Chapter Text
*****
It's addictive the minute you let yourself think
The things that I say just might matter to someone
All of this time I've been keeping my mind on the running away
And for the first time I think I'd consider the stay
Because you matter to me
Simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody
You matter to me
I promise you do, you, you matter too
I promise you do, you see?
You matter to me
“You Matter To Me” by Sara Bareilles & Jason Mraz
*****
“And that’s why,” Violet says, slowly sinking her fingers into his hair, fisting it in her grasp, commiting the adoring, awestruck look on Evan’s face as he gazes up at her to memory, “onions make you cry.” His answering smile comes quick and bright, so dazzling that it sends a zing of lust right to her core. Admittedly, she’s been flexing and showing off since he’d told her he finds her chemistry know-how extremely attractive outside of Med last shift. It’s not that she’s exploiting this little tidbit of information, necessarily, but trading slow, deep kisses with Evan, writhing in his lap while talking about chemical processes is a kink she never knew existed for her until now. Exploring this with him is going to make for a long, fun night.
No one has ever told her that her mind was sexy before.
No one except Evan Hawkins.
Evan Hawkins, who looks the way he does, kisses the way he does. Fucks the way he does. This wonderful, kind, respectful man she’s falling for at a breakneck pace, who tells her she’s crazy beautiful one moment in the back of the rig, making her heart flutter, then admits he’s attracted to her brain the next with the same result. Things about her that other guys have always found annoying or intimidating, he finds sexy and endearing.
It’s a heady rush, to be sure.
She dips her head and glances a pecking kiss on his top lip. Teasing him. Evan reciprocates with a delicious, playful tease of his own before pulling back just out of reach. God, he’s hot. She wants to absolutely devour him. Slowly. Savoring each kiss, every touch. Tonight’s vibe between them is different than it has been in recent nights. Less frantic, she supposes, but just as passionate…maybe even more so. On some level she knows it’s going to be better. She can’t wait to test that hypothesis. A switch is flipped, and they hurriedly meet in the middle this time, their mouths slanting hotly over one another. Violet loops her arms around his neck and rolls her hips once in his lap, groaning when she feels his half-hard cock press deliciously against the seam of her jeans. Oh yes.
If only his cell phone would kindly stop ringing, they could work on getting each other’s clothes off and then each other.
Evan pulls away, hopefully to silence his phone, and she feels him tense under her. “CFD brass,” he tells her.
“Oh,” Violet replies, understanding that he can’t ignore it.
He glances back with a rueful smile as she slides off his lap. “I gotta…pick it up.”
“Mhmm.”
“Hello,” he answers, promptly clearing his throat. Violet watches the scene in amusement while he tries to compose himself with his boss on the line. She thinks of a joke immediately about being cockblocked by your boss, but she’s also currently sleeping with her boss, so. Best to let that one die inside her brain. “Mhmm. Yeah—yes. I’ll be there,” he says.
Evidently it’s going to be a quick call, and Violet’s excitement ramps back up, eager to resume kissing and touching him. Smiling, she inches forward to reach for him as he ends the call. “That was the Deputy Chief Paramedic,” Evan says, turning back to meet her eyes. “He wants to see me in his office first thing tomorrow morning.”
Talk about a bucket of cold water dousing the flames on their evening. Turns out she wasn’t so wrong about his boss cockblocking them after all.
Instantly she feels caught. Like they’ve been caught. Her brain begins whirring a hundred miles a minute over potential ramifications in the fallout. None of which are good. For the first time since they started seeing each other, Evan appears worried. All along he’s been the one reassuring her that everything will be fine, but now she’s not so sure that’s true. Maybe she’s blowing things out of proportion. Tomorrow’s meeting could have nothing at all to do with their relationship, and she’s simply being paranoid about kissing him outside of Med and possibly getting seen. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she runs a nervous hand along her collarbone and asks, “Did he say why?”
Evan shakes his head once, his jaw clenched into a hard line. “No,” he replies flatly. He offers no further elaboration, and it leaves a sour taste in her mouth.
