by Mari Carr
“Oh yes. That’s a biggie—discovering your mortality. I have to admit that’s probably one of the things I miss most about my younger days. In my twenties, I had all the time in the world. As I approach my forties, I realize I’ve squandered all of it.”
“I don’t know about that. I’d say you’ve put the last few hours to very good use.”
She laughed. “So I have. Well then, what are the new priorities, Mr. Mortal?”
“I’ve decided that work is just a paycheck. Don’t get me wrong. I still care about my job—hell, it’s a calling really. I love being able to help people. I just make sure that when I leave the precinct, I leave. Not just physically, but mentally as well.”
“Good for you. So am I to assume you’ve stopped the bar hopping too? Thrown the little black book away?”
He shook his head at her questions, chuckling. “Uh, Rachel. Generation alert. It’s not really called a ‘little black book’ anymore.”
“Shit,” she grimaced. “Do I want to know the new lingo for it?”
“Probably not. I referred to it as my ‘booty call list’ and the numbers were stored in my cell, not a book.”
“Gross.”
He laughed and turned the sound on the television back up. She rested her head on his shoulder and considered what he’d told her. She’d spent so much of their time together wrapped up in her own feelings of inadequacy that she’d never considered the fact he had problems too. She’d looked at him and seen a guy who had his act together, a good job, good looks, great personality. It was funny to think that inside, he was just as lost as she was.
They were simply two people looking at the world through different eyes from where they’d originally started. His entire outlook on life had been shattered by that bullet. Sort of like how her ex-husband had destroyed her self-esteem, her plans for a future she’d thought was solid. Difference was, Ethan had moved on and she hadn’t.
Autumn was right, she’d shut down after the divorce. Wasted six fucking years of her life, never taking a risk with her heart.
Now she’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire—because she was afraid she was going to fall hopelessly and madly in love with Ethan. And when that happened, she was destined to be destroyed again. Maybe this time the damage would be irrevocable.
“Ready to cry uncle?”
She jerked at his question, suddenly aware he’d turned the TV off and was looking at her.
“Sorry?” she asked, confused.
His fist engulfed his aroused cock, focusing her wavering attention very quickly.
“Yowza,” she whispered.
“There’s twenty bucks on the table. You ready to concede and get some sleep, or is the game still on?”
She grinned at his dare. “Are we still working from the Kama Sutra list?”
He shrugged. “I want to take you doggy style.”
Nodding, she upped the ante. “Standing up. In the shower.”
“God, I love your style,” he muttered, rising and pulling her up.
“Really? Not too old-fashioned? Out of date?” she joked.
“You’re perfect. Now take off that stupid T-shirt before I rip it off you.”
She giggled as she started for the bathroom. Dragging the cotton material over her head, she dropped it in the hallway. Ethan was hot on her heels as she bent to turn on the water. He peeled her panties over her hips from behind and caressed her ass as she pretended to adjust the water temperature. Soon his caresses turned more daring as he dragged his fingers along her slit. She opened her legs to grant him better access, gripping the side of the tub for support.
His fingers explored her pussy, playing with the moisture he found there.
“Ever done any anal play?” he asked, drawing his fingers back to her hole.
She gasped when he wiggled the tip of one finger inside her anus.
“Jesus,” she muttered. “I’d never given a blowjob before tonight, Ethan. What the hell do you think?” As she spoke, she pushed back against his finger, curiosity outpacing the tiny bit of panic emerging.
“I think I can’t wait to expand your horizons. Get in.” He slapped her ass playfully then helped her into the shower before following. The steam in the shower was nothing compared to the heat rising off her body from his provocative comment.
Damn, he was right. She would need a list to remember all the amazing things they were doing together. In one night, the man had more than made up for thirty-seven years lived as a virtual nun.
God bless sinning!
He pulled her back against his chest, his hands wrapping around to engulf her breasts. “I love how well you fit me.”
“Fit you?”
“You’re the perfect height to have sex with,” he answered.
“Ah well, nice to know what your requirements are. No age hang-ups, but women must fall between the five-foot-six to five-foot-eight range.”
“Guy’s gotta have his principles. Not to sound completely shallow, but mine also include big tits and an ass that a man can sink his fingers into.” He illustrated his point by palming the cheeks of her rear end and squeezing.
She rolled her eyes. “Nope, that didn’t sound shallow at all. I think I want to get out of this shower now, caveman.”
He chuckled. “I’m just teasing. I told you, I got rid of the booty call list. I’m not looking for easy hook-ups anymore.”
“So what are you looking for now?” she asked, fairly certain he wasn’t looking for a thirty-seven-year-old divorcee. Dammit.
“Someone fun to hang out with. A sweet woman with a good sense of humor and intelligence. Someone I wouldn’t mind spending forever with.”
Her breath caught in her chest as he spoke. She wanted the same things.
Well, not a woman.
She looked over her shoulder and gave him a quick kiss. “I think everyone wishes for someone like that,” she said softly.
“Do you?” he asked.
