by Ami Snow
He looked nonplussed. “Are you?”
I frowned. “No. I’m interning in the city. The point still stands, though.”
He smiled. “Well, perhaps you’re right, I really shouldn’t have done that. But clearly the power of words wasn’t convincing you to let me buy you that drink.”
“I can buy my own drinks.” I felt a little hypocritical saying that, since I’d just let Brian put my first beer on his tab. This man was just so high-handed, though.
“I’m Ethan,” he said, holding out his hand. “Maybe we can start this interaction over?”
I reached out and shook his hand. He looked surprised at my grip. “I’m Elizabeth,” I said. “My friends call me Ellie.”
“Do I get to call you Ellie?”
I smirked. “I suppose I’ll have to find out if we’re going to be friends, first.”
“Maybe you should take that seat there, then.” He looked pointedly at the empty chair next to his.
“My friends are over there,” I protested, but at a quick glance, I could see that they weren’t hurting for my company at all. They were laughing and carrying on, and Catherine had moved into my spot next to Brian, although her body language was still clearly aimed at Tom. I knew neither Catherine nor Billie would have any compunction about ditching me for a while to talk to a guy. And as annoyingly full of himself as he appeared to be, I felt a strange desire to stay there and talk to him. I felt almost magnetized by him, as if there was nothing more appealing in the world than sitting there and drinking a beer with this man that I’d never met before five minutes ago.
I slid into the chair, and Ethan grinned as he took one beer from Tony and his drink, which appeared to be a Scotch, neat. “Send that other beer over to Paul Bunyan,” he said, and Tony nodded. “Will do.”
“How did you know whose it was?”
“He’s the only one with an empty drink.”
I laughed then, feeling slightly foolish. “I guess that was an easy enough guess.”
“Okay, here’s another one, then. You’re interning with the National Security Agency here…or maybe NASA? You seem like an engineering type.”
I shook my head, taking a long sip of my beer. “Not at all. I’m an accounting major.”
“Oh?” He looked interested. “I’m in business myself. Do you enjoy it?”
I nodded. “I do. It’s interesting to me. My mother has always been in marketing, so I guess you could say I’ve kind of grown up around it. I used to help her do the budget when I was a teenager, even though she had an accountant to do it all. She’d go over it with me—she said it was important to understand how finances worked.”
“Very smart,” Ethan said, taking a sip of his drink.
“Is that Scotch?” I asked, gesturing at the amber liquid in his glass.
“It is. Do you like Scotch?”
“I’ve only had whisky, but it tastes like ant spray to me…or at least what I’m pretty sure ant spray tastes like, anyway.”
He laughed. “You didn’t have good whisky, then. Here,” he said, proffering the glass. “Try it.”
I accepted it hesitantly, putting the rim to my mouth. The glass was warm where his lips had been, and I felt a sudden, sharp tremor of desire that was utterly unfamiliar to me. I glanced up at him as the liquid touched my tongue, and I was surprised to see his blue eyes darken as he watched me take a sip.
It was sharp and hot, sending a tingling sensation across my tongue and making heat blossom in my throat, but it wasn’t bad by any means. Certainly not comparable to what I’d had before. I handed the glass back to him, and my fingers trembled a little. He was still watching me, his gaze intent on my face, and I suddenly felt very self-conscious.
“You’re staring at me,” I murmured.
“Am I?” he asked, but he didn’t stop. “You’re very beautiful.”
“My friend said I looked like a librarian,” I retorted, unable to take the compliment. It was hard to believe, coming from a man who strongly resembled a short-haired Chris Hemsworth, right down to the way his arm muscles were pressing against the sleeves of his dress shirt.
“Your friend is very wrong,” he said, and he looked like he meant it. I took another sip of my beer, unsure how to respond.
“Are you staying with them while you’re here in D.C.?”
I nodded. “We sublet a row house for the semester.”
We talked for at least another hour. He seemed to take me seriously, asking questions about my classes and what I wanted to do after I graduated. His interest seemed genuine, and it only fanned the flames of the intense attraction that I was feeling.
