Free Falling Away by Devon Ashley Page A

hot breath slowly warmed my bottom lip. His lips were cold, like he’d been waiting too long in the chilly air. But they were also familiar, exactly like I remembered from the many nights I spent wrapped up within his loving arms. I caught the scent of musk and citrus and it warmed my insides, just like a shot of amaretto would, and my eyes closed as if suddenly too drunk and heavy to remain open.
                  But I still hadn’t pulled away, and I couldn’t get my head to figure out why, like I’d been hypnotized into staying put, or a sudden surge of pheromones exuding off his skin were doping me into submission. And my voice…well, the vocal no longer preceded the word chord.
                  Whatever the reason for my lack of fight, Evan took it as cooperation. My eyes reopened and immediately connected with his, and the longing hunger they screamed. Both hands covered my cheeks now, and he pulled me in the rest of the way, his lips more aggressive this time. They were still light and gentle, but needy, like he’d held it in so long he couldn’t stand it anymore, his moan signaling the release of pent up anguish within.
                  A whimper escaped my own mouth. If the relay was working between my brain and lips, then they refused to accept the command to stop, that this uninvited, unprovoked, horribly offensive… wonderful , beautiful , seductive sensation caused by his luscious lips was wrong.
                  I gasped as we were pushed violently apart, Robert’s screaming echoing in my stuffy ears, like an unforgiving game of ping pong between two champion competitors. “What the fuck?” But his attention was more on Evan, who he continued to shove backwards. Not wanting to engage – ‘cause we all knew he was guilty as hell right now – Evan’s hands were thrust up in surrender, but Robert shoved until Evan’s back hit flat against the brick wall.
                  “Wait. Stop!” I cried as I pulled on Robert’s arm, desperately trying to separate the two.
                  “Stop?” he mocked, his face glowering in disbelief. “You mean that action you couldn’t seem to do yourself a few seconds ago?” That threw me, ‘cause I knew he was dead on right, and I stuttered over a few incoherent syllables. He turned back to Evan, who still hadn’t moved, though his arms finally fell to his sides. “Tell me,” Robert demanded, “Did you know she had a boyfriend before you did that?”
                  Evan stared silently for a moment before answering coolly, “Sorry, mate.”
                  Oh, crap. I saw it coming but could do nothing to stop it. Robert’s fist connected with Evan’s jaw so hard his head spun around and crashed into the wall.
                  Robert stepped back, fuming. “Sorry, mate ,” he spat. “I knew punching you was morally wrong and all, but I still decided to try it anyway.”
                  Evan cradled his jaw and rotated back, his temple scratched and bloodied from kissing the brick.
                  “Oh my God,” I said, pushing past Robert to check Evan’s head, ignoring the endless stares of lookey-loos as they did nothing passing by, continuing on their way, as if this show happened at the top of every hour in this very spot. “Damn it, Robert. You’re rightfully pissed, but Evan’s had enough head trauma in his life.”
                  “Wait,” Robert said as Evan allowed me to dab the end of my scarf to soak up the blood that dripped down his cheek. “ This is the guy you went to see last month? Are you shitting me?”
                  I threw him a nasty glare. “So what? I thought we agreed I could be friends with anyone I chose.”
                  “Yeah. So long as he’s not trying to shove his tongue down your throat.” He moved in again, his eyes fixed hard on Evan,