by Sophia Gray
Ethan grinned at me. “I always knew you wanted me. You’ve always been such a dirty, hot little momma.”
If I was going to argue with him, that argument died as soon as his hands moved up just a little higher to find me already swollen and wet. I let out a moan when his thumbs moved along the outside of my entrance, sliding against the inside of my labia. They pulled me open, exposing me.
“Should I finger you, Diana?” he asked me, his tone almost casual, like he wasn’t holding me open, his thumbs coated in my own natural lubrication.
“Bastard,” I got out, but it was halfhearted.
“That’s not an answer.”
I swallowed, my face burning. I didn’t even know if it was from embarrassment or need. “Yes, you should definitely finger me,” I ground out.
He smirked at me. “That’s what I want to hear.” And finally, he let one of his thumbs slide over and dip into my opening.
“Christ!” I called out.
“He won’t save you now,” he told me as he let his thumb pump in and out of me. “But if you want to beg me, I might be able to.”
It was a lie. No one could save me now. I was completely lost to sensation and to this wicked man in front of me. I groaned, my hips jerking towards his hand as his thumb continued to slide into me.
“Beg,” he told me, his voice low and gravelly.
I whimpered when his thumb left my entrance. “Please, Ethan, touch me.”
“Touch you where?” he asked innocently, but I could see the wicked glint in his eyes. “C’mon, baby, tell me where to touch you.”
I bit my lip, both turned on and embarrassed by the way he insisted I say it. “Between my legs,” I managed, but that wasn’t enough for him. I tried again. “My pussy. Please, touch my pussy.”
And he did. He slid three fingers into me at my request and caressed my inner walls like they were velvet. His thumb found my clit then, and started to rub over it. I felt pressure inside of me build already.
“You’re gonna come for me, Diana,” he murmured against my lips, not quite kissing them.
I swallowed and admitted, “I always do.” A moment later, I fell over the edge and found my release over his hand. Falling forward, I used his firm body to keep myself up. It took me a moment to register that we were moving, but when he whispered in my ear, I came back a little.
“Where’s the bedroom?”
I pointed to a room down the hall and he led me there. As soon as we were in my little room, he shoved me down on the bed and began to undress. Now that I’d had my first orgasm of the night—my body trembled with the promise of more to come—he was eager to get his. He took of his clothes quickly, his shirt disappearing and his pants undone in seconds.
I watched as he exposed more and more of his scarred, wonderful skin. I loved that stripe of gnarled pink skin down his chest and that slash over his bicep. And I loved that trail of dark hair that dipped into his pants, leading to his hardness within.
The pants were gone just as quickly as the shirt, revealing that he was rock hard and practically vibrating with need.
He crawled on top of me, kissing up my body and rucking up my shirt at the same time. I mewled as his soft lips pressed hot spots against my skin until I was on fire all over again. He settled on his knees between my legs and smiled at me. His shaft was rigid, the head swollen.
“Take off your shirt,” he told me.
I obliged, sitting up awkwardly to pull it up and off between us. It reminded me of that first time in his office, but I marveled at how things had changed. And not just the fact that we were doing it in a bed.
“Beautiful,” he murmured and I flushed. He grabbed my legs and hooked them over his shoulders, my knees bent just slightly. His erection slid along my folds, collecting the moisture there, before his head poised at my entrance.
I took a deep, shuddering breath and waited.
A second later, he plunged his entire length inside of me until I was so full I could feel him at the very back of me. We groaned in unison at the connection. “Fuck,” he murmured and then he began to move.
His strokes were slow and easy at first, full of trembling and anticipation, but I knew him well at this point. He couldn’t maintain this achingly slow pace for long.
Reaching my hands up, I placed them palms flat against his chest. Slowly, I trailed my fingers over his hard muscles, enjoying the way they tensed beneath my fingertips. “Please,” was all I said to him and it was enough.
His pace increased, his thrusts becoming hard and fast as his turgid length moved within me. My hips bucked up to try to meet him, our bodies falling into a helpless rhythm dictated by lust and need and something more delicate.
I could tell when he was on the edge, because his thrusts became more erratic as he struggled to maintain his pace.
So I let my hands wander away from his chest, slipping lower over his abs before falling between our two bodies. He watched with hungry eyes as my finger moved to my clit right above where his length was buried within me.
He groaned when I began to touch myself. “That’s it. I love it when you touch yourself.”
I bit my lower lip as I began to move my finger faster and faster against it. His thrusts were fast, but his movements were jerky. His hard body glistened with sweat and I saw that tick in his jaw telling me he was close, that he was straining.
