Ethan

Lips that taste this good should be forbidden. We leave the water behind, and I wrap her in a towel. Standing in the middle of the bathroom, she shivers, so I kiss her until she’s heated and a sinful pink creeps over her chest. Her body gives her mind away. Wicked words from her mouth may elude me but her body exposes her lustful thoughts. I scoop her up to a delighted squeal and carry her into the bedroom.

Just before I set her down, I ask, “What do you want, Singer?”

“What do you want?” She bites her lip and waits as if I’d ever turn her away.

“You.”

She kisses me, but I have plans, plans that involve her body molding to mine as we fuck. I kiss her quick, eager to get to the action by tossing her on the bed and capturing her towel.

“Ethan?” Her protest leads to laughter as she lands.

She is naked before me, and the game I was playing no longer interests me. She does. My muscles tense. My cock hardens. My heart clenches as my gaze roams her body. In awe of her beauty, my body stills as I stare. She’s my Aphrodite. Goddess of Beauty. “All’s fair,” I mumble, trying to pretend she doesn’t affect me like she does—deep down to my core.

I strip my towel from my waist and turn to toss both behind me.

“I like the view.” She slinks under the covers, shyness with a bold smile on her face.

I don’t stare, though seeing a flash of her naked body makes me want more. “Touché, Ms. Davis.”

“Will you get in bed with me?”

Her need to hide away bothers me. Does she really not know how stunning she is? How is that possible? How is she even single? She’s witty and clever, gorgeous and perceptive. Her body is killer. Her eyes captivate my soul.

When I climb into bed, we lie there, sticking to our sides. Glancing over, Singer’s gaze reaches the window and she stares out into the inky night. The room is dark, the windows of the skyscrapers outside lit up like little stars. When she turns back, a small smile appears.

This is what I’ve been missing. I knew it a year ago and ignored this deep desire. Now it courses through my veins. She courses through my soul. I care. I care about this woman. It threatens the firm foundation of my usually steady life, but I welcome it. I welcome the change. Before I lose myself in a confessional of commitments I shouldn’t make to this beauty, I ask, “Do you like strawberries?”

“I do. I also like pretzels,” she says, reaching to the nightstand where I had left a bag from my earlier excursion to the kitchen. “You don’t mind crumbs, do you?”

“I do,” I say, getting up to grab the champagne from the bathroom. “But not from you. Pretzel away.”

She crunches, and I would normally cringe, but when I return she’s so cute eating them I can’t be mad. After sipping the champagne I hand her, she asks, “Why did you bring me here, Ethan? To champs and pretzels, to show off your fancy-schmancy tub and apartment? Or maybe”—she leans forward when I sit and taps the end of my nose—“you have something more scandalous in mind?”

“I have enough scandal in my life. How about I go with the other options?” Settling against the headboard, silence surrounds us. She discards the bag and turns to me, her fingers touching my chest as if she does it all the time.

A strange emotion fills my chest from seeing her in my bed. I’ve imagined her here so many times, but it all pales to actually having her here. Her presence lights up the whole room. Possessive. That’s how I feel, and it’s something I’ve not been allowed to act on until now.

Sliding down, I maneuver my arm under her. Her body molds to mine, her arm over my stomach, and one of her legs draped over mine. Whispering, she asks, “What are we doing?”

“Such a loaded question.” I run my fingers over the smooth skin of her back.

“I like this.”

“This?”

“All of it. Tonight. You. You being here.”

The tips of her fingers stroke my neck and higher until her palm warms my cheek. “I like being here. I like this with you.” Checking the time over my shoulder, she says, “It’s almost eleven.”

“Are you tired?”

“I usually go to bed around this time.” Looking up at me, she smiles. There’s no fear in her eyes, no hesitation to be found. There’s nothing but a green light for go.

Running my hand over her hip, I marvel how the very act is more intimate because she’s trusting. She’s so trusting with me, in me.

“We haven’t eaten a strawberry, and you went all the way across the palace grounds to get them. That was quite a trek to set this all up.”

“Very funny.” I chuckle, but quickly grab hold of her hand and roll on top of her. I wiggle, and her legs part for me, allowing me to settle between them. My hard against her soft. Kissing her quick, I say, “I think you’re right. I think we should eat strawberries.”

I reach for one as I hover over her. When I turn back, my breath escapes in a harsh release. She stuns me in this moment, her beauty wrapping me up in twisted feelings that started in my gut and have taken my heart hostage. This isn’t as casual as I’ve led her to believe. This means something, more than I kidded myself to believe. But tonight feels too good. She feels so good. I take a risk that feels like a dare, daring myself to take what I want.

I’ve been with women, plenty of them, but Singer is . . . she’s different and there’s no denying this means so much more than a quick fuck or a one-night stand. Nicolina thinks I love her. Do I?

Exhaling slowly, I know I need to get out of my head and back to what’s right in front of me instead of thinking through everything. Touching the berry to her skin, she sucks in a breath. I smile, and in a low voice I remind her, “Breathe, Singer.”

Her nipples are pert under the sheet, causing my breath to match hers. Why am I nervous? I’m never nervous. I’m always in control. I am in control now. I blow across her skin where the juice glistens. The strawberry moves slick, dipping in and following the contours of her collarbone. My eyes meet hers before I lower and touch my tongue to her, licking the sweetness from her skin.

Her hips move against my cock, and I press right back. I want to sink inside her, forgetting who I am and the life I’ve created. I want a redo with this woman. I deserve it, just like I deserve the truth to unchain me.

