingers were still gentle.
“No one,” she said, pushing her skirt down and his fingers away.
He reluctantly swayed back and pulled her to her feet with him. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Lucy shrugged. “You’ve got a suspicious nature, I guess.”
“Where were you tonight?”
He acted like he had the right to know that information. She could have busted his balls about it, but she owed him for rescuing her and then taking care of her.
“I met some friends in the city. We went to some clubs.” Lucy shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious.
“I bet you were a big hit on the dance floor.” He stepped in closer and pulled her against him. “Want to dance with me?”
Boy, did she.
“You still in the market for an FWB?” she asked.
He nodded.
“That’s not me.” While Lucy thought friends with benefits sounded fun, she knew she’d regret it. She just couldn’t do casual. She wasn’t wired that way.
“It feels like it could be you.” Evan rubbed her back.
She laid her head on his chest. “I’m not what you’re looking for.” Lucy echoed the words he’d said to her two years ago.
“Maybe you are.”
Lucy refused to consider just what that could mean. Right now she just needed his mouth on hers because it had been so long and her imagination was probably blowing the memory of his kiss out of proportion. His beard had filled out since his retirement party, and she wondered if it would be soft or raspy.
Standing on her tiptoes, she stretched up to meet his lips.
Oh hell. Her imagination had forgotten a lot.
Lucy had expected the tingles down to her toes, but she was blown away by the sweetness of his mouth moving over hers. As she clung to him, he went to her head faster than eighteen-year-old Glenfiddich.
“Evil!” Fists pounded against his door. “Do a body shot off me,” an obviously drunk woman catcalled through the closed door.
Wrenching herself out of his arms, Lucy had a terrible sense of déjà vu. Right. This was why it was a bad idea.
Evan stalked to the door and flung it open. “Get the fuck out of here,” he growled at two giggling women.
“Whoopsie.” One woman finger waved at Lucy, while the other one pulled her friend back downstairs.
Lucy looked everywhere but at Evan. “Seems to me you have the FWBs lining up.”
“They’re not friends,” he said.
“I’ll just wait outside.” Lucy had to get out of here before he charmed her out of her panties. “You don’t have to come out with me.”
“I’d hate to have to rescue you two times in one night. You’ve got a FUCK ME sign around your neck in that dress.”
She gave him the finger. “Fuck you.”
He followed her down the stairs. “Nothing I’d rather be doing.”
“Not even body shots off a toned stomach?” Lucy could have cursed the bitchiness that she couldn’t stop coming out of her mouth. She had no right to judge. No right to feel the slightest bit jealous.