I was entirely unaccustomed to being attracted to someone like this, and I honestly didn’t know how to handle it. Part of me felt uncomfortable and wanted to retreat, and the other part, the part that could tell that the attraction was mutual, wanted to call an Uber and immediately take him back to the house. I couldn’t do that, though…could I? It felt dangerous and completely out of character for me.
He’d just ordered another round of drinks for us when I heard Catherine’s voice behind me. She and the entire crew were standing there, and it was clear from her voice that she was on her way to being drunk. “Tom is taking us all to another bar,” she chirped. “Are you going to come?”
I paused. Brian looked somewhat irritated, as he was now the fifth-wheel in the group. Doubtless I’d wind up with him for the evening—even though I still had no intention of going home with him, and while I’d found him interesting and funny, I was having a fantastic time with Ethan. I didn’t really want to leave, and while usually I just followed along with the rest of the group, I decided tonight would be different.
“I think I’m going to stay here,” I said.
Catherine looked astonished. “Will you be okay getting back to the house by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine,” I assured her. “I can call an Uber from my phone, no problem.”
“Be safe,” Billie said, looking a little worried, but Catherine was already headed out, following Tom like a puppy. Billie and Eddie were right behind her, and Brian brought up the back, still looking miffed.
“Paul Bunyan doesn’t look too thrilled,” Ethan observed.
“I think he thought I was his for the night,” I said, taking a swallow of my beer.
“I think any man would be very remiss to assume that of you,” Ethan said, his eyes catching mine.
I was feeling the buzz from the three beers, not being someone who drank all that frequently, and I shook my head when Ethan offered to buy us another round. “I really think I should be getting home,” I said. “We have to go out tomorrow to get things for the house, and I’m sure Catherine and Billie will want brunch.”
“I really doubt they will be up all that early,” Ethan said, laughing. “I think they’ve got a lot of night ahead of them.”
I tended to agree, but I suddenly felt as if I needed to get home. “I’m sure you’re right. But still, I think it’s probably time to go.” I opened the Uber app on my phone, and Ethan shook his head. “My driver is right outside. I’ll give you a ride back.”
“Are you sure? It’s probably out of your way.” I was sure he lived in some high-rise in the middle of the city.
“It’s not a problem at all,” he assured me. He paid the check, and offered his hand as I slid out of the seat. “I feel that I should make sure that you get home safely.”
His car was waiting at the sidewalk, and his driver opened the door for us as we slid in. I tried not to look too ungraceful as I made my way across the seats to the far side. Ethan slid in next to me, and as the car pulled out into traffic after I gave the driver my address, he turned to look at me. “I really had a wonderful evening,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to meet someone tonight.”
“I wasn’t either,” I said honestly. His hand was approximately an inch from mine on the cool leather seat, and I wanted suddenly, very badly, to touch him. The driver hit a pothole in the road,
and my hand jarred on the seat, sliding towards his. I didn’t stop it.
His hand was warm, the skin smooth. As if he had been wanting the same thing, his fingers wrapped around mine, and suddenly he was pulling me towards him, across the seats. I felt my heart leap into my throat, my skin tingling, and his other hand was on my waist, and his lips were moving towards mine.
There was no part of me that wanted to stop him. His mouth was soft and warm, his lips pressing against mine, and they parted without thinking. His hand went from my waist to my hair, his other hand still gripping mine, and I felt his fingers thread through my hair, my head falling back against his hand as he kissed me. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I felt him groan slightly, the sound vibrating against my mouth as he pulled me closer.
My hand was on his thigh, my body pliable and willing as he pulled me into him, and suddenly I was in his lap, straddling him in the back of the car. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I had never been this wanton in my life. I was suddenly very aware that the driver probably knew what we were doing, but I didn’t want Ethan to stop kissing me. His hand was tangled in my hair, his other hand leaving mine and going to my waist, my hip, gripping my ass. I moaned and pressed my hips down, and I felt him then, rock hard, pressing against the juncture of my thighs.
