Bad in Bed

by Faye Avalon

  His low groan gave her ridiculous pleasure and she increased the pressure of her hand.

  “You keep doing that, green eyes, and I’m going to come in my pants right here in the street.” His low tone sounded sexy as it echoed off the silence of the cobbled street.

  Amber kept up the delicious friction, enjoying the way he jerked against her hand and the way his hips ground into hers. She was desperately wet and opened her legs when he shoved his hand up her skirt.

  It was her turn to moan as his hand clamped over her mound.

  “Christ. You’re drenched.” He dropped his forehead to hers and dragged in breath. “Not going to make it.”

  Before Amber could react, he grabbed the wrist that was currently working his erection and pulled her a few feet down the street and into a deep shop doorway. Pushing her back against the wall, he placed his hands on either side of her hips. “I want my hands all over you. Every fucking inch.”

  With her flesh on fire, her insides about to explode, Amber reached her hands to his shoulders as he pushed against her and kissed her with such need she felt her knees buckle. She had to wrap her arms around his neck to stop from melting to the ground.

  His hands slid to her thighs and air brushed over her flesh as he pushed up her skirt. The moan that escaped her seemed to drive him on. He hooked his fingers beneath the side strap of her panties and started to tug them down. With a groan, he pulled his mouth from hers and knelt to yank the silk down her legs. She stepped out.

  Oh hell, he was going to fuck her right here in a shop doorway. Some part of her brain warned that this was insane, that things like this didn’t happen to careful, practical, steady Amber Green. Women like her didn’t allow themselves to be fucked in a shop doorway on a quiet Brighton side street. Except it was happening and she was loving every delicious, erotic moment.

  Ethan yanked up her skirt until it was around her waist and the cool evening air whispered over her heated flesh. “Open your legs,” he said huskily as he pushed his knee between them. “Let me touch you.”

  She wobbled a little, grabbing on tighter to his shoulders as she spread her legs.

  He caught his hand behind the back of her knee and pulled her leg up until her knee dug into the side of his waist. With his free hand, he cupped her pussy. “Wet,” he ground out. “Hot. Exactly as I imagined.”

  Amber opened her mouth to say yes, oh bloody hell yes, when he eased a finger inside her. She moaned, closed her eyes, and dropped her head back against the wall.

  He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing against her heated skin as he pushed another finger inside her. “I can feel your muscles move against me,” he growled, pulling his fingers out before driving them into her again. “Will it be the same when my cock is inside you?”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes.”

  He upped the pace, his fingers driving inside her deeper and deeper with each thrust.

  Amber felt the heady pull of climax.

  “Come for me,” he demanded as he continued the relentless thrust of his fingers. “Let me feel you against my hand, against my fingers.”

  The climax ripped like a blade, shattering every semblance of sanity she tried to grasp. She clung to him, let him take her mouth as relentlessly as his fingers took her pussy. Spent, she sank back against the wall, her leg sliding down his body, but he held her tight, keeping her positioned where he wanted her.

  She opened her eyes, glimpsed him through the blur. His eyes were hooded, dangerous. She felt a little thrill at having been the cause of the lust darkening their heady depths.

  Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, and with his eyes fastened to hers brought them slowly to his lips. Opening his mouth, he sucked one finger. “You taste good.” Then the other. “I want more of you. Much more.”

  His smile turned almost feral, and Amber felt no respite in the sharp quickening of her pulse. He took hold of her hand and drew it down to his trousers. “Unzip me.”

  Amber reached down, her fingers so desperate to touch him she could hardly pop the button of his slacks. Her fingers brushed his hard abs and she felt his muscles clench beneath her feather-light touch.

  Slowly, she slipped his zipper down and his erection sprang free. She’d expected he’d wear boxers or something, but there he was in all his fabulous glory. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers along his length, smiling when he hardened further beneath her hand and groaned his pleasure.

  He released his hold on her knee and reached into his trouser pocket. Slipping on a condom, he pulled her knee up tight to his side again.

