Zaccaro

freezing glass. I want to forget the woes of my life. I refuse to believe my bakery might not be my own in the near future or that I have a next to non-existent sex life. In fact, I haven’t been touched in almost a half a year, let alone kissed.
Never have I ever been kissed like this. My body literally aches for Evan to do with it as he so pleases.
Evan takes to my neck again. His eagerness is exhilarating as it is arousing.
“You smell so fucking sweet.” His deep voice coupled with the way his nose nudges my neck has my core aching.
The sensation of his fingertips scorching across the sensitive skin at my hips makes my sex tighten in anticipation. My brain is beginning to divide against itself. Logic and desire are in an internal battle, as one hemisphere of my brain keeps registering that Evan is a COP, and the other can’t get passed his smoldering, brown eyes. My hands weave through his hair, massaging the chocolate-brown tresses. “Evan, fuck me now! Please,” I gasp.
His low laugh is warm against my collarbone, and it sends a riot of chills throughout my being. Once again a spurt of wetness catches me by surprise. I play with the silk buttons of his shirt, but am too feverish to unclasp it. Evan places a hand over my shaking fingers. With one hand, he pulls at the Italian silk shirt. Buttons clatter onto the floor.
We're both just a little bit drunk, but I rest my hand on his firm pectorals imagining licking each chiseled muscle. Each one has been cut from the finest stone. There is only the faintest flurry of dark hair below his navel disappearing beneath his tailored pants. The rest of Evan is taut golden skin.
Though I’m still dressed, Evan says, “Fuck, you are a sight, Reese, I can’t take my eyes off you.” His tone has an edge to it. I have a feeling he can detect the finest hint of my body trembling. He feeds off my innocence. He sets me down on solid ground, and his thumb caresses the pulse at my wrist. Then Evan spins me around in one debonair, agile move. My palms plant against the glass as he unzips my dress. It falls to the floor, and he gasps at the sight of me as I take in the city lights below.
The kisses at the back of my neck force my knees to cave. “I gotcha, beautiful,” Evan says reverently. He’s more attuned with my body than I am, and I’ve been stuck with myself for twenty-six years. He turns me back toward him, undoes the front clasp of my strapless bra.
In total silence, the lace bra falls to the floor. I don’t have the biggest breasts in the world, but the sex in Evan’s eye has me alternate from drawing my hands over myself to standing tall in confidence.
He closes the space between us again. His presence consumes me. I tell myself to breathe. The silence is everything, yet my mind was made to gravitate toward my flaws. Without a word, Evan’s hands cup my breasts, brushing his thumbs across my tingling, hard nipples. The sensation erases all thought from my cognition as it propels a sharp shot of pleasure straight to my nether regions.
My feathery lashes kiss against my cheekbones as he bends down. His mouth lowers onto my right nipple, and I moan. He licks and flicks at the hardened bud, sending my desire in a tailspin right down to my pussy.
My breath flows softly over my parted lips. I pant and beg, “Fuck me, Evan…”
He groans into one breast while applying pressure to the other nipple. The pleasure and pain concept forces my body to waiver with desire. Because my brain is now defective, I don’t even argue about him not listening. Once more, I purr, “Please fuck me, Evan…”
Paying me no heed, Evan’s warm breath caresses against the curve of my breast. Though he is oblivious to my verbalization, he attends to my body in ways I’m not even aware to ask for. I am weak, he holds me up.
Out of nowhere, my cell phone vibrates. The old ringtone—my best friend Jamie’s ringtone—is loud and clear. My eyes close tightly as the friend-anthem song clashes with the moment. Damn you, Jamie, I wish I could say, but know this is for the best. Since junior high school, Jamie and I have looked out for each other more than we look out for ourselves. It takes sheer willpower for me to utter the word, “Stop.”
Instantaneously Evan stops. This isn’t like before when I put my foot in my mouth mentioning not sleeping with cops. He seems aware that this is the end of the line.
Evan embodies the ultimate gentleman. He stands to his full height. A coldness clings to my body, and it seems he’s taller than before, taller, sexier, or my senses are amplified, and bruised with desire. I’m eyelevel with his taut chest. That Mediterranean gaze searches my wayward one as he softly bites the nail of his thumb. Without words, Evan beckons me back to him. And, oh boy, it takes every inch of my willpower to tear my gander from his enthralling one. The lips of my pussy quiver and I force myself not to stare at him.
Drenched in silence, he reminds me of a lion stalking his prey, calmly waiting for me to react. A piece of my soul dies. I lean against the window, attempting to catch my breath. I’m not a fucking one-night stand type of girl. It’d be more embarrassing completing the walk-of-shame after giving himself a cherished piece of me. Leaving now is easy-peasy.
“Th-thank you, f-for the drink.” My eyes flit over the man I should have never taken a ride with. I take a breath, hoping I haven’t been the tease of the century. “I’ll call a taxi when I get to the lobby downstairs.”
Evan nods, rubbing