by C. M. Owens
Sighing, I take a seat and listen to Ethan sound like a commanding, responsible, and hella sexy businessman as he continues to talk on the phone. His voice is steady, authoritative, and confident, as though he knows exactly how to handle anything and everything.
That voice is the one that makes me always feel safe and protected. Usually I’m the protector, so I don’t think I ever realized how it felt to be protected until him.
Something else? I sleep now. All night. I sleep until the alarm goes off and I have to get up. But only when I’m with Ethan.
My things have comfortably found residence in his bathroom and closet, as though they’ve always been there. Even my pots and pans have managed to wiggle into his cabinets, since he barely had anything to cook with.
While he talks, I head into the kitchen to make something to eat, since I barely had time to scarf down some fruit at lunch. Ethan must hear me clanking around, because he comes up just as I toss some chicken in a pan, and one arm wraps around my waist as he continues to talk on the phone.
“No, don’t let him know you’re considering Phillip’s company. There’s bad blood there and it could disrupt you buying in,” he tells whoever it is he’s talking to.
He kisses the top of my head as I work on cooking, and I lean back against him as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. We’re meeting the guys for drinks tonight, and Ethan is having a party tomorrow.
I don’t know how I feel about this gorgeous house enduring another party after pretending it’s my home for two weeks. It almost feels like an invasion to have strangers come in and trash the place without any concern or regard to the people who live here.
But it’s Ethan’s house; not mine. It’s what he wants at this point in his life, and I’m prepared to weather the storm, because he’s sure as hell worth it.
“Hey,” he says softly against my ear, even though I can hear the other person on the phone talking excitedly.
“Hey,” I say back, melting against him when he leans over more and kisses my cheek.
“You smell so good,” he says in a soft, deep rumble, not seeming to mind my wet hair.
“Just showered,” I say, as though it’s not obvious.
“Yeah,” he says. “Do that, and he’ll be putty in your hands.” And he’s back to talking into the phone.
I smile, impressed by how easily he can pretend to devote all his attention to someone else even as he’s kissing his way up my cheek to my ear again.
“I missed you,” he says against my ear, taking a deep breath as I turn my head toward him and smile.
His lips brush mine, but he doesn’t get to deepen the kiss, because he’s back to telling the person on the phone what to do, step by step. However, he doesn’t leave me. His body stays pressed against mine, just like it does for the majority of the time that I’m here.
When I’m not at work, Ethan is coiled around me, showing me more attention than I think I’ve ever had. It’s like he’s just drowning in this as much as I am, loving the closeness of it all.
I expected a lot of fighting and craziness. I never pictured how easy we would blend together and coexist. In fact, I think living together is easier than living apart, even if my heart is steadily falling deeper and deeper for the guy I never saw coming.
As the chicken finishes, I grab two plates, and then reheat some leftover asparagus from last night. Ethan follows me, finally getting off his phone.
“I swear, he’s never going to learn to run the company if he calls me with every new deal they want to close.”
“Do you ever miss it?” I ask him as he grabs a couple of glasses and helps me get things ready.
“Honestly? I did… Then you moved in, and I don’t miss it anymore. I don’t like being bored, and you sure as hell keep things interesting,” he says, pulling me closer before his lips find mine in the kiss I’ve been wanting since I left for work this morning.
I kiss him back, trying not to overanalyze his words. I don’t want to just be someone to pass the damn time with, but I really don’t think he meant it like that. I hope.
“How was work?” he asks when he breaks the kiss.
I sit down, scowling, as my good mood vanishes. His lips twitch as he sits down too, eyeing me like he can’t wait for me to spill.
“Julia is a fucking bitch. I’m sick of working with her. Today, she and I got into it, and because she lies without any problem at all, I was the one who got in trouble. Can you freaking believe that?” It’s a rant, but I don’t care.
He doesn’t look as passionately affronted on my behalf as he should. “Look, I really don’t do the whole chick drama thing, because I have a dick and not a va—” He swallows his words when I glare daggers at him. “That fucking bitch,” he deadpans instead. “How dare she.”
It’s hard not to laugh, especially when he holds a straight face, despite the humor I see in his eyes.
“Cute,” I say, rolling my eyes when it’s impossible to restrain my smile.
When he flashes a grin at me, my bad mood dissipates. The rest of the meal contains normal conversation… until he mentions the party tomorrow and I tense.
Ethan may not mind a hundred strangers touching his things, but I have a major complex about it. It’s his house though. I keep reminding myself of that. I’m a guest, and nothing else.
Biting my tongue like a good guest, I force a smile. He goes on, talking about the four kegs—four!—that will be arriving tomorrow morning. Again, I nod and smile. It’s what I do when he talks about his one bad habit.
By the time we’re finished eating, I’m ready to go hang out with everyone.
He stands and starts cleaning up, and I help him, staying with the rhythm we’ve found too easily. He kisses me again just as I turn on the dishwasher, and my back hits the counter behind me.
When he lifts me, I wrap my arms around his neck, enjoying how right it all feels to have his hands on me. It’s too easy, too effortless, and it makes it too hard not to fall a little deeper with each passing day.
