by Cassie Mae
“It does. He’s not perfect.” Reg laughs. “But… I think he’s turning around.”
Reg eyes me in the rearview mirror, and I’m about to ask another question when the door opens and Ethan slides in, surrounding me in fresh, crisp ocean air.
“Sorry, I got caught up. Hope you weren’t waiting long.”
“Everything okay?”
He nods. “Just going through all the employee emails about the positions.”
“Getting anywhere with that?”
He looks at me, his gray eyes catching mine, and a smile spreads across his face. “I am.”
“Well, you could have taken longer. Me and Reg here were having a fantastic time without you.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. Right, Reg?”
“Yes, Miss Paige. She’s a lovely woman, Mr. Davis.”
“So she tells me,” he jokes. “Reg, head to my place, please.”
“Of course, Mr. Davis.”
Reg pulls out of the parking lot onto the street, and Ethan settles into the soft leather interior. He presses a button, and the partition goes up, blocking us from Reg.
“So what do you want to show me?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“Everybody likes surprises.”
“Not me. So much anticipation leading up to it. The anxiety of your reaction.”
“Anxiety?”
“You’re going to want to see my reaction, and what if it’s not the reaction you hope for, and I let you down and ruin the surprise.”
“You’re thinking way too much into this.”
“Am I?”
He slides across the seat, reaching his hand up to tuck a stray red strand behind my ear. The single touch sends shivers down my spine, makes my heart race and my breathing ragged.
“You are,” he says.
His hand lingers on my cheek. His lips mere inches away, and I swallow down the desire to throw myself at him. After that kiss last night, I don’t think I could stop myself with just a kiss. I want more. I want to feel his hands in my hair. My nipples rubbing against the sprinkling of hair on his chest. Taste his sweet and salty skin as he takes me over the edge. The thoughts alone send heat to my core. If we weren’t in a car, I’d kick my leg over his and straddle those strong thighs. But I don’t want to put on a show for Reg either. I don’t care how thick that coat of finish is on the window. Or if it is soundproof. I want the next time Ethan and I have sex to mean more than a quickie in the backseat.
“Ethan?” My voice comes out much breathier than I intend.
He cups my cheek, running his thumb across my skin. “Yeah, Paige?”
“I…” I want to tell him that I don’t want just sex anymore. That somewhere along the way I fell for my boss. That when he kisses me, it means something. It makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. Things that I want to keep feeling and keep experiencing. That at night when I go to sleep, I dream of him, and when I wake up in the morning, I can’t wait to get to work with the off chance I’ll bump into him in the hallways. So many things I want to say, but instead Kevin’s words come back to haunt me, you’re nothing more than a pathetic intern, and I lose the nerve. “We’re here,” I say, noticing the car has stopped moving.
“So we are,” Ethan says, dropping his hand and adjusting in his seat.
Reg comes around and opens my door. I slide out and thank him before following Ethan into his house. I’ve been here before, but I’m still impressed by the sheer size of it.
“What’s the surprise?” I ask as we move through the foyer and up the stairs.
“I want to show you something that… I don’t know… maybe you’ll appreciate.”
My curiosity is piqued as I follow him down the hall to a closed door. “Are you about to show me your red room of pain?” I ask with a laugh.
“My red room of what?”
“Not a Fifty Shades of Grey fan I’m guessing.”
He shakes his head. “No, but I’m not opposed to experimenting in the bedroom.”
“Good to know,” I say with a wink.
He pushes the door open and flips on a light. My eyes can’t believe what they’re seeing. The walls are lined with custom shelves, a good portion of the shelves holding hundreds of vinyl records. On the floor, boxes with even more records.
“It’s not finished yet. It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to display them. Hell, it took me a long time to actually come in here, but I finally decided alphabetically by year and genre.”
“Good choice,” I manage as I scan the shelves, spotting some of my all-time faves. I step into the room to get a closer look.
Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, B.B. King, Stevie Wonder, Muddy Waters, Carole King, and the names just go on and on and on.
“There are so many good albums in here. Ethan, this is amazing. I had no idea you collected records.”
“I started as a kid.” He shrugged. “I thought it would be a hobby me and my dad could both do. Stupid really. He gave me quite a few and left me the ones he cherished most when he died, but it was never really our thing. It became my thing though. I always loved looking for hidden gems at random stores I stumbled upon.”
A slight amused laugh falls from my lips and he looks at me with curiosity.
“The Ethan Davis I knew from the tabloids seemed like the type who would pay someone to go find them for him. I know now that’s not true.”
“What would be the fun in that anyway? I like the hunt. Knowing that I found it makes it a little more special.” He moves toward the middle shelf and slides out an album. “Like this one for example. Etta James debut LP original from 1960.”
I raise an eyebrow in surprise and hold my hand out for it. “Not what I expected.”
“I found it for a dollar in a tiny antique shop in the mountains of Colorado. It’s not worth much, but it has one of my favorite songs on it.” He taps the song list. “I was seventeen when I found it. I actually gave it to my dad on his birthday. But birthdays weren’t a big deal to him. They were more like an inconvenience when he’d rather be working. He tossed it to the side and answered a call instead of unwrapping it, then waved me to leave his office. My mom told me later that this was the album he listened to the most. Whenever he was home, that is.”
