by C. M. Owens
By the time they pull him off the other guy, the guy’s nose is a bloody mess, as well as his mouth. He’s clutching his side, and Ethan is still giving the security team hell, making three guys hold him back.
I guess I have my answer about what he’d do if he found out my ass was getting grabbed all night.
My heartbeat is in my ears as Ethan curses and threatens the guy, acting completely crazy. I’ve never seen him lose it like that, and I have to blame it on the fact he’s too drunk to think logically. What if that guy sues him?
“I’ve come to all of his parties, and I’ve never seen him go ape shit like that,” one guy is saying.
“Yeah, he’s fucking psycho. Awesome!”
Feeling even more uncomfortable, I slowly make my way back to Ethan as he shrugs off his last security guy. He’s telling them to make sure that ‘piece of shit’ never comes back.
When he sees me, the violent man on the surface ducks back into hiding, and he pulls me toward him again, kissing the top of my head with a tenderness that contradicts the brutal act he just displayed.
“You okay?” he asks, tilting my chin up so that my eyes can meet his.
“I’m fine. That was way over the top.”
His look hardens with that. “The hell it was. This is my house, and you’re my girl. Fuck him. He needed his ass kicked.”
I want to slap him and kiss him in the same breath. I hate the whole caveman thing, but at the same time, I’m fairly positive no one has ever been so fiercely overprotective of me. However, I still think beating the hell out of a guy over something as simple as that is overkill.
What would have happened if security hadn’t been here?
Ethan moves me against him, kissing me again, and I give up thinking until we start moving toward his bedroom.
“I think you owe me bathroom sex,” he murmurs against my lips, pushing his door open.
My smile spreads, surprising me, but that smile dies immediately when we hear the moans and growls coming from somewhere in the dark room.
“What the fuck?” Ethan barks while flipping on the light.
On his bed, Star Morgan and some guy I’ve seen at the gym—Cody?—look up from their joined positions on the bed, fully naked.
“What the hell, dude?” Cody snaps.
“This is my fucking bed, dude. It’s off limits. This damn door was locked!” Ethan explodes.
Cody curses while rolling off Star, and I’m subjected to seeing all of his naked body, including his condom-covered penis—as he grabs his jeans with jerky movements. Star… I also get to see her. She grabs a sheet, but it’s too late. I’ve gotten an eyeful.
I’m not sure how I feel about his ex being on his bed. Naked. Even if it is with another guy.
“Sorry,” Cody says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “She said this was a guest room, and the door wasn’t locked.”
“Oops,” Star says, though it doesn’t sound genuine.
Star cuts her eyes toward me, and she gives me a smile… A smile that almost looks sweet, but I have a feeling it’s lined with a razor’s edge.
Star stands, keeping Ethan’s sheet wrapped around her, and I turn and walk out when she gives him the same smile she gave me and utters a fake apology. I’m out the front door when Ethan catches up to me, and I pass a guy who is puking in the bushes.
“Bella! Where the hell are you going?” Ethan demands, gently grabbing my arm and forcing me to turn around.
He looks confused, as though he can’t understand why I’d possibly consider leaving.
When a girl streaks by in nothing but her bra and panties, streaming a roll of toilet paper behind her like another group are doing, I roll my eyes.
“Ethan, as much as I want to be with you tonight, I don’t want to be here. There’s puke on my shoes, gum in my hair, and beer all over my shirt. There’s also blood on my jeans from where you punched a guy. Oh, and I just saw your ex—the one you envisioned a future with—naked on your bed. Pardon me if I don’t feel like hanging around to see what other goodies I might find.”
He grimaces, but overall, he’s still staring at me like I’m the one overreacting.
I don’t want to argue while he’s drunk. That will never end well.
“Go back in and enjoy yourself. I’m going to walk home,” I tell him, forcing a smile.
“Like hell. Bella, I’m not letting you walk home alone. Just give me a damn second, and I’ll walk you back myself.”
People inside start chanting his name. Maybe I am a wet blanket.
“Stay here,” he tells me before turning to head back inside.
Deciding I don’t want him to feel torn about what to do, I wait until he walks in to do whatever it is he’s going to do, and I start sprinting toward my house. It’s not far, and I don’t have to slow down.
By the time I reach my yard, I kick off my ruined shoes, leave them on the front porch, and I head inside to find Bananas has clawed up my leather chair. Maverick Sterling needs to get this damn cat out of my house.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I blow out a long breath before reading the message.
ASSHOLE: Where the hell are you?
I guess he just got back outside and discovered me gone.
ME: At home. Enjoy your party. I’ll see you tomorrow.
ASSHOLE: Fine.
Obviously he’s pissed, but he’ll sober up tomorrow and we can have this discussion without the blur of alcohol.
I head to my bedroom, shower, and then crash.
I hope Ethan knows that unless he gets a new bed, he’s never getting laid in his bedroom again. I don’t foresee me forgetting the mental image of Star’s flawless, naked body spread over his bed.
It’s just a phase… Eventually he’ll get tired of the parties, just like everyone else. Then maybe, just maybe, there could be a future.