I don’t protest when he starts stripping me out of my clothes, and he helps me push his away, since my countertop position restricts some of my reach. By the time he’s thrusting into me, I’m holding back things I shouldn’t say, things that would show him everything going on inside me.
By the time he’s finished with me, I’m still working hard not to tell him every girly emotion going on inside me, filled to the brim with things I wish I wasn’t too scared to say. I blame it on the multiple orgasms. Everything is always harder to contain after orgasms.
Ethan presses his forehead against mine, opening his mouth as though he’s going to speak, when his phone starts blaring music. He curses before pulling out of me, and I gather my wits, promising to myself not expose too much.
He’s still a party boy, and I’m supposed to be waiting it out until he’s ready for more. As he answers the phone, I go to clean up and start getting ready to meet the others, running a straightener through my mostly dry hair now.
When Ethan joins me in the bedroom, he looks like he’s annoyed.
“The plumber is finally coming over to start the job tomorrow. He said it’ll take him about four days to finish up, unless he runs into any problems.”
Disappointment hits me unexpectedly, and I try to swallow down the inane emotion. I knew this was temporary, but it felt so real and I don’t want to give it up now.
“Alright,” I force myself to say.
Ethan doesn’t look me in the eye, but he comes up behind me, pressing against me. It feels like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses the top of my head, and walks out to go get ready, while I try not to call the plumber and beg him to take his time.
It’s ridiculous to feel like we’re taking a step back, when really this was only ever temporary. I blame the orgasms again when I feel like moping. I really have to get a handle on myself, because while Ethan may be ready for a monogamous relationship, he’s not ready for
the sort of commitment that comes with living together. And really, we’ve only been together for a couple of months, so it’s way too soon.
Too soon, yeah. Tell that to the irrational part of my mind that is screaming at me to tell him things I shouldn’t be feeling.
Chapter 51
ETHAN
The party wasn’t as much fun as I’d hoped it would be, and that was a few days ago. Bella spent most of the night locked in our bedroom—my bedroom, rather. Not ours. Fuck. Why does it feel wrong to let her go back to her house?
She claimed to have a headache, but I could tell she just didn’t want to be there with everyone crowding up my house. In truth, I lost interest way too early, and ended up joining her in the bedroom, leaving the party to security as I lost myself in my girl all night instead.
Hence the reason I know the headache was bullshit, because she willingly took all I had to give for hours, and if I had been capable of more, she would have taken that too. Insatiable vixen.
And the fucking plumber finished early, so today she’s moving back to her house. Like the bitch I am, I’m helping her move her shit back in, even though I really don’t fucking like it.
I got used to having her with me all the time. Never realized that sort of shit could be fun, but I actually liked watching her cook and eating at the table together like a scene from a family sitcom. I also got used to my house smelling like her, and having her in the shower with me. Now there’s a ton of space on my bathroom counter, and it just looks pretty damn pathetic.
“You going to be able to sleep without me?” I joke, trying not to admit I’m the one who is going to miss having her coiled around me every single night with her head pillowed on my arm or chest.
She gives me a half-hearted smile that seems strained, and I wonder if she’s dreading this too. Would it be stupid to try and move her back in with me?
Shit. I spent forever fantasizing what freedom would be like, and then Bella came along and fucked up all my long-laid plans. Now it’s like I’m addicted to her or something, and it’s just not as much fun without her.
“I had no idea I took so many things to your place,” she says instead of answering me, looking around at the numerous boxes and suitcases we’ve scattered about her house. “And it feels like my house shrunk after being in your big one for so long,” she adds jokingly, trying to lighten my mood.
It doesn’t work.
I hate this, and I have no idea what to do about it.
Moving her in with me seems ridiculous to even attempt on a real, long-term basis. But I had no idea how right it would feel, and now it’s not easy to give up.
It was almost three weeks, but it feels like years—in a good way. Bella actually gets me—all of me. And she’s the first person to ever act like all of me is exactly what she wants—minus the partying, of course, but that’s just a hobby and not actually a part of me.
Blowing out a breath, I go to tilt her head back, brushing my lips over hers. I’m so damn confused that it’s not even funny right now.
“We should head over to Rain’s,” she says on a long sigh as I withdraw from her.
Yet another cookout. It seems my friends love their mellow nights, and sadly, I’ve started enjoying that more than the parties I’ve looked forward to for years. Not that I’ll admit that aloud, because I’d never hear the fucking end of it.
Maybe a night with them will distract me from the hellaciously confusing thoughts Bella has stirred by leaving my house. For some reason, I’m a little pissed at her, as though she’s breaking up with me instead of just simply moving back to her house. It was temporary. So why does it feel like she’s leaving me instead of absolving the temporary arrangement?
I need a fucking drink. Now.
“Yeah. Grab your stuff, and I’ll drive.”
“I’ll drive us home if you want to drink,” she states, falling back in step with our easy flow, even though we’re not in the same house.
“Why don’t you ever drink?” I ask her as we walk out.