I nod, my heart tumbling around, warming from the secrets he’s sharing with me. My eyes meet his, and I tease him with a grin. “This album has one of my favorite songs on it.”
He tilts an eyebrow, clearly not pegging me for an Etta James fan.
“At Last,” I say, flipping the album over to look at the back. “That’s one of my favorite songs.”
“Is it really?”
“No, I’m making that up so you like me more.” I shove the album into his chest. “Of course it is.”
He grabs my hand and holds it against him. “I already like you plenty.”
His eyes bore into mine, and the intensity in his gaze fuels the fire that has been burning in me since the car.
“Do you like my surprise?”
“I love it. Did you like my reaction?”
He smiles and nods. “I haven’t been in here since… since it happened. We were at odds with each other for so long, and once he was gone. I don’t know. I just felt drawn to this room. He was the reason I loved music and the reason I eventually hated it.”
“When did you start hating it?”
He’s quiet for a moment as he stares off. I can almost see the memories playing through his eyes. “My high school graduation. Instead of celebrating with me, my dad spent the entire day trying to lock up a deal. He left my actual graduation early. Didn’t even see me get my diploma. Mom had a party at the house, and Dad was there for a few minutes. That’s why I have a single picture with him from that day. Mom insisted, he grumbled, and instead of asking the person he was on the phone with to call them back he asked them to hold.
Once the flash went off, my dad went to leave for the office. Mom ran after him, begging him to put me before work for once.”
I want to say something, but how do you apologize for having a father who loves his job more than you? There simply are no words. So instead of saying anything, I rest my hand on his arm and give it a gentle squeeze in an attempt to comfort him. To let him know that I’m here, and I’m listening.
“I was so mad. He couldn’t just give me one day. Just one damn day.” He shook his head, tension building in his shoulders, his jaw ticking with each breath. “So before he could leave, I grabbed my keys and took off. I had no idea where I was going. I didn’t have a plan. I just knew I couldn’t stay there for another second. I drove in silence, refusing to turn the radio on. Music made me feel things, and the silence didn’t. I’d rather feel nothing than anything at all. After that, any time I tried to listen to music, I just got so angry. So I locked up my records, threw out my iPod, and drowned myself in a life of partying. If he didn’t want to be a part of my life, then I would use his money to not be. And that’s what I did for years.
“When I finally came in here after he died, I sat down in the middle of the room, surrounded by the things my dad loved most, even more than me, and I cried. I didn’t think I would, but I did. Afterwards, I shut the door and didn’t look back... until recently.”
His words go right through my ear and straight to my heart, engulfing it in sweet warmth. “Thanks for trusting me enough to let me in.”
“Stay right here.”
He releases my hand, walks over to a corner where an old record player is set up, and places the record on top. Setting the needle into position on the vinyl, the beautiful sweeping sound of the orchestra floats across the room with Ethan as he makes his way back to me.
His hand shakes as he brings it to mine, but once our fingers lace, the shaking stops. He wraps his other hand around my waist, resting on the small of my back. His hand slightly presses on me, urging me forward. I go without hesitation, wanting to be as close to him as I possibly can. Knowing that no matter how close I get, it’ll never be enough.
We begin to move slowly with the music. The soulful sound of Etta James’s voice fills the room, and Ethan dips his head, capturing my lips.
It’s soft and slow, full of passion and emotion, just like the music. He slides his tongue across my lip ring, sucking it into his mouth and eliciting a tiny moan from my throat.
His hands slip beneath my shirt and skate across my skin. He trails his fingers up and down my sides before wrapping around the small part of my waist and pulling me up against the bulge in his pants.
I reach for his zipper, knowing the routine. We don’t do soft and slow. We go rough and fast. We use each other to forget, to release stress, to disappear in the passion for a little while. He finally let me in, and now he wants to forget.
I’m stupid to think that I could have anything more than that with Ethan. Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I’m not weak anymore, and if this is the only way I can have Ethan, then I’ll take it. I’ll take whatever he’s willing to give me because anything is better than nothing.
He drags his lips down my neck, and then his hands grab mine, stopping me from pushing his pants down. “Not here,” he says against my ear, his warm breath gliding across my skin, causing goosebumps to run across my neck.
“Why not?” I ask, reaching for his zipper again. Afraid if he pulls away, I won’t have the courage to continue to be his sex buddy.
His hands stop me again, but this time he laces his fingers through mine and brings the back of my hand to his lips. He presses a kiss to them, and the simple gesture hurts my heart. It’s the little things like this that make me love him.
“Paige, look at me,” he says, his voice strained with desire.
I take a deep breath and blink up at him, catching those beautiful eyes that I can get lost in so easily.
“You deserve so much more,” he says, and my heart breaks. It shatters into a million pieces because I’m afraid this is goodbye. He realizes that I’m in too deep. This was supposed to just be fun. We weren’t supposed to fall for each other.
