More Than Friends (18 page)

“Mel,” Evelyn whispered, her voice rough with arousal and her eyes communicating so much more desire than words ever could. Did she read the same struggle in Melanie’s expression? “One of us needs to be strong enough to stop this.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not me,” she said. Her stomach twisted in anxious anticipation, but arousal trumped fear. She tilted her head and brushed her lips against Evelyn’s. Her nerves melted under the warmth of Evelyn’s mouth. She slipped her hand against the back of Evelyn’s neck, under her hair, and traced her tongue over her lower lip.

They clung together, each holding on as if afraid the other would suddenly come to her senses and pull away.

Evelyn opened to her, meeting each stroke of her tongue, pouring all the passion she’d caged into this kiss. Finally not holding back, she caressed Melanie’s wine-flavored lips, tasting the sting of sour apple and tart grapes. She twisted, urging Melanie back into the couch. As she rose over her, Melanie’s thigh slipped between hers. She pressed down instinctively, craving the firm pressure against the fly of her jeans. When she rotated her hips, Melanie shoved one hand under her shirt and ran her nails over her back.

Evelyn eased back, needing to breathe. She angled to one side, bracing herself on one elbow and kept her forehead pressed to Melanie’s temple.

“God, Mel.” She couldn’t have anticipated how deeply the taste of Melanie’s lips would rock her.
I am in very big trouble here.
Hell, she’d practically humped Melanie’s thigh just now and had thoroughly enjoyed it.

“Yeah,” Melanie whispered. “That was nothing like kissing a sibling.”

She couldn’t pull her eyes from Melanie’s face, so close to hers. Melanie’s pupils were dilated, her irises little more than a verdant ring around their dark centers. They had been friends for years and she had never felt this spark, no, this inferno of sexual attraction. If she’d been asked, she would have guessed a kiss between them would be a little awkward, uncomfortable, even. But, for her at least, nothing had ever felt more natural or genuine.

“What now?” she asked, as she touched the spot on Melanie’s neck where her pulse beat visibly under her skin.

“We’ll talk about it. But first, I want to do that again.” Melanie pulled her back in, covering her mouth more aggressively.

*

“Stay,” Melanie murmured, throwing her arm across Evelyn’s chest. She’d be content to lie here on her couch kissing Evelyn all night. But if the high of arousal waned even slightly they would both probably realize how uncomfortably situated they were. Evelyn reclined against the arm of the sofa and Melanie sprawled across her, resting her head on Evelyn’s shoulder. While they’d kissed, their legs had tangled together in a desperate effort to get closer to one another, to create teasing, agonizing friction between them.

“I shouldn’t.” Evelyn didn’t move.

“Nothing more has to happen.” She snuggled closer.

After a long pause, Evelyn said quietly, “I can’t be your rebound.”

She tilted her head back, but Evelyn was staring at the ceiling, and from this angle Melanie could only see her chin. “That’s not what this is.”

“You haven’t dated anyone since Kendall.”

That was true, but she and Kendall had been emotionally separated for so long that her mind felt clear. She’d made her decision with clarity and wasn’t looking for a fling to convince her it was right. “You’re not a rebound.”

“Then what am I?”

She sighed. “A friend.” Yeah, it was a lame answer. But she couldn’t define what was going on between them. Evelyn was one of her best friends—her closest friend, given her current relationship with Kendall. She’d never wanted to jeopardize that, but now that she’d kissed her, she had definitely changed their relationship. So she either took the chance of pursuing it or figured out how to be just friends with the woman whose kiss had liquefied her insides.

“You kiss all of your friends like that?”

She smiled. “Okay. You’re more than a friend.”

“I never would have imagined we would be in this position.”

“What position would you like us to be in?”

“All of sudden, I’m not having any trouble imagining you in any number of positions.” Evelyn groaned. “How is it possible that just saying that can feel strange and turn me on at the same time?”

“I know what you mean.” Her stomach flipped as she too conjured up pictures of exploring the attraction between them. But thinking this way about a woman she’d previously only thought of as a friend still felt foreign.