“Okay…” she says, the word hanging awkwardly in the space between them.
Normally he leads the charge on communicating, and up to this point he’s been excellent at it. All of the great conversations they’ve had since their first night together have meant so much to her, allowing them both to form a deeper connection that surpassed the physical. Hushed conversations in the dark, tangled around each other once the sweat cooled from their bodies. Talking and laughing over a bottle of wine, tucked away into a corner booth of a restaurant, losing all track of time until the owner informed them it was time to go. And all the spaces in between. The timing of his sudden closed-lipped routine is piss poor. He feels like a stranger.
Another awkward beat passes. Then another. Silence waiting to be filled. Evan’s eyes are trained on hers, but it’s almost as though he’s looking through her rather than actually seeing her. Something about that terrifies her.
She hates it. Instead of taking the reins this time and pushing him to talk the way she ought to, she leans into the panic clawing low in her gut telling her to bail while she can.
Violet slides swiftly off the bed. “I’m gonna go ahead and get out of your hair, alright?” Stooping down, she swipes up her discarded jacket off the floor.
“Stop.”
Oh, so he can still speak. God, she is being a total brat. It’s almost an out-of-body experience, watching the scene from the outside and recognizing the train wreck before it happens, and she’s powerless to stop it.
Evan skirts around her and positions his body in front of the doorway, blocking her exit. His brows are pinched tightly together, his eyes hard and clear staring down at her. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” she clips, lifting her chin defiantly, daring him to stop her.
Evan’s face dissolves into a deep frown, and he scrubs a hand over his mouth, muffling a weary sigh. “Don’t—don’t do that, Violet. Please.”
His sincere please throws her off-balance, and the mask she’d put into place slips. Truth be told, she doesn’t really want to leave his place, leave him. But she also doesn’t want to stay and have this difficult conversation either. Ugh! Why can’t she behave like a rational adult?
She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t make any further moves to leave.
“I have whiplash from the last few minutes. Can you gimme a second to regain my footing here?” he asks, shuffling into her personal space. Before she can stop him, Evan wraps one arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug, his other arm snaking around her waist.
Violet resists, holding on to the brattiness, and keeps her arms down at her side. His now-familiar body is warm and firmly pressed against hers, and the intoxicating, woodsy scent of his cologne surrounds her, clouding her senses and fraying her resolve. His lips brush delicately along the hairline at her temple. “Why are you running?” he murmurs.
Resistance is futile. “I don’t know,” she admits, dropping her jacket to wrap her arms around his waist and splaying her hands over his back. Closing her eyes and tucking her chin neatly into the crook of his neck, she relaxes fully against him. He has a point about the whiplash from too many emotions crammed into a short span. She’s feeling the effects herself. What was she thinking by trying to run away like that? Jesus. “Sorry,” she says, holding him a little tighter, “I’ll stay.”
They linger in the doorway, hugging each other for a few moments. Violet suspects she’s not the only one in the room currently struggling for what to say next.
Finally, Evan drops a kiss to the crown of her head and unwinds his arms from around her body, taking a step back. “We need to talk.”
Oh, okay. Just one of the most anxiety-inducing sentences in existence. No big deal. Cool, cool, cool. Nervously smoothing a hand down her ponytail, she nods. “Do you want to talk here or—?”
Evan shrugs one shoulder, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Wherever you’re comfortable,” he answers.
Wherever she’s comfortable? Comfortable for what? Him breaking up with her? Because she’s definitely not comfortable with that idea. Maybe she should have run when she had the chance after all. Instead of telling him that, she settles for, “Here’s fine.”
Turning, she walks over to his bed, trying to forget how amazing they were just ten minutes ago, and sits down, scooting back to lean against the headboard, criss crossing her legs underneath her. Evan sits at the foot of the bed facing her, very similar to the positions they were in prior to her freaking out. Averting his eyes, she focuses on the distressed spot on her jeans over the knee, absently picking at the threads until his large hand covers her.
