As lovely as Ethan thought Harper was in her prim pencil skirt and button up - as alluring as she was with all that blonde hair flowing down around her shoulders and that defiant smile - this was what he’d wanted most of all.

Her beneath him, completely taken by the pleasure he’d given her.

She was completely gorgeous with her hair mussed and those lovely gray eyes completely vacant - even more beautiful than he’d imagined.

Ethan barely managed to keep from collapsing against her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come so hard. Chock it up to the weeks he’d remained celibate, perhaps, or all the fantasizing he’d done, but being with Harper Jones was, without a doubt, the most erotic experience of his life.

Though his body was fatigued, just lying against her like this was enough to make him want her again. And again. With a low sound of satisfaction, he raised his head to gaze down at her once more. She seemed to be coming back to herself - tugging at his grip on her wrists as she came down from her orgasmic high. “Dear Lord, let me go. I’m going to cramp up again…” she sighed, her eyes fluttering closed.

She had a big mouth - and she’d fought him all the way. But, somehow, instead of irking him, Ethan found it endearing. Harper was as stubborn in bed as she was out of it... it made him want to break her. To make her come until she was nothing but a babbling mess in his arms, all those sensibilities of hers gone…

But this had been hard enough.

With extreme reluctance, Ethan released her, rolling from her and onto his side to prop his head up on a hand. “You need another massage?” At the memory of how he’d eased her taut muscles back into a relaxed state after tasting her, his hands itched to touch her again.

“God, no.” Harper rolled her eyes, but she was unable to help the sexy little smile that played around the edges of her mouth. “I know better than that.” Exhaling a long breath, she rolled onto her stomach, letting her eyes drift closed once more.

In the moonlight streaming in from the window, she could have been a fucking goddess - all tanned skin, golden hair, and decadent curves. Ethan swallowed thickly as he felt his body starting to respond. Fuck.

“Do you have a drink?” she finally mused.

Ethan tore his gaze from her kiss-swollen lips. “Whiskey or bourbon?”

“Yeah.”

He rose from the bed with no heed to his own nakedness. He felt her eyes on him all the way from the bedroom and couldn’t help the thrill of masculine pride that rose in him. It was apparent that he wasn’t the only one thinking dirty thoughts.

Ethan would pay a king’s ransom to know what Harper was thinking at that moment - exhausted from their intimacy, watching him like a hawk. He made his way to the kitchen to pour two glasses of straight bourbon before returning to the bedroom.

She was already up.

Harper found her underwear and stood before the floor to ceiling windows, gazing out over the city. She was a fucking vision in black lingerie and Ethan clutched one of the glasses almost hard enough to crack it.

Goddamn it. If he thought that having her once would be enough to get her out of his system, Ethan was dead wrong. Somehow, he forced himself to cross the room and hand her the drink. Harper took it, glancing down at his already renewed erection before smirking. “Down, boy.”

Christ.

She drained half her bourbon in one swallow before sighing in satisfaction. “Nice view.”

Ethan’s lips quirked. “Me or the city?”

Harper tossed a cheeky glance in his direction. “You need to put some clothes on before a picture of your goods ends up in the National Enquirer.”

Ethan took a sip of his own drink before he set it aside. He stepped up behind Harper, aligning his body with hers to press against her from behind. “But I’m not done with you yet.” Ethan wasn’t sure his hunger for this woman would ever be assuaged. There was just something about her - that stubborn tilt of her chin, the way she always had to be right... She got under his skin in a way no woman ever had.

He expected Harper to melt back into him - to give herself to him again. He could very contentedly spend the whole night memorizing every inch of her. But instead, the blonde woman merely turned to him, her expression suddenly cool. “Oh, yes you are.”

Ethan arched a brow, flummoxed by this sudden change of tone. “Is that so?”

“You got what you wanted, Ethan.” Harper handed him her glass, strutting past him to find her skirt and tug it up long legs. “So now you’re going to give me what I want.”

“And what is that?” He watched, transfixed, as her slender fingers worked at the buttons of her top.

“You’re going to seriously look at the matches I’ve come up with for you.”