Evelyn eased away from her and scooted to the other end of the couch. “I can’t be rational about this while I’m touching you.” She rubbed her fingertips against her forehead and muttered, “Am I really considering doing this to Kendall?”

“You don’t have to.”

Evelyn looked up, her expression changing as if she hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. “Just ignore it.” She nodded slowly. “I’ve tried that and failed miserably at pretending I only have friendly feelings for you. And I don’t see it getting any easier.”

“Let’s take Kendall out of it for a minute. If we didn’t have our guilt to think about, what would you be saying about this situation?”

“There’s still our friendship to consider.”

“You don’t think we could be mature enough to retain it if things didn’t work out?”

Evelyn shook her head. “I don’t know. I think that’s just something people say. But do they really do it?”

“Eventually. Depending on the breakup, it may take some time and work.” She leaned forward and rested her hand on Evelyn’s knee. She wanted to respect her desire for distance while they talked, but now that they’d crossed a line, she found it even more difficult to be near her and not touch her. “If we are going to start something here, I don’t want to make the decision thinking about how it might end.”

“So we’re back to Kendall? She’ll be pissed.”

“No doubt. I’ll be straight with you, Ev. She and I don’t have a relationship right now. So if I’m only considering my stakes in this, it’s easier for me to be selfish and say I want you and I don’t care what she thinks. But I also know what her friendship has meant to you and yours to her, and it’s hard for me to be the one that comes between you.”

“I don’t want to hurt her either. And I don’t want to lose her. But this…” Evelyn covered her hand and heat arched from Melanie’s fingertips and up her arm. “God, I can’t explain it, you know?”

“I do.” Had this energy been lying dormant between them, needing only the right circumstances to come to life—needing both of them to be in the right place? “We could take it slow.”

“We could.” Evelyn’s warm eyes, full of hope and hazy with arousal, met hers. She bent her head and kissed her temple.

Melanie angled back, capturing her lips. Evelyn’s tongue slid against hers and the spark inside her flared into a dancing flame. Evelyn moved from her mouth to her neck, first kissing, then lightly sucking the sensitive skin there. Evelyn rose, supporting herself on her arms as she covered her body. She gave herself over to the blaze, basking in the lick of heat against her skin wherever Evelyn’s mouth touched her.

Immersed in the exquisite feel of combing her fingers through Evelyn’s silky hair, she allowed herself to tremble on the edge of losing control. She tested herself, sliding her palms under Evelyn’s shirt and over the curve of her sides. Dizzy with the sensation of Evelyn’s satin skin, she traced her fingertips up and into the dips between each of Evelyn’s ribs.

“Melanie.” Evelyn warned her.

“I know,”she murmured against her mouth. “Just a minute more, please.” She smoothed her hands to Evelyn’s back and pulled her down more tightly against her.

“God, Mel.” Evelyn groaned as their hips ground together.

She smiled. “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t the only one feeling this way.”

“If you mean horny and seconds away from forgetting about the shred of honor I’m clinging to,” Evelyn kissed her and rotated her hips slowly, “yes, we’re both there.”

When Evelyn eased back, Melanie sat up. Evelyn moved quickly to the other end of the sofa, putting some much-needed distance between them.

Evelyn pulled in a full breath, then said, “I don’t think we should sleep together until Kendall knows about us.”

“I don’t know how well you think you know me, but I’m not that easy. I don’t have sex on the first date.”

“Was this a date? And I took you to my parents’ house for dinner. I really know how to show a girl a good time, huh?”

Melanie laughed.

“It shouldn’t make any difference, but—”

“But it feels like less of a betrayal if we don’t have sex,” Melanie said.

“Well, yes.” She had no idea how she would tell Kendall. But she naively clung to the hope that their friendship would survive.

“And you’re still worried I’m going to change my mind about pursuing this.”

“A little.” These new feelings about Melanie were all wrapped up in their history together. She’d known Melanie for five years and cared so much about her already. But now, the old boundaries of their friendship were dissolving. Things with Melanie already felt so much more intimate than if she were getting to know someone new.

“I told you, you’re not a rebound.”

