Finding Chris Evans: The 9-1-1 Edition by Erin Nicholas Read Free Book Online Page A

against her temple and breathing in.
    “You like that smell?” she asked.
    “It’s quickly becoming my very favorite,” he told her.
    “That’s only fair,” she told him. “You smell like chocolate cake. Which is already my favorite.”
    “Yeah?”
    He lifted his hand and ran it over her hair. It was a sweet, intimate gesture, but it fired Britt’s blood.
    “Yeah,” she said breathlessly.
    He held up the hand that wasn’t touching her. His first two fingers were streaked with frosting. “So, when they’re painting, sometimes the kids touch you and get paint on you.”
    She nodded, wondering what he’d do if she leaned in and licked the frosting off his fingers. And then sucked on his fingers. And then sucked on other things.
    “I get the arm and maybe even your back if they were hugging you, but how did you get paint here?” he asked. He dipped those two fingers under the neckline of her shirt and dragged them over her skin slowly.
    Britt didn’t have to look down to know she now had a smear of chocolate just above the cup of her bra. She wet her lips. “I leave work with glitter in my hair, cotton candy in my pockets, silly string stuck to my pants… I don’t really have an idea how any of that gets there except to say that the Fun Zone is a little like The Hunger Games. We go to work and are essentially stuck there for several hours at a time. They turn on bright multicolored lights, and fun music, and let a bunch of little kids with endless energy loose on us. And to keep it interesting, they give them sugar. Lots of sugar. We just do whatever it takes to make it out alive at the end,” she told him.
    Chris looked into her eyes, his fingers still against her chest. She was sure he could feel how hard her heart was beating. She hoped he knew it was all because of him.
    “It’s funny,” he said. “There are no bright lights or music or games here and I’m feeling very excited.”
    She grinned up at him. “Must be the sugar in the frosting.”
    “Maybe.” Then he dipped his head and stroked his tongue over her skin, licking up the frosting.
    Britt held her breath, her heart hammering, feeling dizzy suddenly.
    He straightened and smacked his lips together. “Nope. Not the sugar. It’s all you.”
    She stared at him for a moment as it hit her—they weren’t making it out of this kitchen with all of their clothes on. Or maybe at all.
    “You’re sure about that?” she asked. “Let’s see.” She reached to the frosting bowl and scooped up a finger full with her good hand and then spread it down the side of his neck. She leaned in and licked the stripe of chocolate from his skin with a long, slow drag of her tongue.
    He groaned softly and his hand tightened on her hip.
    Then she tipped his head the other direction and licked up the side of his neck without the frosting. “You’re right,” she said breathlessly. “It’s not the frosting.”
    Chris turned his head, his mouth hovering over hers. “It’s not,” he agreed. “But I still want to spread it all over your body.”
    Their gazes met, then as if communicating telepathically, they both leaned back and began taking their clothes off. She was slower, only able to really use one hand to grip and pull, and had only gotten her shirt off by the time Chris tossed his shirt and pants away. He quickly went to work unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, pulling them down her legs and throwing them over his shoulder. His eyes darkened as he looked at her in only her panties.
    His gaze was hungry on her breasts and he lifted both hands to cup the mounds, playing with her nipples, making her moan and squirm.
    “Damn, I like those sounds,” he told her. Then he dipped a finger into the frosting bowl and painted the chocolate over her nipples.
    This was awesome. Britt said as much out loud. He looked up with a grin.
    “And we’re just getting started.”
    He scooped her up from the chair, depositing her on the countertop. He stepped between