Harper could only have surprised him more if she’d dumped her drink over his head. Matches. She wanted to talk about matches. Right now? After they’d just fucked each other blind? For a split second, he thought she might be joking, but then the blonde was extending the folder she’d offered him during dinner once more, his expression is all business. “Now that you’re less distracted, maybe you can take this a little more seriously.”

His first impulse was to toss the folder aside - but one look into her stern grey eyes and Ethan knew that would be the last he saw of her. She was right - he had gotten what he wanted; but it hadn’t turned out as he’d expected. Not at all. How the hell was he supposed to consider a bevy of other women when his mind was full of her? It was fucking impossible.

But he couldn’t let her know that. “Fine.”

Taking the folder, Ethan made a show of flipping through the contents. “I’ll take a look and let you know if I find anyone who meets my standards.”

Harper’s satisfied smile heated him and infuriated him all at once. “I appreciate it. I’ll come up with a few other candidates in the meantime. You can call me if you have any questions.”

She was leaving. After all that.

Harper hoisted her bag over her shoulder before glancing back at him. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Ethan.”

He watched, half-longing, half in disbelief as she sashayed her way from his bedroom and down the hall. When the elevator dinged a moment later, the sound was finally enough to jolt him from his reverie.

Still naked, Ethan stalked across the room to his dresser to toss the folder down in disgust. “Fuck.” He raked both hands through his hair, trying to decide what the hell had just happened. He’d been under the impression that she would stay the night - that the sex had been so goddamned explosive that neither of them could resist.

But Harper was more business-minded than he thought. She was cold and calculating - so wily that he had to admire her, even as he cursed her guile.

He drank the rest of his bourbon before pouring himself another drink. Even if he didn’t know why, Ethan was pissed. In his all of his days of womanizing, a girl had never walked out on him like Harper did. When he could still smell her, taste her... feel her.

Christ, he was going soft.

With a bitter smile, he drained his second drink before stalking, still naked, towards the shower. Why the hell was he upset? Six months prior, he would have been happy she wasn’t trying to cling to him. He wouldn’t have given two shits that she’d shown herself out.

But here, now, Ethan cared. And the feeling was unsettling as hell.

**

Harper was up all night, torn between a strange elation and self-castigation.

What the hell had she been thinking? She’d let Ethan Kensley sweet talk her out of her clothes - she was no better than any of the hundreds of women who’d fallen prey to his charm over the years.

Though she’d handled things as admirably as she could - holding her head high and strutting out on her terms - she still felt as if she’d broken her own rules. She had broken her own rules. Her job was to bring people together, not to sleep with the men looking for their perfect wives. Atop that, Ethan Kensley was the most profitable client she’d ever landed. She hadn’t given a single thought about her job when he’d had his head between her thighs, or when he’d been screwing her utterly senseless.

Since her childhood, Harper had sworn that she’d always look after herself first and foremost - she and her sister. When her parents had been screaming and fighting with one another, she promised herself that she would never feel vulnerable again. She would stand on her own and master her own destiny.

Ethan Kensley made her feel vulnerable - and it scared her.

He had done exactly as he’d promised - taken away her control. And Harper had liked it.

Liked was an understatement. She loved it. The memory alone was enough to make her want to prostrate herself at his feet and beg for a repeat performance. But she knew better than that. Continuing to sleep with Ethan would mean losing him as a client, and she certainly couldn’t have that. Not before she’d successfully matched him.

He was a challenge - and she thrived off challenges. She ate them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

...But when it came to matching Ethan Kensley, her heart was hardly in the job. She had to be losing her mind. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. She could use her methodologies to prove to everyone that even the world’s biggest playboy could be brought to heel.

...Even if she’d already slept with him.

Ultimately, Harper had to make peace with herself. She lay in bed, alone, at three in the morning, and spoke three final words: “It doesn’t matter.”

So, they’d had sex. Sex was a purely carnal act - an animalistic sharing of two bodies. Now that they’d gotten it out of the way, maybe she’d be better able to concentrate. God knew she didn’t have to wonder how proficient a lover Ethan was anymore. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the man was a mind-blowing lover.