“I sometimes do,” she says with a shrug as I open my car door for her to get in on the passenger side.
She waits until I’m seated behind the wheel to continue.
“I just lost interest in getting drunk after Allie had Angel. I always wanted to be someone she could depend on if she needed me. I have to be in the mood to get drunk in order for it to happen, and I haven’t had that mood lately.”
I just nod like I understand, even though I don’t. With the exception of Rye, none of my friends have ever tried to rely on me for anything. And Rye only needed someone who could take a punch when he was so full of rage and sought an outlet.
He needed to hit something, and I needed to feel pain—since it was all I could feel at that time. Until I discovered sex also works, of course. Obviously I didn’t do that with Rye. Pain was always a substitute after that.
My inner ramble halts when Bella leans over and rests her head against me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Yeah… I really don’t want her to fucking move out. It’s tempting to pay someone to go back and move all her shit into my house while we’re over at Rain’s.
Deciding that’s insane, I push the thought out of the forefront of my mind, ignoring the corner it has been shoved in. Somehow, Bella came in and took over everything, becoming the thing I want the most instead of everything I thought I’d want.
And I have no fucking clue what to do about it.
Chapter 52
BELLA
Ethan’s arms are wrapped around my waist, and I’m leaning against him as Allie talks to me. His chin is resting on my head, but he stays quiet as Allie and I discuss the hospital drama I’ve been enduring, cementing her decision not to return to that scene.
She looks so happy, always smiling. I know Wren plays a huge part in that, and I love him like a brother for that, even if he has seen a picture of me mostly naked and choking on a banana while demonstrating a blowjob for Allie. Sheesh.
“Ethan, come check this out,” Wren calls, and Ethan releases me with what feels like some reluctance.
“I’ll be right back,” he says before kissing the top of my head and going to see what Wren wants.
Corbin and Tag are with him, both of them watching something on Wren’s phone and laughing. I watch until Ethan joins them, and his annoyed expression smooths into a genuine smile.
“I’d say this is definitely getting serious.” Allie’s words break me out of my staring trance, and I clear my throat while facing her again.
She’s giving me a knowing grin, and I roll my eyes.
“He’s not a thief, cheater, or much of a liar, so I guess I judged him wrong,” I say with a shrug.
“He’s also a party boy who is slowly being domesticated. Wren was just saying how Ethan blew off poker night because you two had plans the other week.”
Frowning, I try to think of anything we had planned, but nothing comes to mind.
“It means he didn’t feel like leaving you for a few hours to play some cards,” Allie informs me with a teasing lilt when I grow silent.
My smile tries to skitter across my face, but I fight to restrain it. Yeah, it feels good he chose me over the guys, but I’m an idiot like that these days.
“So how does it feel?” Allie asks me when I get lost in thought.
“How does what feel? Being with Ethan?” I ask, trying to play off the fact I’m drowning in knee-deep water.
In case you’re wondering, that means I’m drowning instead of standing up and taking a breath the way I should.
“No,” she says, smirking. “I mean, how does it feel to have that fabled magic pussy you once spoke of?”
Maverick strangles on air nearby, and stumbles, and I watch with fascinated horror as he trips over his own feet and splashes into the pool. Laughter pours out of everyone around, including Allie and me, as he surges to the top, choking and spitting out water while glaring in our direction.
Serves him right, con
sidering the demon cat he forced on me.
“Damn you,” he gripes, but then a grin splits his face as he swims closer. “What’s a magic pussy?”
Allie blushes fiercely as I try and fail not to laugh, and she turns to me with wide eyes. “I said that too loud, didn’t I?” she hisses.
“I’m waiting,” Maverick drawls.
“Fuck off,” Ethan tells him, rejoining us as his arms wrap around my waist and he draws me to him, pressing his lips to mine as though he’s reminding Maverick who I’m with.
Not that it needs stating, because Maverick and I are just friends. However, I let him make the statement because I love kissing him.
“I was just asking a question,” Maverick defends, mocking indignation.
“I don’t like you so close to my girl, considering you have the same taste in women,” Ethan says jokingly, but there’s still a warning edge to his voice.
He kisses me again, this time letting things get out of control, and I forget there’s a yard full of people as I melt against him.
When whistles and mocking laughter taunt us, Ethan breaks the kiss and flips everyone off. It feels so perfect that something is bound to go wrong.
“Besides,” Ethan says to Maverick while grinning mischievously at me, “she left me with a gnarly rash, so I don’t think you want to chance that.”
My eyes widen as Maverick bursts out laughing, falling back into the pool he must have just climbed out of, and everyone else starts doubling over as well, as the laughter turns against me.
I glare at Ethan, who simply smirks and winks at me.
“You’re such an asshole,” I grumble, rolling my eyes and hating the fact I’m unable to stop myself from smiling.
He waggles his eyebrows, his grin growing. “But you still love me.”
The second the words leave his mouth, I see the regret on his face as he pales. My breath freezes in my lungs, and my body turns to stone. Awkward silence fills the ever-growing void between us, and it feels like there’s suddenly a presence between us, pushing us apart.