  She felt the nudge of his cock against her and closed her eyes. She was so wet, so hot, she wondered briefly where all this sexual desire had been hiding. She’d never once felt like this with Trevor. Not even close.

  Ethan pushed the tip of his cock against her sex, sucked in a breath, and plunged inside her.

  Amber gasped, gripping his shirt for something to hold on to as need drove her senses into turmoil.

  Ethan eased back a little, then drove hard inside her again. His fingers dug into her knee as he began to pump. “You’re tight. Beautiful and tight.”

  Amber held on to him for dear life as he thrust into her. The rhythm was fast and hard. No mercy. She loved it.

  Incredibly, she felt herself nearing climax again. How was it possible? She’d never had a climax when Trevor was inside her. How was it that she was near now? She had no more time to question it, because she came hard and fast seconds before Ethan spurted into the condom.

  He slumped against her, driving her back against the wall. “Shit,” he growled against her throat. “Shit.”

  Amber couldn’t say anything. She was incapable of speech right then.

  After a few moments, he reached his hands to either side of her face, kissed her, and then pulled slowly out of her. “Amber?”

  “Hmm?” For the first time in her life she felt as if she’d been well and truly serviced. She smiled at the thought, marveling at how she could have gone her whole adult life without being fucked so fabulously.

  She watched as he bent down and retrieved her panties, her eyes widening when he stuffed them into his pocket.

  As she started pulling her dress down, he caught her hands. He stared down at her, then reached his hand out to cup her mound. “You’re beautiful,” he said in a husky tone. “I want you again and again.”

  A feeling of power shuddered through her. Feminine, sexual power. It was heady and so welcome she wanted to wiggle her hips in a triumphant dance. She flipped an imaginary middle finger at Trevor, her lips curling into a smile as she looked at the desire still burning in Ethan’s eyes.

  For a few seconds her smile wavered as Trevor’s taunt pushed into the periphery of her thoughts, yet Ethan had said he wanted her, again and again, which meant she can’t have been that bad. That made it one up to her in the scheme of things, but Ethan’s enthusiasm was fair enough when weighed against a quickie in a dark shop doorway. What would he think when her clothes were off and he was faced with the naked truth of who she was, or rather how she looked? Too late now, she thought as she pulled the edges of her bolero together. She’d come too far along the path of liberation to throw in the towel.

  “Let’s forget about Papa Niko’s,” Ethan said, breaking into her thoughts. “There are things I want to do to you and they can’t wait.”

  Since the feeling was mutual, she nodded. She couldn’t believe how much she wanted him and hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be one huge mistake. She’d soon find out.

  Chapter Three

  Ethan wondered how he had gone from fucking Amber in a shop doorway to inviting her back to his place. He never invited women to his place.

  Usually, they went to the woman’s place or to Marco’s. Marco had no problem letting him use his spare bedroom despite ragging him about his utilitarian tendencies and lack of romantic spirit. But Marco understood that memories of Ethan’s childhood still had the power to bite him unexpectedly. The sanctuar
y of his home had become, if you like, his comfort blanket. Safe and pure.

  Yet here he was inviting Amber back, wanting her there, wanting her in his bed. He had to be insane. Okay, she was smart and sexy, nothing especially unusual in the women he fucked, but not once had he considered violating the shelter of his home by issuing such an invitation.

  Problem was, he’d been lusting after Amber too damn long before doing anything about it. For the best part of a week he’d watched and waited for her to arrive at her office each morning. He would have waited each night for her to leave if she hadn’t been a workaholic and remained there well after the rest of the place emptied. Security might have picked him up as some crazy stalker. It would have been difficult to argue he was still carrying out refurbishment of the company’s elevator installation as the sun went down. Shit. It had been hard enough convincing the guys who worked for him that he, the owner of the bloody company, took such an interest in an average contract that he turned up there every morning to supervise proceedings.

