Sweet Talk (COMPLETE)

11 - My Fault

When Evan got home that evening, I was already there. He found me in the kitchen and hugged me from behind as I finished stirring the pasta.

His muscular arms and the smell of his mouth-watering cologne enveloped me, and I closed my eyes. Inhaling, relaxing against him. "How was your day?"

"Better now." He rested his chin on my shoulder. "I like coming home to this."

I peeked up at him with a smile. "What? Food that's almost ready to eat?"

"No." He chuckled. "You, here, waiting for me." His lips tickled my neck, making me shiver. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." I tilted my head, wanting more, and he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses up to my ear.

"These tiny shorts make your legs look so long." His warm palms slid down my body, and one slipped between my thighs to cup my pussy. "I can't wait to have them around my waist while I fuck this tight little cunt."

I moaned as he sucked my earlobe, then whispered, "I've been thinking about it all day."

"Me too." My breathy voice was hardly a sound.

I felt him smile against my cheek. "Did you think about this morning?"

"Umm hmm." I nodded as his finger moved under the leg of my shorts and traced the elastic of my panties.

"I love when you ride my face. The noises you make." Evan hooked the material, pulling it out of the way, and rubbed my wet clit. A rough sound rumbled in his chest. "That's my baby doll, always ready for me."

Tingles filled my core and my nipples pebbled, begging for more of his touch, but I stopped his hand. "Wait. Not yet," I whimpered. "I have too many fires going."

"Are you sure?" He pressed two fingers inside and I cried out as his palm pressed my clit. "I could bend you over the counter and make you come before dinner has time to burn."

"Oh, fuck." I moaned, but shook my head. "No, wait. Ah!" I couldn't stop myself from rocking against his hand. "I wanted to make you a nice dinner. I worked so hard."

"Okay." He took his hand away, and I frowned at the loss. He patted my ass, and stepped back, sucking his fingers clean. "But that sweet cunt is dessert."

I reached up on my toes to lick and nibble his bottom lip. "Sounds perfect."

I straightened my clothes and worked to slow my breathing. He smirked and leaned on the counter to steal a noodle from the pot.

"That's hot!"

He shrugged and popped it into his mouth. "It's good."

"Thanks." I beamed. Cooking wasn't my thing, so I was glad to hear it.

"I thought you were coming over later?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Yeah. I hope you don't mind. I used the key you hid on the porch."

"I'm glad. You just rarely get here before me."

I blew out a slow breath. "Michelle and I had a little argument at work, and I just wanted to get out of the apartment. I think we fixed it, but I was still thinking maybe I'd stay here for a couple days, if that's alright?" Biting my lip, I peered at him over my shoulder.

"Of course. You don't have to ask. You know I always want you here."

Warmth spread through my chest. "Thanks." I gave him a quick kiss before turning back to the stove. The pasta was ready, the chicken had a few minutes to go, and broccoli was steaming. I smiled at the first real meal I'd handled all on my own.

"What were you two arguing about?" he asked and I sighed.

There was no way to sugarcoat it, and I wouldn't lie to him. "She gave me attitude about my shirt, but it's not a big deal."

"Big enough to fight over it, apparently."

"Well, it wasn't just the shirt." I stepped back from the stove to pull my hair up in a ponytail. "There's been this weirdness between us lately, and other stuff got brought up. But we talked for a minute at the apartment, and I think we both feel better."

"What other stuff? Me?" His brow furrowed, and I hated that I'd ruined the playful mood he'd come home with.

"No. She was mostly upset that I missed my last few classes."

I took the lid off the broccoli, and it was bright and pretty. I left it on the stove to search for a serving bowl.

After a second, I realized Evan wasn't saying anything. I looked over, surprised to find him glaring at the floor. "What's wrong?"

He lifted himself up to sit on the counter. "How does she know you missed classes? I thought Jake was the one that went to school?"

"He is." I squatted to dig through the lower cabinet. "When we argued at work, he mentioned he hadn't seen me there, so he knew I wasn't going."

Evan shook his head. "You didn't say anything about him. He was giving you attitude too?"

Something twisted in my stomach. I'd upset him, but I wasn't sure how. "Mostly Michelle. Jake just threw school in, and Michelle got angrier, and then I got angry—"

"Stop." He slid to his feet. "Jake's mad because you haven't been hanging out with him at school?"

"No. We don't even have the same classes. We're just there at the same time and usually pass each other on campus."

He scoffed. "Why are your classes any of their business?"

"They just know it's important to me, and Michelle wanted to know why I wasn't going. I told her it wasn't a big deal. You were off, and I wanted to spend time with you." I shrugged, thinking the explanation would make him feel better.

"So it's my fault," he yelled, and I jumped, dropping the serving bowl. "First, I'm keeping you from your friends. Now I'm keeping you from school."

I'd never heard him raise his voice or seen him angry. Bile rose in my throat, knowing I caused it.

"I guess I'm just ruining your life."

My mouth fell open. "What? I never said that. Why are you so upset?"

"I'm tired of hearing how much more your friends care about you than me."

"That's not what I said. I—"

"I don't want to hear it!" He waved his arm, hitting the pot handle as he stomped from the kitchen. The pot flipped off the stove, and I shrieked as some of it splashed on me. He didn't look back, and then the front door slammed.

Broccoli and hot water puddled on the floor and dripped from my arm. Thankfully, it had a minute to cool from boiling before it landed on my skin.

I rushed to the sink and held my forearm under the cold running water. Several minutes later, the stinging lessened. Shutting off the faucet, I turned to survey the mess—a wet floor and ruined broccoli.

My eyes burned as I leaned against the counter and inhaled a shaky breath. How did our night get here?

I turned my arm, scanning the reddened skin. It was an accident. It wasn't like he threw the pot at me. He probably didn't even realize what happened. Evan never would've left if he knew I was hurt.

Accidents happen, right? 😬
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