I’ve lost touch with that guy Singer met a year ago. The one who knew who he was and where his life was going, the one who saw a beautiful and intriguing woman and tried to kiss her on a fire escape. But when she looks at me, I see him reflected in her eyes. I can almost feel him inside me under her gaze. She makes me want to be that man for her. God, I want be that man for her.

I want to be that man again for me.

The taste of her skin is sticky sweet, and intoxicating, a flavor that will linger long after she’s gone. I toss the strawberry back into the bowl and start to devour her instead. I’d love to give her slow and steady, but not this time. Not possible the first time with this woman.

The woman tempts my body to do dirty things. My soul gravitates to her blind trust in me. The press openly talks about the bad boy I’m supposed to be, and her shy, vulnerable side definitely attracts that side. With Singer, I want to take what I want instead of asking. She brings out the devil in me.

Taking a deliciously pink nipple between my lips, I move my hand to the curve of her waist. My middle moves against her, her legs widening for me in a welcoming embrace. I’m so close to fucking her, even though I know I shouldn’t. I know she shouldn’t be here at all.

Lust.

Easy.

Betrayal.

My demise.

I close my eyes, squeezing them tight.

Fuck the past.

Focus on the present.

Nails graze against my scalp, and fingers caress my jaw, lifting it up. Looking up, even in the low light of the room, her eyes make me want to be everything for her. “Be here, Ethan. Stay right here with me.” How does she know I need those words to bring me back?

She sees through me.

I think she always did.

Moving higher, I keep my body against hers and brush my fingertips over her cheek before kissing those red lips. Lowering my hand, I rub the inside of her thigh. Goose bumps rise under my fingers, her reactions an aphrodisiac, feeding my cravings for her.

Magnificence.

Acceptance.

Truth.

My beauty.

“I want to make you feel so good. I want you to feel how you make me feel.”

She smiles, her finger tracing my upper lip. “I do. Look at me. Really look at me. I’m here. The quiet that steals your thoughts and causes you to shut down on me, I need you to fight it. I don’t want to feel doubts when I’m with you, so I need to know I don’t cause them.”

“You don’t. You make them better. When I’m with you, it’s easier to believe there’s still good in the world.” She kisses me. Her hands are strong, wrapped around my shoulders, and they bring me back against her. With my fingers finding that sweet spot between her legs, I watch as her mouth opens, and a desire to fill it emerges.

The way she moves beneath me, the soft mewls, and her fingers pressing into my skin, I know she’s already close, but I need more, more of everything with this stunning creature. I lean down to take her breath and make it mine. “I want you so bad.”

“Then take me, Ethan.” Her breath comes hard, her words punctuated on the tip.

I’ve always prided myself on self-control but my limits are shredded. I rest my forehead on her shoulder and enter her softness with two fingers, her warmth spreading through my body. My hips move, trying to push my release forth. My fingers fuck, and mewls become moans, a siren’s call that sings to my core.

I need her to find that place that gives her mind peace and makes her body mine, so I watch her reactions, and feed her frenzy. I kiss her again and deeper, using my tongue to taste her orgasm just as she peaks. When I release her lips, my name tumbles off her tongue, and I’m locked in a tight embrace.

“I want you so much,” she says, her words pulsing through like her pussy is around my fingers.

Reaching over, I pull the drawer open and grab a condom. I hate to ruin the moment, so I’m fast. Once covered, I’m over her and positioned. Wild eyes beg for more, and I lean down to kiss her as I push in. My head drops down as her heat envelops me, searing me, easing my soul from the daily burdens. My mind focuses on her—pinpointing every gyrate that elicits a moan, every scrape of her nails that urges me on. “You feel . . . you’re amazing, Singer.”

I want to fuck. I want to thrust and pound.

Restrain. I keep the reminder on a loop as I make love to her slowly. She deserves love. It’s easy to get lost in this woman with her intrigue and smiles. Her honesty and innocence. Her body moves with mine and then urges me for more. I give in and move on instinct to feel—God, she feels so good.

Hands roam freely over my back and squeeze my ass. I push up higher and thrust while watching her. When she opens her eyes, a sly smile rolls across her lips, and she murmurs, “I want more.”

I fuck her with my mind and my body, my soul bonding to her angelic being. I fuck and I fuck until she’s crying my name in completion, as if another name will never be uttered from her lips. I fuck until I lose this world and live in hers, the blackness full of stars. I reach out until I grab hold of hope again, falling back to reality.

“Ethan?”

Opening my eyes, hers are already trained on me. “Yeah?”

The palm of her hand presses to my cheek, and she says, “You feel so good.”

Staring into the sun has a way of making you look inward. Her light of blinding purity penetrates the icy walls I constructed to protect my heart, and they begin to melt at her feet. Stealing one more glance, I now see. I see how she so easily accepts me. The gold flecks in her eyes shine in the dark, just like her sincerity. I tilt my head down and kiss her shoulder. “You’ve made me believe again.”

Her nails gently scrape through the hair behind my ears. If I weren’t so caught up in awakening emotions, it would tickle.

“Believe in what?” she whispers.

“In living this life to the fullest. You gave that to me.”

A gentle giggle lifts from the lips and the sweetest pink threatens to cover the light freckles on her cheeks. “That sounds like a heavenly experience.”

“It was.” My heart thuds against my chest and I wonder if she can feel it. I discard the condom quickly and pull her close until she’s tucked against me. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to let you go come sunrise.”

Squirming around until she’s comfy, she takes a deep breath and exhales, her body free from tension. “That’s okay,” she replies sleepily. “We can sleep long past sunrise. Tomorrow is Saturday.”

I’m fading fast, peace washing over me as my eyelids grow heavy. “Good point, Singer Davis.”

A sweet little kiss is pressed to my chest, her voice growing in distance. “Good night, Ethan Everest.”