“Hey,” he says quietly, and she lifts her gaze to his, and finds his normally steady eyes lacking their normal confidence. “Babe—you gotta clue me in here, alright? What is going on?”
Babe. If he’s still calling her the pet name she secretly loves, then maybe he’s not about to end things. God, she’s ridiculous. Open your damn mouth and speak, you dumbass. “I’m kinda freaking out here.”
“If you’re worried about that call—”
Violet shakes her head and cuts him off. “No, Evan, it’s you I’m worried about. You’re freaking me out.”
Confusion washes over his face, his lips pinched into a frown. “Okay, two questions. One, how so? And two…if you’re worried about me, why was your first response to bail out of here like the place was on fire?”
His frustrated tone sends a wave of embarrassment flooding through her, and she feels the flush rise up her neck and into her cheeks. Frustration is understandable, and probably too charitable an emotion, if she’s being completely honest. If the roles were reversed, she’d want to throttle him. Chagrined, she casts her eyes down to focus on the striped pattern of his comforter. “Not my best moment, I’ll admit.”
Evan’s fingers fold around hers, gently squeezing them in his grasp. Almost like a reminder hey, I’m still here, patiently waiting for you to start talking. She takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds, then slowly exhales.
“For the first time since we started dating, you seemed genuinely worried about this. After that phone call, you had this—this distant stare, like you were looking right through me. I thought to myself, Here it comes, Violet. The moment he realizes that you’re not worth all this trouble and he’s gonna call it quits. I couldn’t stick around and hear you say that, so I decided to bounce.”
“Violet,” he says in a quiet voice, unwrapping his hand from hers to tilt her chin up. His head dips until their eyes finally meet. They’re soft and kind and a little sad. Her heart clenches in her chest and she knows losing him will leave a bruise on her heart that may never fully heal. “Why on Earth would you think that?”
“Because this is affecting your career now, Evan! You’ve worked so hard to get where you are at such a young age, and I know how much it matters to you.”
“Well, yeah, it does. But guess what? You matter to me, too!”
Evan’s words warm through her body like champagne bubbles. But much like those bubbles, reality sets in and the fantasy fizzles out in a hurry. “You matter to me,” Violet insists, (boy, does he ever), “which is why we need to be realistic about this. My God, Evan…you’re a complete catch and you could have anyone you wanted. Anyone who doesn’t report to you in the chain of command. Anyone else would make your life easier.”
Evan shifts forward on the bed, letting his body drift closer to hers. His hands cup her face, staring at her intently. “I don’t know who any one of these hypothetical women are, but I’ll tell you who they are not and never will be. And that’s you.”
Bracketing his face with her palms, Violet closes her eyes, gently resting her forehead against his. She’s overwhelmed by him, in the best sense of the word. She wants to live in this moment, wrapped up in the confidence with which he spoke those words.
Violet is her own worst enemy.
“I have similar fears, too,” he tells her, interrupting the tortuous part of her brain that loves to derail her happiness.
She drops her hands to her lap and leans back, putting some distance between them. “What do you mean?”
“Will my lapse in judgment in bumping your ambo to the front of the line for repairs and riding shifts on 61 blow back on you somehow? I don’t know.”
“You said we can’t get in trouble for this,” Violet counters, a streak of panic coursing through her veins.
Evan’s half-smile is apologetic. “Dating isn’t against the rules. But the CFD rumor mill? Busybodies who have nothing better to talk about? That might blow back on you, and I hate myself for putting you in that position. You’re a rockstar at your job, and I don’t want your career to potentially stall because of me.”
No. She definitely doesn’t want that either. It’s tough being a woman in this field, and she works her ass off to prove herself every single day. Staying a paramedic isn’t the long-term goal. Moving up in the ranks, that’s the goal. She wants it so badly she can taste it. And she’s damn well capable of it. Stella’s advice rings loudly in her ears. Who gives a damn what people think?
