by Faye Avalon
It had been easier than she’d thought to tell him about Trevor, but did she really need to tell him everything? To lay herself open, put her fragile self-esteem under the microscope? What the hell. Since she’d told him most of it, she might as well go for broke.
“There really is a triple ouch to all this.”
He raised his hand to her hair and tucked back some tendrils.
The look in his eyes lessened the ache in her chest as she endured the last remnants of hesitation to tell him everything. She turned her head to nestle her cheek against the palm of his hand, then fixed her gaze to his. “My best friend? The person Trevor slept with? It wasn’t a woman.”
Chapter Five
Ethan stared at her. Then his eyebrows drew together in a potent frown. “You’re kidding me.”
Amber shook her head, keeping her gaze fixed to his because she wanted to see every nuance of his reaction. Would he now see the flaw in her that had driven her fiance into not only someone else’s bed, but that of a man? Would he consider her some sort of freak, a woman so lacking in bedroom skills her fiance had been put off women for life?
“When you said it was your best friend, I just assumed it was a woman.”
Amber shrugged. “We’d been friends for years, ever since school. But from now on he’ll always be known to me as the Brighton Bimbo. It’s stupid, I know, but the name-calling helps. It diminishes the enormity of it in my head.”
A thunderous look came into his eyes as he continued to stare at her.
Her cheeks started to burn under his scrutiny and the discomfort of recounting her humiliation at the hands of a fiance who had shattered her perception of her own sexuality and confidence. Faced with that discomfort, she had no choice but to move, so she wiggled out from beneath him and swung her legs over the bed.
He didn’t stop her this time, which sent panic shuddering through her, tightening her chest. Did he view her differently now? Was he listing all the imperfections his sex-hazed brain hadn’t wanted to consider, cataloguing what she’d been rubbish at, what she’d done wrong? Well, screw him. She’d been humiliated enough at the hands of a man. She wasn’t sticking around to endure any more.
Back in the sitting room, Amber grabbed her dress. She looked around for her panties, but remembered they were still in Ethan’s trouser pocket. Well, he could keep them. A little memento.
She was busy trying to fasten the zip of her dress when Ethan stepped up behind her. Her breath caught and tiny shivers ran along her spine as his fingertips brushed against her back.
“I was hoping you’d stay the night.”
His deep voice intensified the shivers that now racked her body, but she busied herself tidying the straps of her dress. “I can’t.”
He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. While he’d pulled on his trousers, his chest remained bare, and Amber tried not to remember how it felt to touch those glorious muscles, to taste his hot flesh. She was wound so tight, she jumped as his thumb and forefinger settled on her chin.
Slowly, he tilted her head until their gazes met. “You tell me about your moron fiance, then you run from my bed as if I’m personally responsible for it. Seems I’m due an explanation, seeing as I’ve still got a hard-on the size of Sussex.”
His voice was very low, very husky, and she felt her feminine muscles clench with desire as she stared into slumberous blue eyes. “I’m not that desperate that I need another mercy fuck.”
Those blue eyes heated. “Me either. Although maybe a mercy fuck is exactly what I need right now to help me retrieve the brain cells I’m currently missing, seeing as you’re speaking that foreign language again.”
“Come on. Are you really that clueless?” She searched around for her shoes, frantic to get away from him, to find a small, dark corner where she could work through her feelings, her sense of loss and impotence. Strangely, the idea that Ethan thought badly of her after the night they’d shared was on a par with walking in on Trevor. She felt just as desolate, rejected. For more than a few heady moments with Ethan, she’d dared to believe that her sexual skills were up to scratch, that there wasn’t something lacking in her.
Oh hell, she was so sick of this. She was sick of feeling as if she had to justify her very existence by her prowess, or the lack of, in the sack. Even if there was a problem with her sexual expertise, she was damned if it was going to define her any longer, make her feel less than a woman, less than a valuable and deserving human being.
Relieved to find her shoes, she went to pick them up but Ethan snatched them up before she could reach them. He held them away from her, the thin straps dangling from his fingers. “Define clueless.”
Ethan’s glare could have melted steel, but Amber faced him head on. She folded her arms across her chest and faced him. “Once again let me spell it out for you. I’m not that good in bed. I’m lacking between the sheets. I know it and now you know it. It’s just the way it is. You might have voiced it to yourself on some level, but pushed it aside for the sake of appeasing your raging hormones. Most men can put up with pretty much anything when there’s a woman happy to put out. But when I told you about Trevor, you realized that what you’d guessed early on was right.”
Frowning, he folded his arms across his chest, mirroring her. “Go on. This might get clearer in a couple of years.”
She wanted to grab her shoes, but knew he’d refuse to release them to her. Instead, she angled her chin at him. “Nothing much more to say, except it’s been nice and goodnight.” She waited, but he didn’t move or say anything. She tried for her shoes and as expected he sidestepped, holding them out of reach.
He glared at her for long moments, then turned and strode to the kitchen.
Amber stood rooted to the spot as she watched his long legs eat up the large expanse of sitting room floor. Was he deliberately being obtuse, or simply feeling guilty because she’d called it right on the button?
