"Red or white?" He asked, breaking into my daydream which featured him in nothing more than his black apron.
"Uh... red?" I blushed furiously, and although he eyed me suspiciously, Ethan said nothing while he poured me a glass of wine.
Taking a sip I smiled. The wine was a deep, saturated crimson-purple color, and slid satisfyingly to a warm rest in my belly. It was excellent.
"Its pinot noir," Ethan said over his shoulder as he dug about in the refrigerator. "It's what grown-ups drink."
"Oh hardy-har-har," I shot back, laughing. There was a twinkle in his silver eyes that belied the dry, sarcastic tone of his voice. "Do you want any help?"
Ethan chopped an onion with far more efficiency and skill than I was capable of. "No. I like to cook. You just sit there and look pretty, and stay out of the way."
I couldn't help but laugh.
Dinner was excellent; the best meal I've had in ages. Ethan grilled the salmon and served it with a lemon butter sauce so good I think I moaned out loud. There were little roasted red potatoes with garlic and rosemary, and asparagus brushed with olive oil and grilled alongside the fish. I ate hardily and made no apologies for it. We didn't speak much, but there didn't seem to be much to say.
"I'll clean up," I offered as I worked away at my second glass of pinot noir. The wine had sent a warmth spreading through my body, relaxing me and making me realize just how tired I was.
"No need," Ethan said, pushing our empty plates across the island and settling back onto his stool beside me. "It can wait. The food might rot, but the dishes won't."
I laughed. "How pragmatic."
Ethan shrugged, his solid shoulder brushed against my own. "I love to cook, but I hate to clean up."
"I don't mind the cleaning up," I confessed. "But I'm a lousy cook." I tried to picture just what was in my fridge at home: half a carton of skim milk, some ancient mustard, diet soda, and a sketchily aged chunk of cheddar which was more than likely home to some very alien mould spores.
It was Friday night, I'd gotten a lot accomplished at work that week, I was well fed, and drinking a glass of excellent wine. I was happy. Then the realization hit me with a jolt. Not only was I happy, I was happy sitting beside Ethan. Holy shit.
"Emma?" Ethan's voice broke into my thoughts; he seemed to have a knack for doing that. "Are you alright?"
I looked up at him. "Yeah, why?"
"You looked worried just then." He almost sounded concerned. I smiled faintly.
"I was thinking about what you said to me yesterday in the boardroom."
Ethan arched an eyebrow questioningly. "I said a lot yesterday in the boardroom. Maybe more than I should have."
My smile didn't fade. "You told me that I knew what you wanted and that you wouldn't bother me again.”
"And?" If Ethan was worried about the direction of our conversation he gave nothing away.
"So, I guess you could say that you left the ball in my court?"
Ethan nodded, taking a sip of his wine. "It's a cheesy expression, but yeah. I guess I did. What are you getting at Emma?"
I watched his face earnestly, desperately trying to find the chink in his façade. There was none. Ah, fuck it, I thought; I took a deep breath, leaned forward, and kissed him.
He tasted like wine and garlic, and I think I was in control for about two-seconds before Ethan took over, kissing me back with the skill and passion which I craved. Our tongues battled each other frantically while Ethan wound his hands up to grasp the back of my head. I clutched at his upper arms tenaciously, trying desperately to hold onto something solid as my head spun.
"Emma," Ethan gasped as we broke apart, our harsh, rapid breaths mingling.
"Is there somewhere more comfortable we could go?" I asked, sounding braver than I felt.
Ethan's eyes flashed silver. He took my hand and helped me down from my stool; my knees wobbled but held as he led me to the living room. We stood uncertainly before the wide windows which looked out over the city, just as we had two nights earlier, but this time I felt more confident. I wanted him; I wasn't going to deny either of us any longer.
I curled my arms around Ethan's neck, standing on tip toe to be closer to the soft curve of his lips. I pressed myself against him, surprised again by the solid breadth of his body. His erection was rock hard against me and I couldn't hide my smile of satisfaction.
"Emma," Ethan groaned, looking down at me with his inscrutable blue-grey eyes. "I don't think I can handle if you leave me like this again."
It was my turn to cock an eyebrow teasingly. "I wasn't planning on it."
"Good," he growled, running his hands possessively along the length of my spine, and down over my ass. His touch sent electric shivers through me. "If I don't have you soon, I just might explode."
I laughed deep in my throat, almost purring as Ethan's touch grew more ardent. He traced the gentle curve of my hips repeatedly, dipping again and again into the hollow of my waist before running once more over the round slope of my ass. It wasn't just my knees which felt weak; my entire body seemed to be melting underneath his touch.
We kissed again, an endlessly frantic exploration. Wordlessly Ethan invited me to be more aggressive, to meet his every demand with equal fervor. Willingly I let him lead me into unknown territory, the frighteningly exciting side of desire I'd read about but never felt. With every other guy, sex just seemed to be something to do; with Ethan it was something I had to do.
