‘Yeah. Sleep with supermodels—that kind of thing.’
He laughs. ‘How boring the reality must seem.’
I grin. ‘You’re not boring, Mr Ash.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, Miss Douglas.’
He moves closer and so do I, drawn as ever by that inevitable pull. He smells insanely good. It is dark outside now, and his hotel room is warm. I know I will need to leave soon, get home and get ready for work the next day, but I am reluctant to bring our weekend to an end.
I should be worried by that, but I cling to our agreement and trust in my own strength. He’ll go, and I’ll be fine.
I ignore the strange presentiment of emptiness that fills me.
‘I have a question for you.’
I lift myself up and straddle him, smiling at his immediate look of desire. At the way I feel him harden beneath me.
‘I’m yours. Ask me anything.’
My laugh is soft and husky. ‘Anything? Hmm... Maybe I don’t want to waste that on this question.’
‘You can ask me anything. Again and again.’
His generosity, sweetness and openness are beautiful.
But didn’t I feel that about Jeremy?
‘You’re amazing. I can’t believe I got so lucky as to have you in my life. Ally, marry me. Please. I want to spend every morning waking up beside you...’
God!
An acidic taste permeates my mouth. I focus on Ethan beneath me. Ethan who’s holding my hands. Ethan who’s pulling me into his world with no expectations or strings.
‘Where does Grayson go when you’re up here?’
‘Grayson?’ He pulls a face. ‘I don’t know if I want to think about him right now.’
I grin. ‘Sorry. I was just wondering if he’s, like, sitting outside the door, waiting for you to call.’
‘He has a room on the same floor,’ Ethan says after a small beat of time.
‘And how does it work? If you go out you text him and he has to stop whatever he’s doing...?’
‘I try to give him notice if I’m changing the schedule.’
‘And he’s your bodyguard?’
‘Yeah. Technically he’s my driver, but he’s ex-military, ex-cop, a martial arts expert. You wouldn’t want to be on his bad side.’
‘Wow. I had no idea.’
‘Plus, I trust him completely. He’s been with me for over seven years.’
‘He doesn’t have family?’
Ethan shakes his head slowly. ‘He was married once.’
‘It didn’t work out?’
Ethan looks over my shoulder. And despite the fact that he said I could ask him anything I sense that he’s feeling awkward about betraying his friend’s trust.
I lean forward and hover my lips just above his. Close enough that I can feel his breath but not touching him. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s not my business.’
‘It’s no secret,’ he murmurs, not attempting to bring himself closer.
But then he shifts his hips a little, so I feel his hard cock between my legs. Desire shreds me. How can I want him again? All we have done today is touch, kiss, feel, make love, doze, eat and repeat. Suddenly the thought of going days without being able to have him whenever I want is anathema.
All the more reason for me to get the hell out of Dodge and prove to myself that I can live without the wonder that is Ethan Ash.
‘She died.’
It’s ice water on my flaming needs. ‘What? Who?’
‘Grayson’s wife. Matilda. A car crash.’
‘Oh, God. That’s awful.’
‘Yeah. It was years ago. Before I knew him. But so far as I know he hasn’t dated since.’
‘That’s so sad,’ I murmur, thinking of Grayson’s faithfulness to his wife.
‘There’s no guarantees in life, right? You just have to make the most of what you’ve got. Every day.’
He buzzes his lips over mine, lightly, sweetly, just so I get the faintest hint of him before he pulls away.
‘Speaking of Grayson—are we going to be needing him tonight?’
I arch a brow. ‘Threesomes aren’t really my thing.’
‘Then you’re missing out,’ he teases. ‘I meant do we need him to take you home?’
I draw my brows together and his finger lifts to the little divot between my eyes.
‘I want you to stay,’ he pushes on, the words roughened, ‘but I presume you’re going to do your disappearing act sometime soon?’
‘Right.’
I nod, but my body is screaming at me to stop being so stupid. What harm will it cause if I’m late in tomorrow? I can stay here. Spend the night in his bed and then cab it home early. It’s no biggie, right?
But then what? Two nights in a row is habit-forming, and I will not let this become a habit. Even if Ethan Ash is more addictive than any substance on earth.
‘I’ll get a cab,’ I murmur.
‘Stay.’ He pushes his fingers into my hair and draws my mouth to his, his kiss one of promise and pleasure.
I surrender to it on a sigh. ‘A little longer.’
A little longer...
I fall into his kiss. I have been wearing a shirt of his all day. He pushes at the fabric, lifting it up, and I obligingly raise my arms, making it easier, so that I am straddling him wearing only a flimsy pair of lace panties. His mouth drops to my breasts and I cry out as his tongue rolls over the flesh that is already so sensitive. His fingers run down my back and there is something so reverential in his touch, as though I am an object he was born to worship, that I feel a strange emotion lurch inside me.
His hands slip beneath the elastic of my underwear and he cups my ass, pulling me closer to him. I press myself down. Were it not for the barrier of clothing we would be together, and I want that.
I want everything.
It is never enough.
Should I have known that from the beginning?
Should I have understood how dangerous it is to play with fire?
Probably.
Would it have stopped me?