When he came, he let out a low groaning sound, pushing himself as deep into me as he could. For the first time, he released inside of me and it was wonderful.
I was still touching myself as he panted above me, his length slowly softening inside of me. I was close, but not close enough for Ethan’s liking.
He pushed my hand aside and replaced it with his own, his thumb rubbing hard and fast against my flesh. I gasped and then let myself tumble over the edge of pleasure, falling into it. I cried out his name, “Ethan!” Then I went limp.
He slid out of me then and rolled off me so we could both lay together on my little bed. “I should have found myself a single mother a while ago,” he murmured beside me.
“Why?” I asked, feeling loopy and breathless.
“Because momma knows best.” He paused, then looked over at me, his eyes gleaming. “Plus, you’ve got the best goddamned tits.”
I laughed a little and he watched as the sound made my chest move.
“Yep. Best tits.”
Chapter 15
I was on my knees in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess I’d made at Ethan’s loud knocking. The towel was soaking and there were glass pieces everywhere, but I gathered everything up so I wasn’t worried about stabbing my bare feet with shards of glass.
While I cleaned up, Ethan was on the phone. He’d put his pants back on, though they hung low around his waist and his shirt remained notably missing. Which was fine with me. I stared at him now as he paced, talking to Louis. His body was ripped, the muscles hard across his body. His abs were carved into his stomach and his broad shoulders were thick with pectoral muscles that slipped down into large biceps. Those small scars—and not so small ones—across his skin made him seem real to me, giving him a hard edge that sent shivers down my spine.
It was weird having him in my home, even after christening our new relationship in it.
Is it a relationship? I wondered silently. And what about Cody?
After crumpling together in a passionate heap, Ethan had thought to ask about my six-year-old. It was amusing for a second to see how panicked he was that Cody might be home. I was pretty sure that was the only time I’d really seen Ethan nervous about anything. Of course, I’d explained that Cody wasn’t here and that had smoothed things over immediately.
But would it always be like that? Out of sight, out of mind when it came to my son? Or would he be willing to accept Cody into his life?
He’d told me he loved me, or at least felt a very strong, intense emotion that was bundled up in affection and sexual attraction. Which I admittedly also felt. But was that enough t
o base a relationship on?
Clearly, there were some details to be worked out here.
I wasn’t sure, but I knew I felt better having Ethan here with me. If someone came for me while he was here, Ethan would take care of them. He was tough and could be a real bastard, which meant he was exactly the kind of man I wanted on my side. And maybe in my life.
“I want you to keep it quiet,” Ethan was telling Louis. He’d called his guard dog after we’d recovered from our orgasms. They were discussing moving his stash of drugs from The Cut tonight. “I know there’s a lot there, but I don’t want to risk word getting out.” There was a pause, then, “Tommy knew. Which means he had to find out somehow. We were careful and that tells me maybe there’s someone slinking around that I shouldn’t be trusting.”
I frowned. A spy? I thought. Or maybe spy wasn’t the right word. Traitor? I stood and deposited the glass-filled towel in the kitchen trash.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll come down to help you,” Ethan said, then he glanced over at me. “Give me thirty. I’ll meet you there.”
“You’re going to help Louis move the crates?” I guessed as he shoved his phone into his pocket.
He nodded. “Yes. There’s a lot there and we want it moved as fast as possible.”
“And you don’t trust anyone else to help Louis?”
He smirked at me, walking over to me with a swagger that was pure Ethan. He came to me and put his hands on my hips, pulling me against him. I had put my shirt back on, but my panties remained lost somewhere in the apartment, probably to be found at a really awkward moment later. “Not unless you’re offering to help.”
He said it like he knew I wouldn’t want to, which made me straighten up and lift my chin so that I met his gaze. “If you need it.”
His eyebrows shot up high on his forehead. “Oh?”
Swallowing, I smiled at him sweetly and nodded. “Yeah. I’m not afraid.” Which was an outright lie, but I felt like he was teasing me and I didn’t want him to think I was a pushover. And maybe I wanted to prove that whatever had just started between us—a partnership, a relationship—I was serious about it.
He laughed at me, then shook his head. “I do love your bravado, Diana Leone. My kinda woman.”
He leaned down and kissed me then before I could say anything else. His tongue delved into my mouth and for a second, I thought we were going to have sex all over again. But despite the way his hands moved up under my shirt, grabbing my naked rear, we didn’t fall into bed again. He broke the kiss, his eyes dark with lust. “Fine. Put some damn clothes on then before I decide I’d rather have a payment than your help.”
I swatted at him for the payment comment, but didn’t take offense like maybe I should have. “Then keep your hands off my ass,” I retorted.