When he ran his hands over my breasts, seeking out my hardened nipples beneath my blouse, I just about came it felt so good. My shocked gasp of arousal must have been unexpected because Ethan broke the kiss to look down at me, his mouth curved into the cockiest smirk I'd ever seen. He ran his thumb lightly over my nipple again, chuckling deeply as I arched against his touch.
"You like that?" He asked huskily, repeating the action and getting the same result. I'd never felt so sensitive to a man's touch before in my life. "Take off your shirt."
It was an order, and voiced with enough command that it should have irked me, but I didn't seem to have the willpower to argue. Something in Ethan's voice made me want to bare my breasts for him. I unbuttoned my blouse slowly with trembling fingers. Ethan took a step back to watch but made no move to help me. I understood his motives; he wanted me to make the decision to do this. I could have said no, but I didn't.
I was secretly very happy I'd made the choice to wear a pretty bra that morning, and Ethan's eyes widened as my black lace bra was revealed. I knew he could see everything; the lace couldn't hide an inch of me. My nipples were painfully hard beneath the fabric; I wanted desperately for Ethan to touch them again.
He leaned forward to slide the crisp, cotton blouse from my shoulders, but only allowed it to travel halfway down my arms before he reached around behind me and twisted the fabric in his fist, pulling my arms snugly against my side and pinning me in place. I could feel the prickle of panic begin, but it was wiped out the second he bent his head to my lace covered breasts. His silvery eyes travelled appraisingly over my torso, taking in every curve and freckle before they flickered upward to meet my own. There was a flash of provocation in his stare which stole my breath and I waited silently for him to move.
Ethan seemed to be poised just over my right breast forever, the enticing curve of his mouth only a fraction from my nipple. I couldn't have put into words how badly I wanted him to lick me, even if I had been brave enough to do so. I was quickly becoming incapable of thought.
"You are incredible," Ethan whispered, his breath a hot tease against my flesh. I moaned wordlessly. "I've dreamt about this for so long. I want to taste you so badly."
I was whimpering without realizing it, my entire body flushed with desire. My heart beat was so rapid and Ethan so close to it, that he must have been able to hear me. My pinned arms fueled my excitement as Ethan drew the moment out skillfully.
"Please," I gasped, "Ethan, please."
"Be patient, Emma." His voice was hard, but there was an undercurrent of desire and I took a little comfort in knowing he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. With his free hand he skimmed along the plane of my stomach, his touch light; he chuckled as he raised goose bumps. "You have no idea how beautiful you are."
"Ethan."
"Patience," he ground out through clenched teeth, his silver eyes boring into mine. "You can't always have what you want." His lips were so close to my nipple I would only have to move a tiny bit to make them meet, but Ethan held me immobile. I watched breathlessly as his lips parted and the bright tip of his tongue appeared, but he paused shooting me another smug glance. I could feel the heat of his mouth so close to me; I wanted more, it wasn't enough.
My whimpering turned into a wail as Ethan passed just the tip of his tongue teasingly over my nipple. Through the lace of my bra the touch was muffled, but I didn't think I'd ever felt anything so good. I was panting with want, and completely unashamed of it. Ethan took another lick, slower and more deliberate. I watched mesmerized as he laved at my nipple, each wet pass dragging another cry from deep within my chest. I could feel the hot pooling of dampness in my panties, and could only vaguely wonder what Ethan would make of it once he discovered that.
Through heavily lidded eyes I watched Ethan run his tongue again over my nipple, stilling my frantic wiggling with a violent twist of his fist into the fabric of my shirt, pinning me more completely against his mouth. Then he leaned in even closer and took my nipple into his mouth; when he sucked on it, I came with a wail, held up only by Ethan's hands as my knees gave out.
Silently Ethan picked me up and deposited me gently on the sofa. My breathing came hard and fast, but I still managed a laugh as he eased himself down beside me. "Lesson number one?" I gasped breathlessly, still amazed that I could orgasm just from that.
Ethan's smile was calculating, and sent a shiver up my spine. I couldn't read his gaze, although the frankness of it made me blush. "Ready for lesson number two?" He growled huskily.
I nodded, wiggling my arms free of my confining blouse, and reaching back to undo my bra. I eased both from my body, watching Ethan watching me. His gaze was hungry, predatory; my breath came in audible gasps. Smiling, I reached for his trousers and traced the outline of his erection through the fabric. It jumped, Ethan moaned, and I laughed. I was most definitely ready for lesson number two.
"Sweet Jesus, Emma," Ethan growled as my finger traced his hard-on through his trousers.
I tried to hide my amazement. I hadn't seen it yet, but it was definitely big. I smiled saucily, liking very much having Ethan under my command even if it was only for a moment.
He reached out and grasped my wrist firmly, stopping my exploration. "Keep that up and we'll have a mess."
