[Book One]
Agatha Miller Nash thought she was finally starting to have the perfect life she always dreamed of while growing up.
She had a job that made her feel proud of herself, the man that she would spend the rest of her life with, and a place s...
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T H I R T Y O N E
"I swear I'm going to kill him," I muttered under my breath. Putting my hands on my hips, I stared at the refrigerator, trying to figure out a way to get the sticks of butter that were currently sitting at the very back of the fridge on the top shelf without having to climb the refrigerator like an animal.
At this point, I couldn't even remember how many conversations I've had with Evan about not putting things I frequently use on the back of the fridge or the top shelves on the cabinets because, unlike him, I'm not 20 feet tall. But of course, he is a guy and whatever I tell him to do is like telling a brick wall.
Standing on my tiptoes, I stretched an arm, trying to grab the sticks with some tongs I found in a drawer. "Gotcha."
As I started making a cake for May's graduation party from scratch, Evan abruptly entered the apartment, throwing his keys on the table and slamming the door shut behind him without saying a word.
"Hey, how did it go?" I asked reluctantly. I tried to read his facial expression, but I couldn't. He was not showing any emotion that would indicate how his meeting with Abby went.
After a couple of days since he promised me that he would meet up with Abby, they finally met today.
Without any replies, Evan made his way to the kitchen. The next thing I knew, he had me pinned against the counter. Before I could say anything, his lips pressed against mine desperately. Grabbing me by the hips, he lifted me onto the counter, knocking the ingredients I had laid out in the process.
"Evan," I gasped as his lips trailed down my neck to my collarbone. "What's all this about?" I closed my eyes and let the sensation of his lips against my exposed skin overwhelmed me with pleasure. If I didn't concentrate, such delicate kisses on my skin would send me over the edge. I have gotten no action in almost a year which I might as well be considered a nun.
"I want you," he whispered, his voice deeper than usual. Pulling away slightly, he looked at me, a serious expression on his handsome face. "Only if you are ready and want to, of course."
Running my thumb over the birthmark on his eyebrow, I chuckled. "Consent is cute and all, but we have had this tension between us going on for way too long, and you have no idea how bad I need this, so shut up and kiss me."
"And here I am trying to be a gentleman,"
"Why are you still talking?" I questioned, hooking my fingers through the belt loops of his jeans. I pulled him towards me forcefully, our chests pressing against each other. Evan arched his eyebrows at me with a devilish grin on his lips before kissing me again, this time with his gentleness being replaced by aggression and need.