Chapter 46
ETHAN
I haven’t seen Bella since she bailed on me at the party two days ago, and this will be day three, unless she agrees to see me. I wanted to go over to her place first thing the next morning, but I didn’t wake up until a little after two. In the afternoon. By then, she was gone with Allie and Angel to shop for Angel’s school play.
Then I wanted to see her yesterday, but she had to work, and she ended up pulling a double. I wanted to let myself into her house and just wait on her to get home, but a few people showed up—names are lost on me—and we ended up drinking late into the night, since I figured Bella would be too tired to do anything other than sleep.
I really regret that decision, based on the late-night drunk texts that passed between us. I don’t even remember the conversation, but I do know she’s probably pissed, since she’s not answering today.
ME: You still in a pissy mood, or can I come over and get some?
That was the message I sent her a little after midnight last night. I wish she hadn’t seen it or responded.
BELLA: I guess you’re drunk again. Say hi to Star for me, and tell her not to fuck anyone on your bed when you get a new one. Please.
ME: Star isn’t here. Just some other people. Come over and make it up to me for leaving like a punk the other night.
BELLA: Thanks, but no thanks. I’m good.
ME: I know you’re good. That’s why I want you over here.
BELLA: Glad you want me for sex. Good to know. Good night. I have work tomorrow.
ME: Really? That’s it? You’re blowing me off again?
BELLA: I have a job.
ME: Lose the job and come ride me.
ME: Seriously come over.
ME: Are you ignoring me?
ME: Fine. What the fuck ever. Bye.
And now I want to punch myself. Every time I read them back, they seem worse. I’ve sent several messages since I woke up over an hour ago and realized what I’d done.
ME: Sorry about last night. I’ll hide my phone from now on.
ME: Hey, what time you get off? I’ll pick you up and take you out to dinner o
r something.
ME: I realize I’m an asshole, but please text me back or call. I’m sorry.
Inwardly groaning, I toss my phone to the side. She hasn’t messaged back, and she hasn’t called. All the while, I’m stewing in my stupidity.
Funny how all I ever wanted was my freedom, yet now I’m begging a chick to tether me to her. It’s harder to sway her opinion about having fun with me, if she’s miserable, and then I go and drunk text her on top of that.
I’ve replayed the party events in my head a few times, and decided it wasn’t any one thing that set her off and made her ready to leave. Next time, I’ll just keep her with me all night, just like I should have done this time.
My phone chimes, and I practically rip it up from the table to check it. Unfortunately, it’s just another ping from that motherfucking MILF dating site Bella added me to. Damn her.
Getting up, I stuff my phone into my pocket and grab my keys.
It’s a short drive to Rye’s garage, and I pull in, seeing it full to the brim with people waiting to have shit done. I forgot Brin recently started working for Rye as his office manager, since his other one quit without notice and Brin couldn’t stand her boss at the museum anymore.
Brin waves when she sees me, but it’s more of a polite gesture, because she’s a whirlwind of motion as she deals with people who are coming in. Rye is downstairs in the garage, and I see him through one of the viewing windows.
Deciding he’s too busy to do anything else, I head out, waving at Brin, who doesn’t even notice me this time. Wren will have Allie at home with him, because she’s started handling all his things like an assistant—one he never even knew he desperately needed.
Tag… Fuck, Tag has a new baby, but I still drive over to his place.
When I get there, he opens the door for me, looking exhausted as he holds the tiny little baby girl in his arms, and walks with Trip attached to his leg like it’s his favorite seat in the house.
“Damn,” I drawl, looking him over. “Aren’t you the family man.”
He rolls his eyes and gestures me in, and I walk inside to see baby pins, baby toys, and baby clothes scattered everywhere between the little guy on his leg and the pink bundle in his arms.
“And a baby store exploded in here.”
He grunts something before shaking his head.
“It’s the dreaded adjustment period, and Fall doesn’t like to sleep,” he explains.
“And your wife?” I muse.
“Is taking her turn getting in a nap. I just woke up a few minutes ago and took over so she could get some sleep. We’re both running on empty right now. But Melanie and Ray are coming over tonight to help out.”
I just nod, surveying the home. Once upon a time, Tag was cleaning up parties the way I am. Now he’s juggling two kids on a shift.
I feel sorry for him.
“What’s up? Did you need something?” he asks me.
I shake my head, deciding he has too much on his plate to go golfing or something.
“Nah. Just stopping in to check on things.”
Guilt hits me when he smiles like he appreciates that.
“Thanks, man,” he says, digging that guilt a little deeper into me. “It’s actually not so bad. I think Trip just spoiled us because he’d sleep for hours at a time without waking up. Fall, however, sleeps about thirty minutes at a time. They keep telling us she’ll get better and sleep longer though.”
Trip peers up at me with wide, curious eyes, and his hands tighten on his dad’s leg when his gaze meets mine. Smirking, I look over at Fall, who is sucking a pacifier like it’s the greatest invention ever.
“And she doesn’t like to be put down,” Tag goes on, sighing with exasperation, but then a smile lights up his face when he looks down at her.