I laughed. "So is that lesson number two?"
Ethan arched an eyebrow, a sarcastic look etched on his handsome face. I reached up and ran my hands through the greying hair at his temples; his dark hair was soft.
"I'm not as young as I used to be, Emma." Ethan chuckled. "I've got to make this last as long as possible."
"You're not exactly old, Ethan," I chided.
"Well, I'm not exactly young either, and I don't want to rush this."
I nodded. Now that I'd had my first orgasm I wasn't in such a rush myself. I wanted to explore just as much as ever, but the urgency was gone; an aching sense of curiosity filled its place.
I shifted my position on the couch so I could curl up beside Ethan. He put an arm around me, fitting me automatically against the hard length of his torso. His hand wandered lazily up the length of my arm and played absentmindedly with an escaped tendril of my hair.
Ethan watched the progression of the curl through his slender fingers with hawk-like intensity. "I've never been with a redhead before," he confessed. "Where'd the red hair come from anyhow? I thought you were Hungarian."
"My Dad's Hungarian. My Mum is Irish."
"Which explains the temper," Ethan chuckled lowly.
"Temper? What temper?" I batted my eyelashes teasingly.
"You better be kidding," Ethan laughed, playing with the auburn curl. "Is all your hair red?"
I giggled, liking both the comfortable heat of Ethan's body and the impertinent note in his voice. "Yup."
"Really?" Ethan drawled slowly. "And to think, there are bets at work that you're not a natural redhead."
"Really?" I echoed, feeling a flash of my temper ignite. "The guys talk about me?"
Ethan nodded before leaning past me to pick up my discarded bra. "36 D," he read aloud, flicking the lacy black lingerie to the floor. "Looks like I win that pool, too."
I couldn't help but laugh, even though the thought of Ethan gossiping about me in lunchroom at work pissed me off. Somehow I knew he was teasing; he hated gossip.
"Cooled off a little yet?" I joked, feeling the heat of Ethan's gaze across my breasts.
"No," growled Ethan. "Not in the least. You?"
I shook my head.
"This is your last chance to change your mind, Emma." Ethan's voice was hard, but I was starting to recognize his coldness for what it was: a defense mechanism.
"I'm not leaving Ethan. You'll just have to put up with me."
Ethan traced a line of freckles across my abdomen, stopping just below the underside of my left breast. "I think I can manage that, if you can put up with me."
"I've gotten this far without decking you," I laughed. "I should be able to hold out for a few more hours."
"A few hours?" Ethan remarked snidely, "You're not going anywhere until Monday."
"Oh really?" I asked sarcastically. "What if I have plans this weekend?"
"Do you really have anything better to do than be with me?" Ethan's voice dripped with faked derision.
"Cocky ass bastard," I mumbled, trying not to laugh. "Now you're just trying to make me mad."
"Is it working?"
I pinched his arm. "You're an ass, do you know that?"
"And you're a brat, so we're even." Ethan's voice was low and right in my ear; it sent shivers straight to my toes.
I opened my mouth to reply but Ethan growled threateningly. "Just shut up for once, Emma. Please?"
I bit my lip, blushing.
Ethan traced the underside of my breast, running his fingers lightly over the rounded swell to my nipple. I moaned at the contact but said nothing. Ethan chuckled deeply into my hair and continued his exploration. Within minutes I was frantic for Ethan to take us one step further, but again he completely in control and in no hurry.
"You're wearing too many clothes," he rumbled harshly in my ear. "Take off your pants."
"What about you?" I countered teasingly; I was dying to see what was underneath the expensive shirt and tie.
"This isn't about me," Ethan shot back. "Take off your pants."
I obeyed silently, standing to remove my pinstriped trousers, my insides shaking.
"Leave the panties," Ethan commanded gruffly, watching me intently with his silver eyes. The expression on his face was intense, single-minded; I'd only ever seen the same look when he worked. My hands were trembling so badly I could hardly control them.
"Lie down."
I lay back on the couch, leaning away from Ethan. He drew my legs up onto his lap gently, caressing their humble length and peeling off my socks without words.
Under Ethan's probing gaze I felt beautiful, desirable. The lines of his face were stonily inscrutable, but his eyes flashed hotly and there was a small quirk at the corner of his mouth which gave him away; he was liking this, and liking it a lot.
Ethan lazily traced the outline of my body while I lay powerless under his touch.
"These are naughty," he murmured, running a finger across the edge of my panties.
"They match the bra," I gasped; he was so close to where I wanted him to be.
"I noticed." Ethan's voice was pitched lowly and edged with humor.
I laughed; I couldn't help it. The entire situation was absurd, really. Me, practically naked in front of the Dragon, and loving every minute of it; I never would have thought it possible.
Ethan's hand strayed down over the black lace of my panties, tickling the auburn curls beneath the fabric.
"You are a redhead," he chuckled. "I like it."
In My Office, Now. Page 5