I couldn’t stop myself. I rolled my hips, grinding on his erection, and he growled deep in his throat, both hands going to my ass then, pulling me hard against him as he kissed me. I was inches away from fucking him right there, in his car, with the driver just behind me. If I’d been wearing a skirt, I might have. The car suddenly pulled to a stop, against the curb in front of my house, and our mouths separated for the first time since he’d started kissing me. We were both panting, my body aching, my skin flushed. His hands were still on my ass.
“Do you want to come upstairs?” I asked breathily. I couldn’t imagine that he would say no.
“Fuck yes,” Ethan said, and the curse word sounded strange coming from a man so perfectly tailored…and at the same time, it was insanely hot. As if I’d undone all his propriety. “I thought you were going to make me ask nicely,” he breathed into my ear as I clambered, somewhat ungainly, off of his lap.
He opened the door himself. “You don’t have to wait, Bill,” he said to the driver. “I’ll text you when you need to come back.”
Chapter 3
I followed him out of the car, fumbling in my purse for my keys, hoping that no one else was back yet. To my great relief, all of the lights were off, and we stumbled through the house to my bedroom.
I closed and locked the door behind me, and before I could say or do anything else, Ethan had me pressed up against the door, his hands on my waist as his mouth crashed down on mine again.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I’d never felt so wildly sexual before, never felt this intense need to touch the skin of another person. I ached, and all I could think about was how much I wanted him inside of me, right that second.
He seemed just as urgent. He was hard against my thigh, the heat of him searing through his pants and mine into my flesh as my hands went to his shirt, tugging at buttons, slipping them loose. His hands were sliding under my sweater, and I cursed my practicality, knowing that I was wearing a very comfortable but entirely unsexy flesh-tone bra that I’d bought from a lingerie shop that specialized in bras for women with large busts. He didn’t seem to notice. His hands were hot against my skin, smoothing up my waist and pushing my sweater up as I finished undoing his buttons, sliding his shirt over his shoulders and tossing it to the floor.
We were mad with lust, grabbing kisses in between tugging at articles of clothing. His hands found my bra clasp and made short work of it, throwing the garment aside. He bent his head to my throat, his lips skimming the column of my neck, his teeth setting gently into my collarbone before his hand cupped my breast and his lips found my nipple, sucking it into his mouth as his tongue flicked over it.
I moaned aloud, my back arching, pressing myself into his mouth as my hands skirted over his shoulders, down his back, needing to touch him. I reached for the waistband of his pants, undid the clasp and pushed both pants and boxers down together, my hand wrapping around his stiff, hot shaft.
His groan of pleasure vibrated through my breast, and I pulled away, falling to my knees and grabbing his ass with one hand, pulling him closer as my mouth went to his cock. I’d only done this once before, and I hadn’t really liked it all that much. But something made me want him in my mouth. I slid my lips over the tip, flicked my tongue over it, tasted the salty liquid beading there. He was silky smooth, hard and throbbing between my lips, and the sounds that came from his mouth as his fingers wrapped in my hair sent shocks of pleasure through my body. He tasted good, warm and salty and clean, and I slid my mouth further, taking him deeper, until the tip was lodged in my throat and I had to slide back up, my tongue pressing into the underside of his shaft. I could feel the veins, pulsing against my tongue, and I slid down once more before I heard him groan and felt his hand grip my shoulder.
“For the love of god, Elizabeth, I’m going to come if you keep that up.”
I let him go then, wanting him…needing him to fuck me, and he sank down on the carpet, pressing me back into the floor. He undid my jeans, pushing them down, not even bothering to see what panties I had on before his hands were on my inner thighs, his fingers slipping between them.
I was beginning to believe that Victoria’s Secret was lying about the necessity of lingerie.