He squeezed my cheeks in response, smirking. It took everything I had to pull away from him, but it we were going to do this, we had to get moving, not play grab ass. I headed to my room to find panties and pants. And maybe a bra. I found myself pausing at the doorway to the hall. I hadn’t meant to, but I glanced back at him. He was staring at me with dark, smoldering eyes that told me he’d rather repeat our earlier activities than start these new ones.
I swallowed thickly. Maybe not a bra.
# # #
We drove to The Cut in Ethan’s car. He asked me a couple of quick questions about the business—his end of it and mine—while he drove.
“Are you asking me as a business partner or a peon?” I asked.
Though we’d talked about some things tonight, including Ethan’s feelings for me, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure where we stood. Did this mean we were a couple now? Or partners? Partners with benefits? Or was this more of a romantic relationship and I was supposed to keep my nose out of the business?
He took his eyes off the road to glance over at me, but didn’t linger. “You were never a peon.”
I snorted in amusement. “No?”
“No,” he said firmly, his tone allowing no room for arguing.
“Okay. But you didn’t always have feelings for me,” I pointed out. “So I must have been something different than I am now.”
He turned left on Montgomery, heading the back way to the shop instead of the more obvious route. I wondered briefly if he thought maybe Tommy or his men might know where I lived and were even watching my apartment building. I told myself that was the paranoia talking, but it was hard to brush that aside when it was a very real possibility.
“Sure, things are different,” he admitted. “That doesn’t mean I ever thought of you as a peon. You had spunk from the get-go and it would have been stupid to just throw away that business knowhow.”
I lifted an eyebrow, though he was back to looking at the road not me, so he likely didn’t see it. “Business knowhow,” I repeated. “Fine, I was running The Cut before you came along, but the fact is you made it successful, not me.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Of course I did. That’s what I do.”
I laughed a little. Still cocky.
“But even I can’t make gold out of nothing.”
I fell silent, taking in the compliment hidden in his words. He thought The Cut was something, even if he obviously felt pretty proud of himself for making it what it was now. And all he had to do was burn down half my store, I thought wryly. But the knowledge that he’d sabotaged half my revenue and blackmailed me didn’t leave me with the same angry feelings it once did. Instead, I felt pride at having survived despite the roadblocks.
After a bit, I said, “You didn’t answer me. Am I a partner or not?”
He thought a moment, then asked, “Do you want to be?”
Did I want to be? Hell of a question. A couple of months ago the answer would have been a resolute no. Who wanted to get dragged into an illicit business of buying and selling—or, at the very least, storing—illegal drugs? Not good, law-abiding citizens like myself. But I’d come to the conclusion that being a decent person and following the rules didn’t really get me anything other than bills I couldn’t stay on top of and other people taking advantage of me.
“Better answer with conviction, because I won’t ask again,” Ethan warned me.
I straightened up in my seat, lifting my chin defiantly. “Yes. I want to be a partner. If I’m going to be your…whatever, and store your drugs, then I want to be involved. Completely.”
He smirked a little at the “whatever” comment, but nodded his head. “Al lright. But understand the risks involved. If we go down, it won’t be to juvie.”
“I’m not afraid.”
He belted out a laugh that was dark and smooth, the sound filling up the car. Shaking his head a little he said, “Of course you are, but that’s what I like about you. You’ll do what needs to be done even if you’re terrified. Mark of a strong person.”
I blushed a little at the compliment, but also because I really wanted to argue with him about being scared. He was right, of course. I was scared. Prison was not somewhere I ever wanted to be. But I was already in this mess. I might as well go in all the way.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “And the other stuff?”
“What other stuff?”
Taking a breath, I asked, “Payments? Am I still your call girl?”
Grinning, he glanced over at me and let his eyes drag over my form long enough to make me uncomfortable that he wasn’t watching the road. But my body certainly didn’t mind the attention. “No, now you’re just my girl. And if I catch you with anyone else, I’ll kill him.”
If that promise was supposed to worry me, it didn’t. Instead, I felt a warmth blossom in my chest at the fact that I was his.
“Are you good with that?” he asked, but his expression suggested he already knew my answer.
So he seemed a little startled when I threw him a curveball instead. “Maybe. But I have two questions first.”
Shooting me a dubious look, he nodded.
“First, what about Cody?”
“What about him
?”
“Are you just looking for the booty without the baggage?”
He smirked a little at my terminology. “I told you, I like a dirty momma.”
Flushing, I kept his words from derailing me. “Yeah, but do you want to deal with her kid, too?”
“You’re a package deal, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m taking you both. Mine is mine. Cody could use a male figure in his life anyway.”