“That path is going to be hard no matter what simply because I’m a woman. I don’t care what people think, Evan. I am going to outwork everyone and prove beyond a shadow of a doubt how damn good I am. Until they have no choice but to bow down and give me a white shirt.”
Face cracking into a wide grin, he chuckles. “Hell yes you will, Violet!” he says proudly. “You’ll probably be my boss one day.”
He’s always hyping her up. How lucky is she? Violet smiles back at him, the majority of the tension between them dissipating. “I would look really good in that crisp, white shirt, all I’m saying.”
Evan’s eyes heat up instantly, his weighted stare tracking over her face, down to her mouth. She wonders if, like her, he’s remembering the time she’d slipped into his white chief’s shirt and a pair of red panties and leaned against the doorway of his kitchen while he made dinner. Once he’d noticed her, he unceremoniously dropped the spoon into the pan, turned off the stove, and ate her on the kitchen table instead. Fuck.
“Can we put a pin in this discussion for a bit and make out or something?” she asks with a flirty smile. She’s still pent up from earlier, and she’d gladly lay money down that Evan is, too. There’s more to unpack, certainly, but their conversation has been productive and honest thus far. Surely they can take a timeout to make each other feel good for a little while. After all, isn’t this connection between them a big part of what they’re both fighting for?
“Yeah, definitely,” he answers, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Violet rocks up onto her knees, meeting Evan in the middle of the bed and slides her hands over his chest, up to rest on his shoulders. Bowing her head, she fits her lips neatly over his in a long, soft kiss. Evan’s hands span across her waist, and when she pulls back, he’s staring up at her again, another look of adoration in his eyes for her. But there’s something else mixed in with it this time. Something wistful and pensive that sends a pang of sadness through her chest. Clearly their talk hasn’t settled all of his fears. Perhaps her kisses can be a balm, and show him how much she wants to keep him.
He lies back, gently pulling her along, and rolling them until she’s underneath him with his upper body pinning her to the mattress and one leg slotted firmly between her thighs. His weight is delicious on top of her, and she sighs richly, raking her fingers through his hair. “Kiss me, Evan.”
Evan drops his head and kisses her so tenderly that it gives her pause. There’s zero rush or insistence on his part as he leisurely peppers kisses over her cheeks, and chin, down the curve of her jaw. Kisses designed more to treasure and cherish rather than to please. He even lightly kisses the tip of her nose. It’s impossibly sweet. Opening his eyes while he hovers above her, he gazes into her eyes for an extended moment, so devastatingly handsome her belly gives a slow, pleasant flip. Violet wants to cling to the romance of it all.
If only she could chase away the feeling that on some level he’s trying to tell her goodbye.
Not willing to entertain that idea, she shuts her eyes and pulls him down for a more decisive kiss. Her lips are sure and demanding as opposed to delicate and exploratory, but still she takes her time.
Evidently content on driving her insane, Evan continues to take his precious time, sipping at her mouth, trading long, drawn-out kisses with her while keeping his hand in an annoyingly safe location on her hip over her jeans. It feels good, don’t get her wrong, he’s an excellent kisser, and this is quite the wonderful distraction. But he’s not trying to urge them forward in the least bit. No feeling her up or removing any clothing whatsoever. In his defense, she had asked him if he wanted to make out, and that is exactly what they’re doing. Making out on his bed like a couple of teenagers.
Shifting slightly on top of her, his thigh presses higher between her legs. The friction pulls a moan from the back of her throat and she rolls her hips up, seeking more. Evan breaks the kiss with a grunt of his own, staring down at her with blown pupils. “Can I go down on you?” he asks, his voice raspy. “Please.”
His sexy question is both music to her ears and a hammer of lust low in her belly. “Oh, God, yeah,” she replies, shoving impatiently at his shoulders, earning a quiet laugh for her efforts. “Get down there.” He kisses her again, deep and thorough, until her head is spinning. His ability to keep her on her toes never ceases to impress her. “You’re a menace, Evan Hawkins!” she pants once he pulls back.