“I don’t,” I argue. Desperate to make him see that I deserve whatever he’s willing to give me because right now I can’t imagine walking out the door and never being with him again.
He shakes his head, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lip. “You do.”
The pieces of my broken heart reunite and beat wildly against my chest. The intense look in his eyes tell me he truly believes that I’m worth something, that I deserve to be more than what I have been… to him and to everyone else.
I choke on a sob that manages to find its way up from the depth of my soul. Tears of happiness spring forward, but before a single one falls, Ethan cups my face and yanks my lips to his.
I wrap my arms around his neck, and he scoops me up. He walks with me in his arms, but I don’t bother to look where we’re going. All I care about is kissing him, tasting him, and feeling myself pressed against him.
We come to a stop as he opens another door. I kiss him harder, putting everything into the kiss that I can’t seem to put into words.
He lays me down and hovers over me. I open my eyes, taking in the soft down comforter, the blue walls, and the bottle of water on the nightstand. “Your bedroom?”
He closes his eyes for a brief moment and then opens them. “This is my place to get away from everything and everyone. My sanctuary. I don’t let anyone in here.”
“I came in here once before, if you remember. That massive bottle of lube.”
“What can I say, I’ve been lonely,” he says with a wink that makes me melt and laugh all at the same time.
He brushes his fingers across my face, and I smile up at him. “So why now? Why me?”
He runs a finger down the contour of my face. “Because you’re special, Paige. You’re passionate and beautiful. You call me on my crap, and you have great taste in music.”
I laugh because it’s so unexpected, but it means more to me than he could ever know. “Yours isn’t so bad either.”
“I never wanted anything more than sex with anyone, but you make me want more.”
I reach up, cupping his jaw, loving the rough feel of his five o’clock shadow against the soft skin of my palm. “I want more, too.”
“So where do we go from here?”
I give him a playful grin, heart pounding in my chest at the acknowledgement that we’re moving past casual. “We’ll figure it out.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead, and it’s the least erotic kiss, yet it manages to send heat to my core and moisture between my legs.
The bed sinks, and Pepper’s snout presses in between us, making me and Ethan both burst out with laughter.
“Pepper!” Ethan groans, grabbing him by the collar and guiding him off the bed.
“Cock-blocked by a dog,” I say with a laugh, and it feels good. It feels right. To go from passion to laughing. It’s the best combination, and it’s the only combination I ever want now.
Ethan manages to get Pepper out of the room and shuts the door. Pepper whines for a moment, but then the whines stop. “Sorry about that,” Ethan says.
“It’s fine,” I say through my laughter.
He kneels on the bed, and I pull his face back to mine until our gazes are locked on one another. The soft shade of gray in his eyes darken with lust and…love? Could it be? I don’t want to question anything right now. I just want to feel him inside me. “Make love to me, Ethan.”
He kisses my words right off my lips, thrusting his tongue in my mouth and searching for mine. We meet in a tangle, sliding against each other.
His hands hook the hem of my shirt, and he tosses it on the floor. He reaches behind him and pulls his own shirt off. Hating the moment our lips are apart, we instantly find each other again.
Passion consumes me as he trails his lips down my neck and cups my breast. He continues
his trail to the round mounds of skin. He kisses his way across the black lace of my bra before snapping me free from the strap. He pulls the lacy material away one cup at a time.
He stares down at me hungrily, and then dips his head, taking my nipple between his teeth. My body arches off the bed, pushing into him, loving the feel of his hardness against my softness.
We’ve done this before, but this time it’s different. This time we’re not fueled by anger or embarrassment. We’re fueled by passion and love and unadulterated desire.
He slips his hand beneath my tights and runs his fingers across the damp material of my panties. “I need you,” I say as he brings his mouth back to mine. “Please.”
His fingers curl around the waistband of my tights, and he draws them down my leg. He kisses a path down my chest, across my stomach to right above the edge of my panties. He runs his tongue across the lace, licking, sucking, and nipping before pulling the material away and exposing me to him completely.
He leans back, ridding himself of his own pants, and reaches for a condom out of his wallet. He sheaths himself and climbs back on the bed, holding my gaze as he slides slowly into me.
I bite my lip at the intrusion, moan at the sensation of him filling me completely. It’s perfect, and he’s perfect and beautiful, and despite the broken pieces of my heart, he’s still everything I’ve ever dreamed of and thought I would never have.
It isn’t a race this time. Neither of us want this to end, and we take our time, exploring every inch, every crevice with our hands. Kissing every spot our lips can reach.
He moves in and out of me with slow steady strokes, bringing us both closer and closer to release. My eyes close as the pressure builds. His fingers caress my cheek.
My eyes flutter open and catch the beautiful gray irises that belong to the man I have fallen completely head over heels in love with. “Paige,” he says breathy and strained.
“Ethan.”
“I…”
“Yes?” My heart swells waiting to hear what he has to say.
“I…I’m going to come.”
I’m not disappointed at all. The fact that I’m in his bed speaks volumes. Holds more than any words he could ever say. I brush my fingers through his hair. “Wait for me,” I say.