  Brooding a little, Ethan kept his distance from Amber as he led the way up the half dozen stone steps to his Regency townhouse in one of Brighton’s most sought-after areas. The sense of pride he usually enjoyed at people’s first reaction to his home was overshadowed by his brood, and he only nodded at Amber’s “it’s lovely,” comment.

  He was careful not to touch her as he unlocked the door and stood back to let her enter. Like most of his visitors, she glanced around the spacious entrance hall, with its high ceilings and white painted wood paneling. A huge chandelier sparkled little diamonds of pattern and color on the ceiling as Ethan turned on the light.

  “It’s beautiful,” Amber said as she continued to peruse the space. “How long have you lived here?”

  “Almost a year. I’ve restored the main parts of the house, but there’s still a whole lot left to do.”

  As she examined the abstract paintings by local artists adorning the walls, Ethan put his keys on the hall bureau before slipping his hands into his pockets. When his hand touched damp silk, he remembered the panties he’d stuffed into his pocket and pulled out his hand as if the material scorched him.

  He must have made a sound, because Amber turned away from the paintings and looked at him. From her questioning gaze, it appeared she found his physical distance as bizarre as he did, seeing as all evening he’d found it impossible to keep his hands off her. Shit. He’d been inside her, for pity’s sake. Yet here he was acting as if touching her was tantamount to signing his own death warrant.

  He needed a drink. He needed a fucking brain transplant. “Can I get you something? A nightcap?”

  She clutched her bag like a lifejacket in turbulent seas, all the time looking up at him from beneath long, dark eyelashes. Perhaps she’d picked up on his diminishing enthusiasm to have her here in his home. “Maybe just coffee. I’m driving.”

  He offered up thanks that she’d insisted on following him in her car and his spirits rose with the knowledge she didn’t intend staying long. Maybe, like him, she was simply in the market for another quickie.

  Should that be the case then, Halleluiah! The solution to his dilemma was simple enough. Fuck her, then send her home. Effortless damage control. Give her a good time, send her off with a smile on her face.

  And shit. That sounded cold, brutal, but what other option was there?

  Ethan moved to the galley-style kitchen off the hallway, aware that Amber followed him. The click of her heels echoed on the tiled floor, her scent filled his nostrils, and even at a safe distance her very presence seemed to unnerve him.

  He busied himself making coffee, casting a surreptitious glance or two over at Amber who stood with her arms folded across her chest as she gazed out the patio window to his garden. Hell, she was beautiful, even more so in the muted light of the wall sconces he’d inherited when he’d bought the place. She had silky skin, soft and smooth, and as he poured coffee into two china mugs his hands shook a little at the thought of running his fingers over that softness again. And again.

  He’d take his time learning all her favourite spots, feeling her shiver and moan beneath him until— Damn. What happened to fuck and dump?

  She turned, as if she’d felt his appraisal, smiling at him as he got his feet in gear and moved across to her.

  “Thanks.” She took the coffee and returned to her perusal of the view again. “You’ve got a great place. Lovely garden. The way you’ve put the lights around the path, and by the shrubs… It’s beautiful.”

  “Yeah. It suits me.” He kept her at arm’s length, feeling disorientated and ill at ease. Long moments passed in silence as they each sipped their coffee and stood almost at attention.

  Eventually, Amber turned to him with a sigh. “Look. You’re obviously uncomfortable and regretting this, so why don’t we just call it a day. It was fun but I think—”

  “I never bring women here.” The words spilled out before he could think. She’d given him an out, an easier one than he deserved, why the hell hadn’t he just gone along with it? Maybe because he felt she deserved some sort of explanation for his circumspect behaviour, or because the thought of her leaving gave him pause.

  Ethan continued to look out the window. “You’re the first woman I’ve invited to my home. For sex.”

  He turned to face her, captivated by the slight pout and the way her green eyes watched him carefully. Damn. He felt the stirrings of desire rise inside him and his cock twitched. Horny as hell, he thought mocking himself. That mouth, those eyes, they had him ready for round two.

  Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he took her cup and placed it on the counter top next to his own. He slipped the strap of her bag from her shoulder and placed that, too, on the counter.

  Her throat worked as she swallowed, but she didn’t break their gaze.

  He reached for her hands and tugged gently until she came right up against him

  “What changed?” She looked hesitant, but her question was firm. “A moment ago I had the distinct impression you wanted me out of here, and to be honest I’m not sure I don’t feel the same.”

  Hesitancy morphed into indignation, but the haughty look and the way her chin shot up, served only to increase his libido. “I’m an idiot.”

  “Maybe so.” She drew away from him, brought her hands down to her sides. Then she turned to retrieve her bag. “Like I said, it was fun but I’m going home.”

  Something akin to panic rushed through him and he reached down to grip her hand before she could pick up her bag. “Stay.”

  “No.” She pulled away from his hand and stepped back.

  Now, as he looked at her, he saw something else in those green depths. Hurt. Embarrassment. Christ, he was a moron. “I don’t know how to explain. It’s just that I don’t normally invite women back here. I’m a jerk, okay?”

  “Can’t argue with that.” Defiant, she stared back at him. “And just so you know, I don’t normally go back to a guy’s house for sex. Especially one I hardly know.”

  “I get that.”

  “No. You don’t.”

  It was his turn to be defensive. “Look, don’t start with the blame game. You were up for what happened in that doorway as much as I was.”

  “I don’t deny it. But I’m not some charity fuck who needs to be given the full ‘I don’t usually invite women up to my place’ crap just because you’ve had second thoughts and now want to call it a day.”

  “Hold on here. What I said about this not being my usual modus operandi was true. As for you being a charity fuck, what the hell do you mean by that?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head as if trying to remove a persistent and annoying bug. Which, he supposed, was how she viewed him right then. “Perhaps I’m an idiot, too. Maybe my head’s still a mess from the break up and I can’t think straight, let alone reason things out.” She took in a long, slow breath. “And you’re right. I was up for what happened in the doorway, because I needed to prove something to
myself.”

  “Like what?”

  For a brief moment she hesitated. “Let’s just say, my confidence isn’t on the ceiling right now.”

  “And having sex in a shop doorway has raised it some?”

  Another hesitation, then her mouth slid into a grin. “A few inches.”

  As they shared a smile, something eased inside him. “Well, glad to be of help.” He walked across to her, took her hands in his again. “I’ve got ice cream in the refrigerator. Peace offering?”

  Her shoulders visibly relaxed as she let out a long breath. “That sounds good.”

  * * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Amber finished off her second portion of chocolate chip and vanilla ice cream then licked her lips. She watched Ethan track the movement of her tongue, and couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the way his eyes darkened.

  “You missed some,” he said, still looking at her mouth. “Maybe you should lick the bowl to be sure nothing got away.”

  “Anything with chocolate and I simply lose all control.” She popped the spoon in the empty bowl. “It’s a curse.”

  “Chocolate equals you losing control. I need to remember that.” He tapped his temple, twice. “There. Safely stored away for future use.”

  Amber laughed, even as her insides fluttered.

  He sat next to her on the two seater leather sofa in his beautiful sitting room, with its exquisitely chandeliered high ceiling and white wood paneling. With one arm stretched along the back of the sofa near her shoulders, he lightly toyed with her hair. “So, what happened? The break up.”

  “I was engaged.” She reached out and put the empty bowl on the side table next to Ethan’s. “It didn’t end well. We were together almost four years, engaged for the last two.”

  “What happened?”

  No way could she tell him. She couldn’t confess that, hey, not only did her fiance think she was some sort of freak show, but that she was such a washout in the sack he slept with her best friend as a consolation prize. She wanted to change the subject, but the way his cool blue gaze held hers warned he’d hold out for an answer and wouldn’t be fobbed off. “He couldn’t keep it in his pants.”