He grins boyishly and slides down her body, rucking up her shirt to kiss the flat planes of her stomach. The pad of his thumb brushes back and forth over the fading scar from her appendectomy seconds before he presses a gentle kiss there. Violet shivers at the tender moment, a shared, intense memory from their earliest days of knowing one another. She’d asked him about it one time, not all that long ago, whether or not he had a thing for her even then, sitting at her bedside in the hospital and fetching bubbly water. Evan had kissed her to distraction, but when she pressed him again, he’d just shrugged and said, “Isn’t it obvious? I’ve been gone for you from pretty much the moment we met, Violet.”
He kisses the scar again, almost reverently, and casts warm eyes up to briefly meet hers. They share a secret smile, the memories twisting around Violet’s heart, before he resumes kissing his way down her body.
Popping open the buttons on her jeans, Evan eases the zipper down, and parts the denim covering her belly. Then he slowly licks a long line from the top of her panties up to her belly button, igniting pinpricks of pleasure over her skin. “You’re gonna draw this out, aren’t you?” she asks, knowing good and goddamn well the answer to that question already.
Resting his chin on her stomach, he grins wolfishly up at her. “You’re a smart girl. What do you think?”
He’ll make it so good for her. He always does.
*****
Evan hooks his fingers into the waistband of her jeans to ease them down, and Violet shifts slightly and helps him get them over her hips. Then she grabs the hem of her black shirt and lifts it up and off her body. He freezes for a moment at the glorious sight of her on his bed in a light blue lace bra and a matching pair of the tiniest panties he’s seen on her to date. Fuck. With a wanton smile, she props herself up on her elbows, her head angled slightly while staring heatedly back at him. Crazy beautiful, he’d called her yesterday. And he’d meant it. She takes his breath away. “You’re gorgeous!” he tells her softly, sinking to his knees on the side of his bed.
Tonight has been a lot to take in during a short length of time. His mind is reeling from it, from her. All he wants right now is to make her feel good. Drive them both to distraction from whatever awaits them tomorrow. Show her without words what she means to him.
Gently circling his hand around her right ankle, he draws her leg up over his left shoulder. Turning his head, he presses a kiss to her calf, skimming his fingers over her knee, up the inside of her thigh. His lips follow the path of his fingers, up, up, up making her arch and sigh pleasantly above him. Stopping short of her center, Evan instead licks the crease of her thigh, pulling a low whine out of her. He flicks his eyes up to hers, and offers her a rakish smile before drawing back and repeating the motions on her left leg.
“Evan,” she huffs out a breathy laugh when he lingers a bit on the ticklish spot behind her knee and sits upright. Her thighs spread further apart under the breadth of his shoulders in this angle, and the growing damp spot on her panties is enough to make him insane. “Stop teasing me,” she pleads, carding her fingers through his hair.
He hasn’t really begun teasing her yet, and she knows it. The pout on her face when he tells her as much is far more attractive than it has any right to be. Bowing his head, Evan brushes his nose over her center, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her arousal. Violet gasps at the contact, and his cock twitches in his jeans. Her sounds drive him wild. He loves everything they do in bed together, but eating her out is his absolute favorite. There’s nothing better than worshiping her with his mouth until she falls apart.
Mouthing her through the lace of her panties, Evan groans when the first taste of her hits his tongue. Violet cants her hips slightly and whimpers, tugging his hair more firmly in her hands. “Please! I need more, Evan.”
The begging always gets him.
Sitting back, he lowers her legs to the floor and gently grabs her hips, slipping his pinky fingers beneath the thin straps of her underwear. “Stand up so I can take these off,” he instructs. Violet does as he asks, resting her hands on his shoulders, and Evan slowly slides the miniscule scrap of lace off her body. Tipping back his head, he rests his chin on her stomach to look at her. The wild, desperate expression in her eyes coupled with fingertips flexing and curving into his shoulders pulls another wicked grin from him. “Lie down and spread your legs for me.”