Her eyes scanned the room as she planned her next move. She could drive without her shoes, but her bag was still in the kitchen. She couldn’t leave without that, seeing as it contained both her car and door keys. Yet no way could she stay after everything that had been said.
Eventually, she gave up deliberating and followed him to the kitchen.
He’d taken a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator and as the door closed she noticed her bag on top of the unit, out of her reach. “Look, hand me my bag and I’ll be on my way. No hard feelings.”
Saying nothing, he retrieved two glasses from a cupboard then proceeded to pour wine.
Her temper hiked. “You’re starting to piss me off.”
With his back still to her, he straightened, and she heard him let out a long breath. “You know what? I’m all the way pissed with you, have been for about fifteen minutes now.” He turned slowly, and his expression matched the words he’d spoken. “So at the root of all this is you think you’re bad in bed, basically because a couple of jerks were working out their sexual preferences and you happened to get caught in the crossfire.” He stepped toward her, backing her up against the kitchen door.
Her stomach did a flip.
“You want my opinion? Yeah. You’re bad in bed. So damn bad you blew the top of my head off. And you know something? I want to fuck you, again and again. But there’ll be no mercy involved.”
His bare chest pushed against her, and if his words hadn’t cut off her breathing, the feel of his hard strength anchoring her to the door would have done the trick.
Before she could respond, his mouth crushed down on hers. He angled his head so she had no choice but to respond to his demanding lips and his marauding tongue as it clashed with hers.
Not that she wanted a choice, for the first touch of his mouth against hers blew away any residual doubts as to the sincerity of his claims that he still wanted her.
He’d said she’d blown his head off. That he wanted to fuck her again and again. No mercy. Hell, she didn’t want any mercy. Not with Ethan.<
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She told him with her mouth, matching his demanding invasion with her own. As his erection pressed into her stomach, she angled and bucked her hips, giving him no cause to doubt what she wanted. What she needed.
When they came up for air, they were both breathing hard.
“Anything to say?” He grated out the words between breaths and Amber shook her head, incapable of speech. “Good. Then we’re clear?”
Crystal.
He kissed her again, as if to seal the deal. Then he pulled away and spun her around until she was facing the door.
Her palms landed hard against the wood and she turned her head to the side as he leaned into her.
“I want to have you,” he murmured against her ear. “Like this.”
Since there wasn’t a question, Amber didn’t respond. At least, not verbally. She closed her eyes and fell under the spell of his mouth as it moved down the side of her neck, then to her shoulder.
He moved across to her upper spine, his tongue trailing down to the zipper of her dress. The slow slide of the zip as he drew it down to her waist was the only sound echoing through the kitchen.
Amber lowered her arms as he drew the straps away from her shoulders, taking his time to kiss along her exposed flesh.
When the top of her dress had bunched around her waist, he lifted her arms and placed her palms against the door again. “Keep them there,” he commanded. “Don’t move.”
She didn’t think she could if she wanted to. And she didn’t. Her whole body felt fluid, anchorless.
He touched his hands to the sides of her waist, drew his fingers slowly around until he brushed the undersides of her breasts.
Amber gasped as he traced along the sensitive flesh, so bloody slowly she wanted to scream. Her nipples ached for his touch and she wriggled.
“I said, don’t move.”
She dropped her head back against him, exposing her neck. “Then for pity’s sake, touch me.”
His laugh bounced off the kitchen walls, a low rumble of masculine enjoyment that went straight to Amber’s core. “You still haven’t learned much patience have you, green eyes. Well, practice makes perfect.”
He made good on the threat when he still didn’t touch her, but kept on with that slow, erotic slide of his fingers on the plump undersides of her breasts. He took advantage of her exposed throat and kissed her gently at first, then grazed his teeth along her tender flesh, taking small bites.
Amber moaned. Between her legs heat roared, and she wondered how much more she could take.
When his fingers slipped from her breasts, she wanted to complain, until she felt him drawing up the hem of her dress. When the whole dress had bunched around her waist, Ethan slowly slid one hand down to her pussy, cupping her. “You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, pushing two fingers against her folds. “Can you feel what you do to me?” With that, he pushed his hard length against her ass, leaving her in no doubt how she made him feel.
She nodded, feeling lightheaded.
“Tell me,” he whispered against her ear. “Say the words.”
“I can feel you,” she managed, hot breath scoring her throat. “I feel what I do to you.” She felt him smile against her neck.
“Good.” Still cupping her pussy, he dipped a finger into her hot flesh, finding her clit.
Panting, Amber threw her head back as he started to work the hard nub, all the while anchoring her with his free hand around her waist and pulling her in tight against his erection.
She tried to move her hips, to gyrate against him as the pressure built, but he wouldn’t allow her to do so. Instead, he pushed himself against her, mimicking the movement of his finger inside her pussy.
He slid in another finger, pushed deeper until Amber felt her muscles clamp as she spiraled toward climax. She cried out, pressing her palms against the door to try to get purchase on something, anything. All she could do was ride it out, the screaming sensation that was both torture and ecstasy in equal measure.