One Harper promised herself that she would never indulge again.

Even as the thought comforted her, it incited a strange pang of regret. Harper thought to balm it by rolling over and forcing herself to sleep. Things would be better in the morning - when she had some rest and a few hours’ departure. Everything would be a hell of a lot clearer...and her night with Ethan Kensley would be just a distant memory.

**

Harper couldn’t stop staring at her phone. She was supposed to be working - on both Ethan and another man she had a meeting with later that afternoon but her attention kept drifting back to her phone.

She wasn’t expecting a call, so she might as well throw the damn thing in a drawer and forget about it.

But what if he called and she missed it? What if he called to tell her he had already chosen one of the women she’d matched him with and he wanted to meet her?

The notion was enough to make Harper stiffen as she clutched the edge of her desk. Introducing another woman to Ethan Kensley...if they hit it off, that would mean a big paycheck for her, and notoriety beyond measure.

...and imagining him doing all those sinful things to another woman.

But that was no business of hers, was it? There had been plenty of women before her, and there would be plenty after, she was sure. If Ethan wanted to screw his way through half the country, it was none of her affair.

She didn’t even like him.

How could she like a blatant womanizer like him? He might very well respect women, but heaven help any female who had her heart set on Ethan Kensley. They were on a one-way road to heartbreak.

It had to be, Harper reasoned, that he was just exceptionally good in bed. Good enough to change her warped perception of the way she thought sex was supposed to go: Drunk man seduces woman, falls on top of her, grunts his satisfaction and then they part ways. Ethan was so totally and completely devoted to his partner’s pleasure...well, it was no wonder she could think of little else.

Before Ethan, Harper hadn’t even known she could come more than once in one session.

Setting her pen down, the blonde exhaled a long breath. This line of thought wasn’t conducive to her work at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. She was quickly growing uncomfortable between the legs as her mind clouded with lust.

She needed a break. Some air would do her good.

Before she could change her mind, Harper grabbed her jacket and her wallet and took the elevator to the first floor. Her office was in the building of a huge conglomerate, so she always drew stares as the only one not dressed in a dowdy suit.

As she stepped out into the sunshine, Harper breathed a sigh of relief. Yes. This was just what the doctor ordered. Time to forget about the complications of men and women for a while and have a leisurely lunch.

At least, that had been her plan.

Harper had just settled down at one of her favorite restaurants when her phone rang. She scrabbled for it immediately - but it wasn’t Ethan.

“Hey Harp.” Athena’s enthusiastic hello immediately soothed her nerves. It was strange how quickly her sister could put her at ease – even from thousands of miles away. Harper found, in that moment, that she missed the younger woman profusely. “How’s things?”

“Great,” Harper lied much more easily than her sister. “What far-flung corner of the world are you visiting today?”

“Still in Japan,” Athena replied with a laugh. “We’ve been here for a while. It’s an amazing country and Shiro’s like a walking encyclopedia. There’s so much to do and see.”

Shiro?

For a moment, Harper glared at the phone. Since when was Athena calling her boss by nicknames? She felt a thread of anger and suspicion rising in her and had to force herself to take a deep, calming breath. She had to talk to Athena. Make her realize the dangerous path she was walking.

Her own issues with Ethan were forgotten in favor of her protective instincts. “So,” she adopted the most casual tone she could, considering the circumstances. “It’s Shiro now, is it?”

Athena paused, and it was evident she realized she’d slipped up. “Harper, it’s...it’s not like that.”

Her voice was so guilty that the phone almost went up in flames. “What’s it like then, Thee? Do tell.”

Athena immediately floundered. She had always suffered from the virtue of complete honesty. When they were younger, Harper often had to lie to their parents for her. Athena’s poker face wouldn’t have fooled a blind man. “Harper, you know you don’t have to baby me. I’m a grown woman.”

“A grown woman who’s sleeping with her boss,” Harper hissed lowly. “And that boss is a Kensley! Athena, I’m only trying to look out for you! You know better than to mix business and pleasure!”