“Fuck,” she swears under her breath, sitting down and lying back on the bed. Drawing her legs up, she plants her heels hip width apart on the mattress, letting her knees fall open, giving him the best view. Evan slides his hands up her inner thighs, gently nudging her legs further apart, and lowers his mouth until he’s just hovering over her center. He exhales slowly, blowing a long, hot breath against her that makes Violet arch and moan. “Baby, c’mon!” she pleads, pushing her cunt closer.
Sure, he enjoys teasing her, but even he has his limits. And they’ve been exceeded. Evan licks a leisurely stripe up her slit with the flat of his tongue, then repeats it a few more times to warm her up. Violet makes a pleasant little mewl of approval and runs fingers through the hair on top of his head.
One hand glides higher on her thigh, skimming fingers along her side and over her ribs while swirling and flicking his tongue against her folds, languidly working her into a frenzy. That hand travels higher still, cupping her breast and teasing the nipple with the pad of his thumb.
“Feels so good,” Violet mumbles, draping her free leg over his shoulder and pressing her heel into his back to pull him closer. Eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure, she rolls her hips in tight, desperate circles, rutting against his mouth in search of more. He loves it when she gets like this. Wanting, seeking, desperate to come. She’s beautiful.
He continues to take his time, concentrating on her clit for short stretches. Just enough to drive her to the edge and leave her panting and writhing, begging for release, before backing off and slowly licking her slit. After the third time, a whiny, frustrated groan rips out of her mouth and Evan smirks wickedly against her, lifting his eyes to her face. Cheeks flushed, pupils blown with arousal, brow dotted with beads of sweat. It’s sexy as hell. “Dammit, Evan! Please!”
Evan swirls circles around her clit then sucks it into his mouth. Knowing she wants more, he unceremoniously slips two fingers into her heat as deep as they’ll go, and Violet cries out her approval. “Oh my God! Yes!” He works her in earnest now, his fingers sliding wetly in and out of her body, driving her up as high as he can while he hums around her clit. Violet tugs hard on his hair, and fuck, it feels good. She’s getting close. He can feel her cunt clenching around his fingers, so he starts roughly crooking them the way that always sets her off. A few more seconds and her thighs start twitching—a telltale sign that she’s closer still. Moans spill brokenly past her lips. Evan gently bites down on her clit, and that’s the final push she needs to come undone. Her hips buck wildly against his face as she bows off the mattress, clutching him as close as possible. Body shaking with her orgasm, his name tears out of her mouth and echoes off the walls of his bedroom. It’s his favorite sound.
Easing up, he withdraws his fingers and softly licks her until the last wave has ebbed through her and she can’t take any more, shoving his face away. “Okay, okay. Jesus!” she pants, reaching for the hand that’s settled at her waist and lacing their fingers together. She gives his hand a squeeze and her lips curve with a slow, satisfied grin. Evan swipes the back of his hand across his mouth then smiles warmly back at her, loving the look of pure bliss on her face.
Her grip tightens around his hand as she pulls herself upright, slipping her leg off his shoulder and planting her foot on the floor. With her free hand, she grabs the front of his shirt and tugs him in for a kiss, eagerly licking into his mouth and chasing the taste of herself there. Her greedy tongue slides along his while she devours his mouth, groaning in an utterly filthy way that makes every nerve in his body spark with lust. It’s something she does every time he goes down on her, and it’s so fucking hot it drives him insane.
Breathless, Violet sits back, not releasing her hold on his shirt. Mischief colors every expression in her eyes and on her face. “Your turn,” she informs him as a wicked smile takes hold of her mouth. She pulls hard on his shirt again, and Evan takes the hint, pushing up to his feet. Immediately, her hands glide up the outside of his thighs, his hips, until they land on his belt. Violet glances at him through her eyelashes as she frees the strap from the buckle. “Take off your shirt.”