Her legs really did give out as she came back down, and she felt Ethan’s grip tighten around her as he withdrew his fingers.
Deftly, he removed the bunched up dress with one hand, leaving her completely naked. “Spread your legs.”
Amber was having a hard time processing what he’d said because she was still off in some netherworld where orgasms like the one she’d just experienced were permissible for mere mortals. Only when she felt his knee between her legs, encouraging them open, did she fully realize what he’d said.
As she stepped her legs apart, he put both hands around her hips and pulled her ass away from the door so that she arched her spine. She heard him reach into his pocket. Then there was the sound of the condom packet being ripped open, the scrape of his zip, the low groan he made, and then, thankfully, his hands were back on her hips.
He tilted her a little, so that her ass was raised higher, then used his hand to guide his cock to her opening. He eased himself inside her, inch by delicious inch, until he sank to the hilt.
Bloody hell, it was amazing like this. He filled her to capacity, his hard, long length packed inside her as if they were made to connect by every available centimeter.
He started to move, slow at first, then harder, faster.
Amber’s breath pumped out along with Ethan’s, his grip on her hips increasing until his fingers dug into her flesh.
Still he pumped, and she realized that she was about to come. Again. Ethan roared out his own climax at the exact same moment she reached hers.
The room spun, colors clashing, images blurring as she soared off into some ethereal place, all the while connected to Ethan, his hard length impaling her, his arms anchoring her.
Spent, Amber crashed back against him, her head against his shoulder, her body limp in his arms.
Heavy breathing filled the kitchen and as Amber gasped for air, her nostrils filled with the scent of fabulous sex and hot, satiated man. She smiled as she leaned into him, enjoying the brush of his mouth against her neck.
“God,” she gasped. “You made me come again.”
“You sound surprised, green eyes.” His cocky tone mingled with the fight to control his breathing, which made her laugh. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I’m just in awe.”
He kissed the side of her neck before slowly pulling out of her. “Me, too.”
She turned to face him as he tugged up his trousers and slid the zip. He left the button on his waistband unfastened, which looked sexy as hell. “Trevor never made me climax when he was inside me. You have, every time.”
“That’s part of my awe-ness.” He smiled as he pulled her against him and, she thought vaguely, how erotic it felt to be totally naked against a man who had his pants on.
“Weirdly, that doesn’t sound conceited.”
He raised his hands to her face and drew her hair behind her ears. “You’re so beautiful. Weirdly, you don’t know it.”
She smiled, a little disconcerted by his penetrating gaze. It was as if he saw right through her, straight down to her soul. “Now, that would be conceited.”
“But accurate.” He dropped a kiss to her lips, lingered for a few seconds before he drew away, his eyes serious. “Stay the night?”
It took her only a few seconds to make the decision. “Okay.”
Chapter Six
Amber’s first thought on waking was that the scent of coffee wafting from the kitchen was like nectar to her senses. Her second thought was that her whole body felt indolent, sated, and yet, energized.
She turned her head to check what she already knew. Ethan was up and in the kitchen with the coffee machine. She eased herself out of bed, acutely aware of muscles that evidenced a very lively night, and made for the bathroom.
Back in the bedroom, Amber slipped into her dress, thankful that during the night when she got up for water she’d had the foresight to retrieve it from the kitchen floor where it lay in a crumpled mess. She smoothed her hands down the unavoidab
le creases before heading out to find Ethan.
He’d pulled on his trousers and since he had his back to her, she hoped he’d left that button undone again.
As she came near he turned. Yes indeedy, that sexy button appeared to be currently redundant. His hair was damp at the edges, evidence of a recent shower.
A trifle disappointed, since she’d hoped to join him, Amber walked toward the hand he held out to her.
“Morning, gorgeous. What’s with the pout?”
“Nothing. This is the morning me. Not my best time of day.”
He pulled her into an embrace. “We can always change that.” He wiggled his brows. “Or maybe you’ve had enough of me?”
“Maybe.” She softened it with a grin and kissed him.
“Not sore?”
“A bit.”
He gave her that lopsided smile that melted all her defences and sent her hormones into overdrive. “Want me to help with that?”
“Sadly, no. I have to get to work.”
He frowned. “On Saturday?”
“The work of an event coordinator is never done.” She kissed him lightly. “We’ve got to go through plans for a civic event next Tuesday. My manager is paranoid because there are visiting dignitaries who really push the boat out when it’s their turn to host. What about you? Don’t lifts break down on weekends?”
“If they do, it won’t be me fixing them. That’s why I have employees.” Again that grin. Almost irresistible. Almost.
“Well, if I don’t get my butt in gear and get to work, I might be applying for an apprenticeship with your company.”
“Seeing as I have firsthand knowledge of your skills, I might be willing to take you on.”
Unbidden, her old doubts and fears came rushing back. How could she even begin to question them after the night they’d just had? Ethan had been as exhausted as she was, had certainly seemed to enjoy himself. When would she be able to put this ridiculous question mark over her abilities to rest? And what happened to valuing herself as a person rather than a sexual object?