“Well, alright then. I’d offer to help you out, but…” I let the words trail off, and we both start laughing.
“Thanks. I get it. I’ve been you before.”
Shrugging, I clap him on the shoulder as we say goodbye, and I let myself out.
All of my friends have lives, and I’m still trying to catch up. I just wish Bella was in the same place I am, because then I wouldn’t have to deal with her being pissed at me while I play catch up.
Chapter 47
BELLA
My phone is dead, and quite frankly, so am I.
Work was brutal, and I almost got into a fight. Almost. Yep, I chastised Ethan for getting drunk and punching someone, yet I almost knocked a girl out while I was sober. Sheesh.
I need a break.
I also need something else… And I’m not calling Ethan to get it. He can grovel for a minute to make up for his assholish texting. This is supposed to be a relationship, not a freaking booty call arrangement.
At least, I think it’s supposed to be a relationship.
Water drips on top of my head, and I curse as I look up, noticing my ceiling has a huge wet spot on it. What the hell? It hasn’t rained in days.
There’s a puddle on my floor, and a wet spot on my roof. It’s a one-story home, so it’s not like there’s an upstairs bathroom.
Groaning, I toss a pan under the drip, deciding I need that release more than ever before I deal with that mess.
Sliding under the covers, I turn on my Magic Wand, picturing Ethan’s body over mine as he takes his time torturing me with his hands and mouth. The second the vibrations hit the right spot, I keep it there, not wasting anytime to hurdle myself toward the finish line as I put that Jacob’s ladder image to work.
But… The fucking thing dies right before I orgasm, and I curse and groan and beg it to work. I haven’t replaced the cord that psychotic cat chewed up, so I can’t charge it.
“Damn it!” I snap, deciding to do things the old fashion way just to get my release.
Frustrated, I toss aside the useless wand, and I move my fingers down right where I need them, taking myself to that finish line at a much, much slower, more laborious pace. Just as I reach the brink, I’m screaming for all the wrong reasons as pain slices through my hand and tears spring to my eyes from the surprise attack.
My eyes dart down to see the kitten from hell savagely clawing my hand and thigh, swiping at my moving body parts through the blanket like this is a game instead of a desperate masturbation.
“You evil bitch!” I snap, and she leaps off me and scatters when I jump off my bed.
My eyes scan the room, but it’s like the little devil has disappeared. Cursing, I go and wrap my bleeding hand with some bandages, because I bleed much too liberally, and I don’t need to drip blood while jilling myself off.
The last thing I need is for my vagina to look like a damn gory porn film gone wrong.
Assuming Bananas ran out, I go and shut my bedroom door, then hastily resume my position on the bed.
It almost aches when I restart the process, angrily searching for the release I need before I kill someone, now that I’ve been teased and denied twice. The second I feel the tightening in my core and chills wash over my skin, the psychotic cat strikes again, and I scream as pain sears through my hand, once again robbing me just before I can reach the crest.
“You’re dead!” I screech as she flees from the bed.
Somehow my room door is open, as though it didn’t latch. Her tail is all I see running through the crack of the ajar door. “Dead!” I repeat, throwing on an abandoned pair of pajama shorts.
I don’t trust that damn cat around my vagina, so shorts are necessary.
Chapter 48
ETHAN
Bella’s car is in the driveway, and I head toward the door, debating knocking or abusing the entry code I changed and just walking on in. Walking in would prevent her from slamming the door in my face or—
“You evil bitch! I hate you!” I hear her yelling, pausing my internal argument with myself.
Who is she fighting with? I don’t see another car.
Something tumbles to the ground and crashes as someone races through the ho
use. Is she fighting?
No, no. Bella wouldn’t be fighting, would she?
“You’re going to die, you psychotic, bald pussy! And I’m going to eat you! You hear that? You’re what’s for dinner tonight!”
The fuck…?
I really hope that’s the cat she’s talking to, and not her vagina. Then again… Well, both options sound crazy.
Trying not to laugh, I push open the door, deciding not to knock. Bella is standing in the living room with a pan raised over her head, and her eyes scouring the floor until they reach my feet and slowly lift to meet my gaze. A glance shows me a messy bandage on her hand, but I’m more concerned with yet another weird thing my girl is doing.
My lips twitch as I cock an eyebrow at her. I also brace, ready to block the pan, in case she throws it at my head.
Something in her gaze changes, and she drops the pan to the floor with a loud clank before rushing toward me. This time, I brace for a physical attack. I won’t hurt her, so I’ll stop her from hurting herself if she tries to hit—
My words die in my head as she grabs the back of my neck and jerks me down, catching me off guard as our lips collide almost painfully. All thought ceases when she brutally kisses me like she’s starved, and she climbs up me until her legs are wrapped around my waist, tightly clenching me between them like she might cut me in half if I try to get away.
Not that I want to get away. This is definitely better than the reception I was expecting.
“Give me an orgasm now,” she demands against my lips, causing me to bite back a smile.
“As you wish, princess,” I say, grinning against her lips as I carry her to the bedroom.
“Kill that stupid fucking cat if she tries to interfere,” she tells me between kisses, which is too confusing to even address right now.