Violet bossing him around during sex whips him into a frenzy every time. He obliges her command and peels off his shirt, very much enjoying the way her dark eyes rake appreciatively down his chest. Her sexy little hum of approval followed by a flash of pink tongue darting across her lower lip fans the flames licking low in his gut. His cock is painfully hard now, straining against the zipper, and he pushes his hips forward, desperately seeking friction from her hands. Taking a small amount of mercy on him, Violet brushes her fingers along the length of him over his jeans, and he’s not proud of the groan that leaves his mouth.
“Look how keyed up you are,” Violet nearly purrs. Thankfully, she unbuttons his jeans and eases the zipper down before reaching her hand inside to stroke him through his boxers. Fighting to keep his hips still, Evan blows out a ragged breath and runs his hands through his hair.
He’s not going to last long.
Evan hooks his hands under her armpits and hauls her to her feet, tugging her against him. Violet’s sexy little surprised gasp shoots straight to his dick, and he desperately wants to feel her hot hand wrapped around him. “Violet, please,” he mumbles, dropping his lips to hers in a messy kiss. Together they work to shuck his pants and boxers down past his hips, and she reaches between their bodies to grip him in her hand. His hips jerk reflexively from her touch as he moans into her mouth.
The strokes of her fist are firm and sure and perfect, and already he can feel his balls tightening with his impending release. He should be ashamed of how quickly this is happening, but he was already too far gone after going down on her. Besides, with how good it feels to have Violet jerking him off, he doesn’t really care. Still, he breaks the kiss and says, apologetically, “This is going to be over embarrassingly fast.”
“So?” she replies, smiling at him and curving her free hand along the side of his neck. “I just want to make you feel good.” Then—fuck—she twists her wrist just right and nearly makes his eyes roll back in his head.
Settling his hands on her hips, Evan sucks in a breath through his teeth and rocks himself against her hand. “Uh, yeah, you’re—doing great.” He risks watching her hand pump his cock, but the sight of it proves too much for his already overstimulated body. Growling out a low curse, his eyes flutter closed, and he gives up trying to fight off his orgasm. Evan wraps his hand around her fist, encouraging a tighter grip, and a dozen more strokes is all it takes to push him over the edge. His vision blurs and he groans, coming hot over their entwined fingers and her stomach.
He shudders against her, his breaths coming out in ragged huffs in the space between them as she milks the last of his orgasm from his body. Violet stills her hand and kisses his cheek. “That was hot,” she murmurs into his ear, drawing a chuckle out of him.
“Very,” he agrees, patting her hip. He filches a quick kiss, then bends down to retrieve his shirt off the floor to clean them both up. “Sorry, about—” he starts, but Violet cuts him off.
“Oh, shut up,” she teases, playfully shoving at his shoulder. “It’s hardly the first time. I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
Evan laughs again. He can’t disagree. “No, it won’t be.” Pulling up his boxers, he lets gravity do the work with his jeans and he kicks them off. “You’re staying, right?” he asks hopefully, reaching for her hands and rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. Though he feels better now than he did earlier, he still can’t shake this sense of foreboding deep inside that the other shoe is about to drop. He doesn’t want her to leave. Tonight or any night. And he intends to hold on to her for as long as he possibly can.
A soft, pretty smile replaces the teasing grin on her face. It’s nearly bashful, which is a word he’d never think to use to describe her. It’s yet another layer to this amazing woman he’s so crazy about. She nods once and leans in to neatly fit her lips over his. “I’m staying,” she says, the breath of her words fanning out against his mouth. Even though he suspected she would, the confirmation goes a little further to settling his nerves. Tipping her head back, the left corner of her mouth quirks up. “Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?”
He doesn’t bother stopping the smile that blooms over his face. She’s adorable. “Absolutely. Whatever you want.”
*****
Evan’s alarm rings obnoxiously early the next morning. It’s still dark outside, and Violet whines, pulling the blankets up over her head to block out the offending noise. She’s exhausted to the bone. She and Evan stayed up too late talking some more, and then—not talking—when things got too heavy and they needed another distraction. Those distractions lasted well into the middle of the night, and now she has to be on-shift while Evan…Evan has to report to the Deputy Chief Paramedic and find out what fate awaits him.