I doubt it.
This is as inevitable as day following night, autumn embracing winter. I want him, but I want more than that. I want to make him lose his mind as much as I am losing mine.
I pull away from him with regret, and he makes a sound of frustrated confusion. I drop to the floor between his legs and loosen his belt, my eyes holding his as I pull it from his jeans and then unclasp his button and zip.
He knows what’s about to happen and he doesn’t move. He stares at me, as lost in the moment as I am.
He is rock-hard and I bring my mouth to his tip first, encircling him with my tongue, my eyes locked to his as I tease him with what’s to follow.
He keeps his hands by his sides, balled into fists, his expression one of determination.
‘Something wrong?’ I smile as I take him deeper, rolling my tongue over him as I guide him to the back of my mouth.
‘Fuck...’ He shakes his head.
But as I move my mouth up and down, he moans my real name, low in his throat.
‘Alicia... You are perfect.’
I’m not.
We’re not.
But this is.
Our bodies might well have been forged with this in mind. They are perfectly designed to please one another. It has never been like this for me. Not with anyone before Jeremy, and not even with Jeremy.
What we shared was good once. But it was borne of love and friendship and knowing one another.
This is different.
It’s indefinable.
At least for me.
I wonder if it has ever been like this for him. If it was like this with Sienna. Or anyone else. Has there been anyone else for him?
I know they were toget
her a long time...
These are questions I want answered, but not now. Now I want to experience this moment to the full.
I bring one hand to cup him around his base and I roll him further back in my mouth. He lifts his hands over his head and slides lower on the sofa, giving me more access, and I taste a hint of him in my mouth.
He drops a hand to my hair, and another to my shoulder, and I know why. He wants me to stop before he finishes.
But the power is thrilling. I take him deeper and he lets out a groan. And then he moves, sliding across the sofa, out of my grip. He moves quickly, dropping onto the floor beside me at first, and then he is behind me. He straddles me, his chest to my back, the weight of his body bending me over the sofa so that my face is flat against the cushions. He’s so deep, and my body welcomes him as its master returning.
His fingers find my nipples and he teases them, pulling at them, cupping my breasts, his fingers callused against my smooth skin.
I swear low in my throat as he pushes into me again, harder, faster, and then he drops one hand to my clit and moves his fingers over me. I explode. It is fast, it is intense, and I am loud. I cry out with no care for who hears me. Pleasure rips through me like a hurricane.
I kneel straight up, arching my back, but that just gives him better access. To my breasts, to my body, and then his mouth is on my throat, kissing me as his harder-than-granite dick controls me.
I am his.
I am completely his.
‘Your mouth on me is the fucking hottest thing ever.’
‘No...’ I shake my head, trying to find his lips. It’s too awkward the way I’m positioned. ‘This is.’
He laughs—a sound of dangerous desire. He brings his hand around to my ass and then to the small of my back. He presses down with enough strength to bend me over the sofa again. I do not even dream of resisting. I am on a ride of his creation and it is a good ride.
The best.
He holds my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh in a way that is deliciously painful, and he drives into me, thrusting and finding every single nerve inside me. My body is melting. His fingers run over my flesh, across the curves of my ass, and I moan as he moves inside me.
Heaven is a place and it’s right here—in the middle of the Gramercy Park Hotel.
* * *
It is midnight when I surface from the haze of our sensual exploration. My body is heavy with lust and liquid heat. Ethan is asleep beside me. I roll over, staring at him, watching the rhythmic intake of his breath, the gentle exhalations, and I smile at his beauty in repose. At the way he looks younger somehow. And so handsome.
I don’t want to go. Which is all the more reason why I must.
I slide sideways slowly, pulling myself out from under his arm. I’m almost there. But when I’m right at the edge of the bed his fingers clamp around my upper arm and he pulls himself closer to me.
‘Stay, baby,’ he murmurs, the words husky and coated in sleep and dreams.
‘I can’t.’ I shouldn’t.
‘Stay.’ His eyes blink open groggily and land on my face.
And I weaken completely. I nod, smile and wriggle a little closer.
One more night won’t hurt.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘IS THAT YOUR PHONE?’
I barely hear him through the haze of sleep. I am naked in his bed, my limbs heavy, my hair a tangle across my back. I push up onto my elbows and look at him quizzically, before realising that, yes, my phone is ringing.
‘Oh. Sorry.’ I reach for it and cringe when I see my mother’s face.
I swipe it to answer at the same time as I push out of his bed, grabbing one of the hotel bathrobes and wrapping it around me, cinching it in at the waist.
‘Hi, Mom.’
I move out of his bedroom and into the lounge, slipping a pod into the machine on autopilot.
‘Alicia Jane Douglas. Would you mind telling me what the hector you’re doing?’
‘I’m making coffee,’ I say only half-jokingly. ‘Where’s the outrage in that?’
‘Young lady, I’m serious.’
Young lady? Uh-oh. In my mom’s native tongue that’s really, really serious. It sobers me.
‘What about? What’s happened?
‘“Ethan Ash isn’t wasting any time moving on from Sienna Di Giorgio after her shock engagement to Tom Banks. The Grammy award-winning star was seen leaving his hotel with the same mystery woman he was spotted out and about with in SoHo last week. Could romance be on the cards for the heartbroken singer?”’