She nodded and he offered her a sweet grin. Christ, was he thinking of her? He didn’t give her time to ponder that thought.
“Turn around and put your hands on that wall. If I’m not inside you in thirty seconds, this won’t end well.”
Impatience. Now that was something she could understand. She turned, thrilled when he kept his word and pushed his cock inside her in one hard thrust. While she loved his foreplay, sometimes it was better to simply get down to business. He took her exactly the way she’d discovered she loved—hard and fast—and she sensed an urgency in him she’d never seen before. She met him thrust for thrust and her orgasm, as usual, built quickly as his position behind her ensured he hit her sweet spot on every pass.
“Oh. My. God,” she cried as her climax crashed down on her. She knew from his breathing that Ethan was close as well.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he pulled out quickly. She was shocked—until she felt hot jets of come landing on her back.
No condom. They’d forgotten and they’d almost made a whopper of a mistake.
“I’m so sorry, Rachel,” he whispered as the water continued to pound on her sensitive skin.
“I forgot too.” She turned and wrapped her arms around his waist. He moved her into the direct stream of the water, using his hands to rinse away his sperm. “No harm, no foul.”
“I didn’t want to pull out,” he confessed.
“What?” she asked, surprised when his grip tightened.
“I realized on the first thrust I’d forgotten the condom. I couldn’t make myself stop. I…”
She pulled away and tried to understand what he was saying, what he was trying to tell her. “It’s pretty close to period time for me, so chances are good we would have been okay anyway.” She wondered if he was feeling guilty for putting her at risk.
He shook his head. “The thing is…I don’t think I would have minded if you’d gotten pregnant.”
She jerked, pressing herself against the tiled wall at her back. “Well, I would have minded. I’m to
o damn old to have a baby.”
He scowled. “You are not. Are you telling me you don’t want kids?”
A pain shot through her heart at his question. She’d always, always wanted kids, but she’d given up on that dream long ago. “I wanted them, but Alex— According to him, it was never a good time. He was in medical school for years and then trying to build up the practice the years following that. Of course, by that time, unbeknownst to me, he was already looking ahead to the next wife.”
“I’m sorry, Rachel. Your ex sounds like a grade-A prick.”
She smiled sadly and shrugged. “That he is.”
“I want kids,” he said. She imagined him with a brood of boys, him wrestling with them in the living room, playing cops and robbers in the backyard with Nerf guns. Then she saw him sitting on the edge of a bed, reading a bedtime story to a little girl with dark hair like his. “I never thought much about it until I got shot. Now I think about it all the time.”
“You’ll be a wonderful father. Your kids will be the luckiest on earth.”
“Maybe.” He reached around her to turn off the water before helping her out. He dried her off before grabbing a towel for himself.
“Well, apart from the amazing sex, that was a pretty useless shower. I didn’t scrub one inch of my body.”
“I wouldn’t say it was useless at all. I love talking to you,” he answered. She had to agree. In just a few short minutes, she’d learned more intimate details about the man than she had in all the weeks of their budding friendship. She was shocked to discover how many dreams they shared.
“We’ll try it again in the morning.” He wrapped the towel around his waist. “I’ll even wash your hair for you.” She stared at him, trying to convince herself this night was truly real and not some elaborate fantasy she’d created in her mind.
Ethan was turning out to be very different from the man she’d thought him to be. It was disconcerting to realize her handsome playboy possessed a serious, thoughtful side. He’d never been as attractive to her as he was now, as he talked about falling in love and having kids. Suddenly there was a small part of her that was afraid to go to sleep, afraid she’d wake up in the morning to discover none of this had happened.
“There goes that head of yours again. Come on, Doc. Let’s get some sleep.”
Chapter Four
“Good morning, sunshine.”
Rachel opened her eyes and blinked hard against the bright light. She sat up as Ethan walked into the room with two cups of coffee. He’d put his clothes on, but had left his shirt unbuttoned so she had a crystal-clear view of abs she could bounce a penny on.
“It wasn’t a dream,” she mumbled as he handed her a mug of much-needed caffeine.
He shook his head with a big grin, seemingly pleased by her surprise at finding him there. “You sure are good for the ego, Rachel.”
She attempted to shake herself awake, shake herself aware. “Yeah, well, don’t go getting a big head about it or anything.”
“As well as for keeping a man grounded. You’re a woman of many talents and incredible beauty.”
At his words, she panicked. Oh shit. There he was looking like Mr. Universe and she was sitting in bed, naked from the waist up with morning-after hair and no makeup. She hastily put her coffee on the nightstand and looked for any piece of clothing close enough for her to lay her hands on.
Of course, it probably didn’t matter. Their night was over. The challenge completed. Prior to last night she would have been surprised to find him still in her apartment. Part of her would have expected him to simply leave a note saying thanks for the shits and giggles. Now that she knew him better, she knew he was enough of a gentleman to stick around and at least say his goodbyes in person. Her heart ached at the thought. She’d prefer the damn note.
“I need to get dressed,” she said at last.