The gnawing pit of dread in her stomach has returned with a vengeance. There are too many unknowns looming, and they make it hard to predict what the outcome is going to be. Ugh! She hates this.
Quickly the alarm is silenced, and she feels Evan stretch beside her, a sleepy groan rattling out of him. Violet rolls to her other side and inches closer so she can snuggle him for a minute. In an instant, he has his arm up to create a space for her—the way he often does—then folds it around her back while she finds a comfortable spot and settles her head on his chest. Their legs tangle effortlessly beneath the sheets as she wraps her arm around his middle, splaying her fingers over his ribcage.
“I know we have to get up,” she mutters, her voice wrecked by sleep. “Just…give me five minutes like this. Okay?”
Evan hums agreeably, stroking a hand over her hair. His voice is thick and hoarse when he replies, “I hit snooze. We’ve got ten.”
Maybe there are things she should say to him, but everything in her head seems insufficient. Instead, she soaks up his warmth, enjoying the feeling of safety and comfort—however fleeting—this bubble has provided them as the clock runs out.
“Today’s your first shift as PIC,” he says softly, his fingers absently stroking her upper arm.
It is. In the wake of everything else, she’d nearly forgotten. “Yeah. It’s still weird without Brett,” she admits.
“You’ll be great, I know it. You’re so deserving.”
Her stomach flips pleasantly at the confidence he has in her abilities. Confidence that he’s shown her pretty much from the jump. It’s a wonderful thing having this man in her corner. “Thank you,” she murmurs, pressing her lips to his chest.
“I mean it, Violet,” he adds. “Whoever your new partner ends up being will learn a lot from you.”
She hopes that’s true. Sylvie taught her so much in their time together as partners, and Violet wants to be a good leader and mentor for her new partner. If only she weren’t so rattled by her personal life this morning, she could focus on that.
What she needs to do is go for a run, no matter how horribly that will suck this morning on so little sleep, and clear her head. She needs to get ready at her place, grab her favorite bagels and coffee for breakfast. Prepare for the day ahead.
So, she turns her head and, morning breath be damned, pulls his mouth down for a kiss, then tries to extract herself from his arms. Evan grunts in dissent, and envelops her fully. “We still have a few minutes.” While she can’t see his face clearly in the dark, the pout is evident in his voice. It's cute.
“You’ll be proud of me—I’m going to get a run in before shift.”
“Fine,” he sighs, giving her one last squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “But know that I’d rather stay here with you all day.”
Violet smiles and caresses his face. “Same here, but we have to go out there and brave the cruel, windy streets of Chicago.” She drops one last kiss on his lips before kicking off the blankets.
She quickly uses the bathroom and brushes her teeth with the spare toothbrush Evan had bought for her a while back. So you don’t have to carry one with you every time you come over. At the time, she’d gotten a little spun up about it, freaking out that they were moving too fast. But Evan had calmly listened to her rant, kissed her, then said Violet, it’s a toothbrush, not a key to my house. Besides, I bought myself a new one and they come in packs of two. She suspected that last part wasn’t true, but it was a sweet gesture nonetheless and she decided to stop being weird about the whole thing. She’d even returned the favor and got him a toothbrush for her place.
After rinsing out her mouth, she sets her purple toothbrush in the holder next to his blue one. Why the sight of their toothbrushes side by side suddenly makes her want to cry is beyond her, but that’s where she’s at this morning. Looking in the mirror, she tells herself to get a damn grip.
Once she’s dressed, she finds Evan in the kitchen making coffee. “Hey, I’m gonna take off,” she says, wrapping her arms around him from behind and kissing the back of his shoulder. “Good luck with your meeting.”
Evan turns around and wraps her into a tight hug. He’s nervous, and honestly so is she. “Thanks. I’ll call you after, okay?” Violet merely nods and holds onto him a little longer. “Good luck to you, too,” he says softly against her hair. Finally, he pulls back and presses a lingering kiss to her lips. “Be careful driving home.”