“Harper,” her sister groaned in exasperation, “I can make my own decisions.”

“Clearly not,” Harper rebutted. “You’re lucky I don’t come over there and get you!”

“For the love of God, Harper. Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean I have to be.”

Harper’s mouth snapped shut as her stomach twisted harshly. She swallowed thickly, her response faltering.

“Oh...Harp…” Athena’s tone was immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean it.”

But that was just it. Athena had never said something she didn’t mean - that was who she was.

Harper forced a smile, taking a big sip of the wine she’d ordered. “I know you didn’t, Thee. It’s fine. I... I don’t mean to get on your case. You know I just worry about you.”

“I know,” Athena returned softly. “I wish you’d redirect some of that energy towards yourself.”

**

Harper almost always came away from a conversation with Athena with a smile on her face and spring in her step. When she hung up with her sister this time, however, she found that she could barely touch the food she’d ordered.

Did Athena really think she was miserable? What the hell would have given her that impression. Harper was happy. With her life, her profession, her apartment... everything except Ethan fucking Kensley.

She decided to take her food to go, returning to her office in a decidedly somber mood. This was turning out to be one of the longest days in recent memory. Her concentration was shot, her baby sister was being victimized half a world away... what more could possibly go wrong?

She supposed she shouldn’t have asked.

When she returned home at the end of the day, Harper found her apartment under half an inch of water. One of the pipes in the ceiling had burst, and she landlord wouldn’t be able to call a plumber until the next day. Thankfully, Gary was more than happy to let her crash at his place.

His apartment was a tiny, bohemian studio in Soho, but his couch was comfy and Gary made a mean pot of chili. He told Harper to make free use of the bathroom when she got up - he would sleep in until an evening audition. 

But Harper didn’t go to sleep right away. Instead, she pulled out her laptop and tried to get some of the work that she’d neglected during the day done. First, she worked on her extra client. She had rescheduled the meeting she was supposed to have with the man for the next day - luckily, she had already come up with most of his matches. He was very much her typical clientele - a middle aged millionaire in search of a wife half his age to waste his money on. There were at least six women lined up to meet him - that one would go off without a hitch.

But then she had to turn her attention back to Ethan.

For a long while, Harper stared at the screen. His profile picture was one of the many covers she’d found him on, and, in hindsight, she realized that she didn’t really like the way he looked in it. Too buttoned up - the starched and perfect accountant extraordinaire.

She much preferred him naked and relaxed after he’d been in her…

A low sound of frustration escaped her and Harper forced herself to go through the information he’d given her for the umpteenth time. There had to be something here - something she was missing. No one was unmatchable - not even Ethan Kensley.

Chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully, Harper scanned the information before glancing at the picture again. That goddamn charming smile...the man was a demon. He should look the part.

With a long exhalation, she leaned back against the couch. Harper’s fingers lingered over the keys. Errantly, she began to enter information into her compatibility generator. Age, height, weight, likes and dislikes... it wasn’t until she was almost finished that she fully registered that the values she input were her own. Why she even bothered was beyond her. Just for shits and giggles, she’d entered her own statistics into the system numerous times, and each and every time, she got absolutely nothing. She often used the results as proof that she was happy just the way she was, enjoying the way her sister scoffed.

Harper jabbed the Enter button, waiting the precursory minute or so while the system calculated. Usually, when she input someone’s data, the system she created would spit out as many as twenty people that might be compatible with the original values. From there, it was up to Harper to narrow down the search using her own wits and experience. The program, after all, was only a faster extension of herself.

This time, her search turned up only one match.

Harper stared at the screen until her eyes hurt and the information didn’t change. According to the system that she created, she was a ninety-four percent match with Ethan Kensley.

The blonde was jogged from her discovery when her phone buzzed. Frowning, she reached for it, wondering who the hell could be messaging her so late.

It was him.

Looked through your matches. Close but no cigar. Next Friday?