I grab the coffee cup out of the machine and stare at it, my heart racing. ‘What is that?’
‘It’s in the papers,’ she hisses. ‘I’ve had a photographer come to my house. This morning!’
Worse and worse. My mother believes calling on someone before midday is just plain rude. I grimace.
‘I’m sorry, Mom. It’s... It’s not like it sounds.’
‘Alicia, your father and I have barely recovered from your last run-in with poor decision-making. We’ve hardly lived down the reputation of what you did then. And now this article? Your father is the minister of this town, missy. How the hector is he going to explain this to his congregation?’
Colour flames my cheeks and a noise behind me alerts me to Ethan’s presence.
‘The same way he did last time,’ I say, not caring that Ethan’s there. ‘What I do has nothing to do with you or him. You can say what you want. Disown me.’
‘It’s not that simple. You are, in fact, our daughter. You moved to Manhattan and assured us you wouldn’t be changed by it. That you’d be the same good girl we raised. And now you’re sleeping with married men and celebrities?’
Pain lashes through me. Because even my mother can see that being with Ethan falls into the same category of foolhardy as my relationship with Jeremy.
‘It’s okay, Mom. This isn’t a big deal.’
‘It’s a big deal to me! And to your father!’
Invoking Daddy is another sign that she’s seriously pissed off.
‘So? Who is this man? Did you really spend the night in his hotel?’
Argh! Possibly the least comfortable conversation of my life and Ethan Ash is watching me, one shoulder propped against the doorframe, his eyes resting on me with undisguised interest.
‘It’s not serious,’ I say slowly, and then wince.
‘Not serious? You’re giving your body to a man and it’s not serious? Good Lord, who are you? I think it’s time for you to come home. Spend some time with your father and me, remember how we raised you.’
‘Mom...’ I shake my head. ‘It’s okay. My immortal moral soul is not in jeopardy.’
Ethan laughs—just a soft sound, but it pulls at me. It pulls at me in a way that makes me need him. Not sexually, though. I need him to hug me.
Everything is spinning out of control—and the irony is that it’s because of him yet I want him to fix it.
‘You’re laughing at me.’ My mother sniffs.
‘I’m not, Mom, I’m really not. But I’m twenty-five years old. I think I can be trusted to handle my own life.’
‘You had an affair with a married man!’ she exclaims, and I cringe, squeezing my eyes shut. ‘You brought him home to us. You clearly aren’t handling your life.’
‘I had no way of knowing that,’ I remind her softly. Her outrage hurts. The facts of my situation were all she cared about, and not the extenuating circumstances—like Jeremy’s psychopathy. Nor the fact that there was no way for me to know that my ‘fiancé’ was a married father of two!
‘I want you to come home.’
‘No.’ I square my shoulders. ‘I know you’re worried about me, Mom. But I’m fine. I’ll... I’ll come for Christmas, okay?’
I instantly regret the promise, but it does
its job and mollifies her.
‘And, please, Alicia. No more photographs in the national papers. Your daddy has a reputation to think of.’
I disconnect the call and then hurl my phone onto the sofa, wishing I could throw something else.
‘Trouble?’
‘Yeah!’ I snap, sipping my coffee.
My fingers are shaking. With exasperation, I place the cup down on the coffee table and move towards the window, staring out at Manhattan.
‘Your mom doesn’t approve of me?’
‘She doesn’t approve of me,’ I correct softly.
He wraps his arms around my waist and I close my eyes, leaning back against him, taking strength from his proximity, allowing myself to surrender to this.
‘Because of him?’
‘Jeremy.’
I say his name and it is as though I am invoking his spirit. I shiver at the fact that I’ve done that—that I’ve brought him into this room by speaking his name.
‘They didn’t like him?’
My lips twist in disagreement. ‘Oh, they liked him fine.’
My voice is hoarse. It isn’t the past I fear. It’s confessing to the part I played. Guilt at what I did, even when I know that I didn’t knowingly enter into an affair, colours me. I don’t want Ethan to see me as I see myself.
I don’t want him to know what I’ve done.
And yet the burden of this guilt is a weighty confession that will only be lightened by speaking.
He seems to understand. He is quiet, waiting, giving me a chance to speak.
‘They thought he was a good, sensible choice.’ I sigh. ‘He was a banker. Educated. Wealthy. Conservative. Everything they wanted for their little girl.’
Ethan’s lips buzz my cheek and a heavy smile passes over my lips.
‘But it didn’t work out?’ he prompts after a moment.
‘No.’
It’s a whisper. He spins me around to face him, keeping his hands on my waist, his eyes locked to mine.
‘Why not?’
I’m back in the past. ‘The first time I met him I was just...just blown away.’
A muscle jerks in Ethan’s jaw but I barely notice it.
‘We were at an art auction and we were bidding on the same piece.’ My face is shadowed with the memories I have suppressed for so long. ‘I won the piece. He won the prize.’ A pause. ‘That’s what he used to say. And you know what the worst thing is?’
Burn Me Once Page 13