“Okay. But a lot has changed in the past few months, for both of us. There’s no reason to hurt her until we know what this is, right?”

“Okay. So—no sex until then.” Melanie rested her fingers against the side of her neck, and the feather-light touch sent a tingle along her skin.

“Yeah. That shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Well, we’ve known each other this long and never had sex, so what’s a little bit longer?” Melanie smiled.

“Right. But I can’t stay here tonight.” She stood and Melanie followed her to the door. They shared a lingering kiss, and when Melanie released her, she longed to stay after all. She could feel Melanie’s eyes on her as she walked away, but she forced herself to keep going.

The next time she slept in the same bed with Melanie, she wouldn’t have to resist touching her. She’d finally found someone who made her want to lose control and she’d just taken a vow of celibacy. Easy enough.

Chapter Fifteen

Evelyn nodded at the security guard as she passed through the metal detector at the entrance to the courthouse. She ignored the beeping alert of the machine and headed for the elevator. As the car rose, her stomach knotted more with each passing floor. She’d been dreading this case for weeks.

Eight months ago, she and Kendall had responded to a domestic-violence call. A man had brutally raped his estranged wife, then stabbed her six times. The 9-1-1 call came in from the couple’s eight-year-old daughter, who watched the whole thing through the slats in a closet door. Since that date, she had listened to the chilling phone call several times. The suspect could be heard ranting in the background, yelling at his fallen wife as if she could still hear him. Before the police arrived, he aimed a .22 caliber pistol at his own head and pulled the trigger. After a quick triage, the medics had left his deceased wife on the bedroom floor, scooped up the fatally wounded suspect, and rushed him to the hospital. Doctors saved his miserable life, and officers spent weeks guarding his hospital bed until he was well enough to be taken into custody and transported.

She later learned that the gun belonged to the wife, who had purchased it for her protection after she’d kicked her husband out. He’d forced his way into the house that night, and when she went for the gun, he took it from her.

When questioned by police, he said that he raped and stabbed her to teach her a lesson. He hadn’t intended for her to die. He also admitted during questioning that he knew his daughter was in the apartment. He said maybe she wouldn’t make the same mistakes that her mother had made. He later recanted the entire confession, saying the police had coerced him—a common, though trite, excuse.

Everything about this case made her sick to her stomach. Frankly, she’d been surprised to get a subpoena for it. She’d assumed he would take some type of plea.

The hallway leading to the courtroom was filled with people. The case had received a lot of attention, and several television stations were already setting up for remote broadcasts. The defendant’s family clustered in one corner to the right of the courtroom door. Some of them had to remain outside since they would be called to testify later. Along the other side of the hallway, the witnesses for the prosecution sat on a row of benches against the wall. She recognized a couple of the officers and the crime-scene tech.

Off to the side, District Attorney Sarah Wales talked quietly to the lead detective on the case. They’d all been part of a pre-trial conference last week so there would be no surprises in the prosecutor’s line of questioning. But with Evelyn’s father behind the defense table, everyone was a bit nervous about what trick he might try to pull out on his client’s behalf.

“Long time,” she said when Sarah looked up as she approached. The detective moved away to join the rest of the officers on the benches.

“Too long.” She winked and Evelyn felt the familiar flip of her stomach. Even incredibly straight women had this effect on her.

“While you’ve been out lounging about on maternity leave, I’ve been here at least once a week helping your colleagues lock up the bad guys,”she joked.

“Yeah, that’s what I was doing. Eating chocolate and getting massages while my infant daughter cared for herself.”

“I thought so.” She grinned. “Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re dying to whip out a picture, aren’t you?” She barely had the words out before Sarah had her phone in her hand, swiping her finger across the screen. When she turned the phone around, Evelyn gave the obligatory “awww.” The baby was gorgeous. With her mother’s ivory skin and a downy cap of matching red-gold hair, she was undoubtedly Sarah’s child. She’d been dressed in a cute little pink-and-white polka-dot outfit, and the photographer had managed to coax out a smile.

“She’s beautiful.”

“I know,” Sarah said, her eyes shining with motherly love. “It seems she’s got my quick temper, though.”