How could those few words make her both angry and lustful all at once? The man was clearly spitting in the face of her profession. Harper would be surprised if he’d even read any of what she gave him. Ethan was just goading her, and if she knew what was good for her, she wouldn’t rise to his infantile teasing.

She messaged him back.

Make it two Fridays. I’ll need to pull out the big guns.

Once she’d answered, she turned her phone off and put it away. She needed to sleep. The only way she’d be able to make the most profitable match of her career was if she was well rested - and if she forgot the way Ethan made her squirm.

**

Ethan spent the majority of the week in meetings with his father about a huge budget overhaul. After looking at the design of the LA building - courtesy of futuristic architect Charlotte Gardner, the old man had grand plans to redo half their major headquarters around the world.

He could hardly imagine how Vlad would react when he found out. He was already losing his mind over the changes he faced in LA - and it didn’t help that he and the architect were at each other’s throats.

Ultimately, Ethan ended up sending his father home. Jackson was looking more and more tired these days. His son imagined it was the prospect of permanently handing the reins over to Vlad. As much faith as Jackson had in his son, it had to be hard to give it all up. But he’d worked sixty-hour weeks for most of his life. It was time he had a rest.

“I’m not tired.” His father wouldn’t have been his father if he didn’t fight him. He could be an ornery old codger when he wanted to, and Ethan ushered him firmly into the waiting car at the curb Friday evening. “I can still work circles around you, boy.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Dad, you’re obviously delirious. The last thing I need is to deal with both Vlad and you. Now, go home and get some rest.”

Jackson might have acted upset, but there was gratitude in his eyes. He was one of the strongest men Ethan knew, but no one could escape father time. His father was beginning to show his age, though he would never admit it. “Fine. Fine. You should come up to the manor this weekend. Your mother would love to see you. And you can tell us all how that meeting with the matchmaker went.”

Ethan hid a wince of discomfort. Shit. He forgot that he’d told his father about that. Now he would have to make up some excuse to avoid divulging the whole sordid story.

Not that there was that much to tell. “Sure, Dad.”

Once the car was gone, Ethan frowned.

He’d done pretty well to keep from thinking about Harper for most of the day, but, of course, his father’s interrogation brought everything surging back.

Another whole week until he saw her again. Ethan was pretty sure that by that time he would have jacked himself raw. Every time he went to bed he remembered what it had been like to have Harper beside him - underneath him - and it drove him absolutely insane.

Even though he’d changed his sheets, he could still smell her. Still see her every time he rolled over.

The simple solution, of course, would be to bring another woman home to his bed. Another wild night would, hopefully, drive all thoughts of Harper from his mind.

But the option seemed somehow... distasteful. Ethan could hardly believe his own thoughts but he didn’t want to lose himself in anyone else. He wanted Harper - and he wanted her to come willingly.

That was fucking laughable.

In her mind, she’d already given all she would give. Now she wanted Ethan to pick someone else... something he hadn’t really even wanted in the first place.

Maybe it would just be better to forget the whole thing.

Ethan headed back into the office to run a couple more figures. In the back of his mind, Harper Jones was silhouetted against his window in her black lingerie, and she would not be moved.

**

He made up an excuse to keep from going home that weekend. Of course, his mother was down his throat, and even Lucas called him to guilt trip him about staying away. But Ethan didn’t dare go to the manor when he knew his father would almost certainly interrogate him about Harper.

Ethan had always considered himself a pretty smooth operator, but he had never been very good at lying to his father. No one was, not even Alistair, who would turn tail and run before he lied, could avoid the truth when faced with Jackson’s fierce gaze. It always helped to know what the story was going to be when you planned on lying - and Ethan didn’t know what story he planned to tell.

All he knew was that it better be a hell of a lot better than the one he was telling himself.

Harper had promised to come up with more matches - to bring out her “big guns,” whatever that meant. He’d had a look through the women she already submitted and, while they were plenty attractive enough, there was nothing that drew him to any of them. He’d read through their profiles and could only see the pretentiousness behind each of them. They wanted someone to accommodate their needs - to cater to them hand and foot. While Ethan was all for worshipping women, he was hardly going to head into a relationship with that mentality

He found himself wondering errantly how Harper liked to be pampered. It would be something she hid from the world - a side of her that no one else ever saw. Did she like flowers and wine? Did she harbor a secret addiction for chocolate? She was the type of woman who would make you work for it - so fiercely independent that every gesture would be a struggle.