He was between my thighs then, his mouth going directly between them, and I realized what he was going to do. My heart pulsed in my throat, and I started to tell him no, that no one had ever done that to me before, and then I felt his tongue slide into the damp, hot place between my legs, and I couldn’t believe I’d never asked anyone to do this to me. I was definitely not a virgin, but it had never occurred to me to suggest to any of the college boys—all of whom requested blowjobs—that they go down on me.
His tongue was hot and pliable, sliding over me in long, slow strokes that made the muscles of my thighs tremble, and then all at once focused on my clit, flicking over it quickly until I felt that I was going to fall apart at any second.
“Tell me when you’re going to come,” he said, his voice deep and thick with desire. “I want to feel you around my cock when you do.”
The sound of his voice uttering those words drove me even closer to the brink, and when he sucked my clit between his lips, his tongue fluttering against me, I cried out: “Now, now, oh god, Ethan!”
He wrapped my legs around his waist and plunged into me, his cock stretching me as his fingers went to work on my clit. One hard thrust and the orgasm washed over me, my back arching and my muscles spasming. I could feel myself clenching around him, grabbing his cock as he buried himself inside of me. His fingers kept working on my clit until I grabbed his wrist and pulled it away, suddenly too sensitive for any touch at all.
He leaned forward then, his lips coming down gently on mine, and his thrusts slowed, suddenly going from hard and urgent to long, slow strokes in and out of me. My exquisitely sensitive flesh seemed to feel every ridge and vein as he thrust, and I arched against him, my breasts pressing into his chest as he kissed me and I moaned into his mouth.
I hadn’t known sex could be this good. My body was thrumming with pleasure, the aftershocks of the orgasm still rolling over my skin as I felt the next one building. The carpet was rough under me, the abrasiveness of it only adding to the overall experience. His hands were on my upper arms, pinning me as he began to move faster, and he groaned against my lips. “I can’t last much longer, Elizabeth. Oh god,” he murmured, and I felt his hips buck and his body stiffen. “Oh, fuck!” he said aloud, and then he began to pound into me, his thrusts hard and fast and he pressed his pelvis down into mine, the bone rubbing against my clit, and suddenly I was coming, and a second later I felt him, hard and hot inside of me, and his face buried in my neck as his hips bu
cked and he let go of my arms, pressing his hands hard into the carpet on either side of my head.
There were several moments of silence as the pleasure drained out of us, and he lay against me, our skin hot and sweaty. Finally, he rolled away, and I sat up. “Maybe a shower?” I suggested, and he nodded, following me into the bathroom.
I stood with my back to him, waiting for my breathing to return to normal as we stepped into the hot shower, the water sluicing over us both. I could feel it stinging the small abrasions on my shoulders and ass from the carpet, and he slid his hands over my waist. I heard him open the shampoo bottle, and a moment later his fingers were in my wet hair, his hands lathering the soap into my scalp, and I moaned in bliss, leaning back against him as he turned the showerhead and sluiced the water through my hair.
I turned, rubbing soap over his skin as he washed his own hair, feeling the ripples of his muscles under my fingers. It was strangely intimate to be showering with a man that I’d only met a few hours before. I rubbed my hands over his thighs, and his cock began to swell again, thickening as my hand brushed past it.
He did the same to me, rubbing soap over my skin, pausing as his hands went over my breasts, his fingertips skimming my nipples. I took a step towards him and felt his cock brush against my thigh, hard again, and the tip of it poked between my legs, seeking me out.
He leaned down to kiss me, one hand sliding down my hip, reaching under my thigh. I raised my leg up, propping my foot on the small seat in the shower, and he growled low in his throat, grabbing my ass with one hand and his cock with the other, angling it up into me.
I gasped at the sensation of him inside of me again, my sensitive flesh parting for him, and I opened my mouth under his, letting his tongue slide between my lips as his cock thrust into my body. He felt thick and hard, each stroke so pleasurable it was nearly painful. His mouth went to my neck, nipping at the skin, his free hand reaching for my breast, pinching my nipple between his fingers.