“Okay,” he replied easily, sitting at the edge of the bed.
“I suppose you’ll be going then.”
“Going?” he asked.
“Yeah. I mean, the night’s over. I completed my dare. Thank you very much, by the way. So I guess this is the part where I say ‘It’s been fun’, right?”
He scowled. “You aren’t serious?”
“That it was fun?”
“I suppose we should get this part out of the way or the rest of this relationship is gonna suck,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes, wondering at his words and the sadness of his tone. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Your ex-husband—” he began, but she cut him off.
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Then I guess you should have left old Voldemort out in the hall rather than dragging him into the bedroom with us,” he said.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked angrily. She wasn’t about to go into the dirty details of her decade-long disaster of a marriage. Ethan already knew too much.
“He clearly fucked with your head. Made you feel insignificant, maybe even a little stupid, right?”
She sucked in a painful breath at his astute comments. As always, when faced with a question she couldn’t answer, she merely shrugged.
“He convinced you that men don’t stick around, right?”
“I—” she began, but Ethan cut her off.
“Well, he was a dumbass,” Ethan said hotly. “And you’re a dumbass for believing any of that shit.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said you’re a dumbass.”
“I’m a dumbass,” she repeated louder.
“Yes,” he replied, his voice rising as well.
She rose up on her knees and poked her finger in his chest. “Well, if I’m a dumbass, then you’re a liar.”
“Liar?”
“Liar. You lied to me. You lied about your intentions. What is this crap about a relationship?” she asked.
“What the hell did you think last night was about?” he asked.
“What I was supposed to think it was about. A one-night stand. You were helping me live that cougar fantasy.” She pulled the sheet up to her neck to cover herself and wondered about the frustration on his face. She knew she hadn’t messed that up. She’d have remembered if he’d even slightly insinuated they were entering into a relationship.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Yeah, that was what you were supposed to think. Christ, I’ve screwed this up.”
She forced a grin, hating how lost and forlorn he looked, wishing she could put a smile back on his face. “Well, you’ve certainly screwed something, but I don’t think it’s this,” she joked. He looked too intense, too serious. She just wanted her lovely, easygoing Ethan back.
Unfortunately her lame jest missed the mark.
“I’ve been trying to figure out a way to ask you out for weeks, but I knew you’d throw the patient/client thing and the age difference up in my face. When I saw that stupid list of names, that cougar challenge, I latched onto it,” he admitted.
She stared at him, trying to process his comments. His lips were moving, but the words she was hearing simply couldn’t be right. He wanted to date her? Her?
“You wanted to go out with me?” She closed her eyes and groaned at her stupid question.
“Why is that so fucking hard for you to believe, Rachel?” he yelled.
She jumped at his harsh tone, his angry face.
“Look at me,” she said. “I’m too old. I’m divorced. I’m—”
“Come here,” Ethan said, gripping her upper arm in his large hand and dragging her to the mirror attached to her dressing table. Her attempt to hold on to the sheet failed, and she wanted to crawl under the bed as her naked body came into view. “Tell me what you see.”
She fought against closing her eyes and blocking the image, knowing Ethan wouldn’t allow her even that small escape.
“I see me,” she said, her voice laced with her usual smartass tone.
“And?”
“You,” she added with a smirk she ho
ped hid the despair closing in on her.
“Cute, Rachel. Real cute. Jokes work for you, don’t they? You don’t want to be serious, don’t want to handle any heavy stuff, so you laugh it all away. Does that help when you’re in bed alone at night?”
“I don’t have to stand here and listen to—”
“Yeah, actually you do, because I’m not leaving this house until you see in that mirror what I see.”
“Is that right?” she asked, sarcasm dripping off her tongue. “And what exactly would that be, Ethan?”
“The hottest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. The funniest, sweetest, most compassionate woman I’ve ever met. The physical therapist who’s had me rock-hard and aching since the first damn day she made me do those stupid stretching exercises and the woman I’m going to make love to all day and most of tonight. We haven’t even scratched the surface on that list.”
“All day?” she whispered.
“And night,” he repeated.
“Oh my.”
He shook his head ruefully. “Hell, who am I kidding? I wanna fuck you every night and pretty much every day for as long as you’ll have me. So does that answer your question?”
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. He saw all that? She recalled her perusal of her face just the day before. All she’d seen was a woman in need of a dye job and with flabby upper arms. She studied her face again, looking at herself through Ethan’s eyes and suddenly the blinders of her pain, the hurt inflicted on her by her ex-husband’s infidelity, fell away.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen all that.”
“You’re living on an island, Doc, and you’ve burned down every bridge to the mainland.”
Had she done that? Yes, she had. Her gaze left her reflection and moved to his. She studied his dear, sweet face and realized he’d been building a bridge, trying to reach her since the first day they’d met. He’d offered her friendship and fantasy all rolled into one delicious package.
“Is this a bad time to say I’m sorry?” she asked.
He grinned. “I don’t want an apology, Rachel. I just want you to trust me. Believe the words that I say without always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