But she’d be pleased... just as secretly pleased as when she submitted to you in bed…

“Fuck.” Ethan told himself that he was going to take this weekend to himself. Sipping liquor and relaxing on the couch. He needed to detox from Harper before the next time he saw her... or things would get messy. In more ways than one. Rising from the couch, he stalked towards the kitchen. He would eat some of the fabulous cooking Rosita left for him and then he would work out until he was exhausted. Then there would be no time to worry about matches or work or anything of the sort.

God, when was the last time he’d gotten a good night’s sleep?

He couldn’t help but wonder if he would sleep well with Harper in his arms - all that soft skin and long blonde hair…

Goddamn it.

He’d made a fucking mess of things - and Ethan had no one to blame but himself.

By the time that Friday rolled around, Ethan had indeed exhausted himself into sleeping through every night - but that was by sheer virtue of staying busy. It was, he found, the only way he could keep a clear mind.

It helped that Vlad was preparing to go on a trip to Russia. Arranging for his expenses and accommodations was always a headache and a half - one that Ethan found himself surprisingly glad to be working on. He was in the middle of said figures when his mother appeared in the doorway of his office, surprising the ever-loving hell out of him.

One minute he was neck deep in Russian translations and the next she was calling his name.

“Mom!” Ethan bolted out of his chair, somehow guilty. “What are you doing here?”

“I feel like I should be asking the same of you.” She returned wryly, enfolding him in her arms. As always, Olivia Kensley was as radiant as a woman half her age, and her smile was both shrewd and comforting. “It’s past six o’clock. Usually no one can keep you in the office a minute past quitting time.”

“Yeah, well,” Ethan ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. “Vlad’s been on my ass to have this finished before he heads of to Russia. He’s been irritable as hell lately - almost like he’s still over my shoulder.”

His mother chuckled. “I’m guessing it has something to do with Charlotte Gardner. Your father tells me Vlad’s been struggling quite a bit to deal with her... eccentricities.”

“Didn’t Dad hire her for those eccentricities?” Ethan inquired, arching a brow. “He couldn’t stop going on about the design.”

“Of course. It’s brilliant - artistic and fresh... but we all know how much your brother loves change.” Ethan winced at the very insinuation. Vlad liked things the way they were - if it wasn’t broke, he didn’t think it should be fixed. Not quite up to par with their father’s revolutionary way of thinking, but he still had time. “I’m not here to talk about Vladimir though, darling.” Taking his arm, his mother urged him back into his own office. “I’m here for you.”

Ethan trained his expression into one of polite surprise even as his stomach twisted.

He might have guessed this was coming. When you worked with family, there was little viable escape. There were eyes and ears everywhere.

“What about me, Mom?” He took a seat at his desk while she settled in one of the plush, low chairs before it.

“You’ve been in the office constantly, lately. Don’t think any of us haven’t noticed.” She crossed her legs primly to fix her son with her far too knowing stare. “And we haven’t seen you with any new lady friends in the paper.”

Fuck. He should have known that little detail would ultimately come back to haunt him. Ethan Kensley, famous womanizer, away from his craft. It had only been a matter of time.

“Does that mean you’ve met someone special?”

Ethan suppressed a groan. His parents had been overly concerned with happily-ever-afters for as long as he’d known them. Whereas most parents - at least, in his opinion - told their children to settle, that there was no perfection where love was concerned, his father was always going on about how there was a perfect woman for every man and you’d know her when you saw her. As much as he loved his father, Ethan had never really believed that particular piece of advice.

If love was all sunshine and rainbows, he never would have known the Kensleys in the first place.

“Mom, I don’t know what Dad’s been telling you, but it’s nothing like that.” That was as close to the truth as he could get at the current juncture - and even that was a stretch.

“He hasn’t told me anything,” Olivia returned, her tone questioning. “Only that the lazy bones has been overworking himself. Are you so surprised that I’m concerned?”

Ethan exhaled a long breath. “Am I really that bad?”

Olivia smirked. “You’ve never been a morning person, Ethan. Not since you were a child.”

Well, that much was true. Getting him up for school had always been a chore that she sent one of his brothers to do. They lacked the gentility of their mother, but they certainly knew how to get the job done. Of course, that’s because he’d always been tired. Ethan never liked to discuss such things, but he suffered from nightmares until he was a teenager.

“Ethan, you know you can talk to me if something’s wrong.” Olivia’s dark eyes were earnest as she eyed him over his desk. “I know you’re a grown man, and that you can take care of yourself... but no one’s an island.”

This was a talk she should have been giving Vlad. Ethan had never been the strong and silent type. Next to Lucas, he was probably the most outgoing of his siblings. That had never been the issue.

“Ethan?”

He forced himself back to the present to find his mother gazing at him expectantly. “Mom, I’m fine.”

Olivia frowned. “And you’ve been sleeping well?”

There it was. That was what this was all about. Ethan raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve been exhausted, so, yeah.”

“Sleeping alone, I’d imagine.”

Ethan flinched. It was horrible enough that she’d come all the way down to the city to interrogate him. He didn’t need his mother butting into his sex life.

“You know, Ethan, perhaps looking for one woman to lessen that pain instead of many…”

“Mom.” Ethan rarely ever took this particular tone with his parents - he would never, ever want to hurt the people that raised him. But this was a sensitive subject - as anyone who knew him could attest to. His mother, perhaps, most of all. “This... this isn’t about that.” He finally managed, in an effort to take some of the bite out of his reprimand.

But it was. All at once, the memories came pouring in. The unease that he thought that he had conquered - the need that usually sent him scrabbling in search of the nearest willing woman he could find.

But at that particular juncture, Ethan found that he didn’t want just any woman. He wanted Harper.

Harper, who he would see tomorrow and have to pretend that once was enough.

If his mother was hurt by his brusqueness, she hid it well. “If you say so, sweet.” For a moment, silence hung between them and he felt like an ass. If he couldn’t talk to the woman who taught him what it was really like to have a mother about this, then who could he talk to?

The easy answer was no one. Talking about it made him feel vulnerable - and if there was one thing Ethan despised above all else, it was feeling anything less than in control of the life he’d made for himself. “Mom, I’ll come visit soon, I promise. I think I just need a break.”

His smile seemed enough to distract her - or at least enough that his mother sighed and stood, defeated. “No getting out of it this time, then. Your father nearly climbed the wall when you canceled last weekend.”

He could believe it. “This weekend. I swear.”

Leaning forward, Olivia cupped his jaw in a slender hand, her smile fond. “You know that we only want the best for you, don’t you?”

Ethan had never doubted that. If only he were as ambitious as his parents in seeking his own happiness, maybe he wouldn’t be so fucked mentally. “I know, Mom.”

She kissed his forehead as if he weren’t thirty years old, before leaving him alone in his office.

No amount of work could exhaust Ethan that night. Despite his sore muscles and tired eyes, he lay in bed wide awake, staring at the ceiling. When he was younger, everyone had always told him that he would forget. That the memories would fade with time as he grew to adulthood.

In a way, they were right. Actual memories of Ethan’s childhood had been replaced with specters that haunted him. In his dreams, his mother - the one that birthed him - was a monster that shadowed his every step. That inflicted pain without mercy and delighted in it.

That wasn’t, he supposed, so far from the truth of things.

But it was so fucking long ago that this entire affair was ridiculous. The Kensleys had more than made up for anything his biological mother had lacked.

And yet... he still sought the warmth of a female body every time his memories overwhelmed him. It was his vice - had been for as long as he could remember. One would think that years of ingrained practice wouldn’t allow him to be picky now, but Ethan couldn’t help but want more of the forbidden fruit he’d been denied.

Harper.

Harper fucking Jones.

She was going to be the death of him.