He wanted to take the spotlight off himself. He knew he should just let Jenna sleep. She looked so peaceful, so tired, but he had to know something. “So…what’s it mean?”
Her eyelids fluttered until she opened them. “Hmm?”
He wasn’t looking under the sheet, but he could remember exactly where that tattoo was…on that gorgeous flesh on her upper left thigh. He slid his hand over where he remembered it was. “Your tat. What’s it mean?”
Something flashed in her eyes then, and he could tell she was considering not telling him what was on her mind. But then she said, “Just what it says. Never again. Never again…” She took a deep breath and looked at Ethan’s chin, as though she couldn’t bear seeing his eyes. “Never again will I give my heart over to someone else, just to have it trampled and disregarded.”
Ethan wanted to say something, but he was the last person who should say a word, because he knew that was exactly what he’d done to Valerie. Yeah, he felt like his heart had been trampled by the love that Val and Brad shared, but he’d never told Val any of that. He figured saying something would make him look like a pathetic insecure puppy dog, something he’d never wanted to be in Val’s eyes. He’d rather be the badass jerkwad motherfucker she’d grown to know and love…and then give up on. His reputation would remain untarnished.
Nor would he tell any of that to this goddess lying next to him. She’d heard enough from him tonight. Still…they had some inexplicable connection, and he felt he had to tap into it just once more. “I know what that feels like, and it sucks.” He nodded, his thumb still stroking the skin where he knew her tattoo was. “It’s best to just shield your heart.”
He expected her to correct him, to tell him he was mistaken. She was the person with the degree in psychology, after all. Any second, she was going to say it wasn’t healthy, that you couldn’t experience happiness and love if you didn’t risk the pain that could come with it…but she never did. And that told Ethan all he needed to know. She’d been hurt…scarred, and she still didn’t know how to handle it.
Something in her eyes changed in that moment, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but she turned on her side to face him and stroked his cheek. That was…almost too much. He closed his eyes for just long enough that he could get a grip, and then he opened them again. The feeling was overwhelming. After looking at her again, he leaned over to kiss her. God, he could get used to the way her hand would wrap around his neck, firm and possessive. Most women were so obsequious and submissive around him, so to have a woman not shy away from him…that was something. Valerie never had, but that was another story. Most women now—fans and groupies—pretty much just wanted to know how to please him and often secretly hoped he’d discover he was deeply in love with them, had just been waiting for them to come into his life. He’d loved it at first, but now—sober—he kind of felt sorry for them and even almost felt bad about the way he’d taken advantage of them. As he’d pulled himself up from the depths, he’d tried to make himself feel better by telling himself at least they’d had the experience of a lifetime—they’d fucked an honest-to-God rock star. Not every woman could say that. Now, though, as he was pulling the layers off his conscience, he was beginning to feel guilty about a lot of things…the way he’d treated the groupies who were just wanting love or fun or both; the way he’d treated Valerie and his bandmates; the way he’d given up on himself and hadn’t been there for his son, his flesh and blood; the way he’d blown off his dying father.
He kissed Jenna hard, trying to get lost in her, trying to drown out the voices in his head telling him he should be ashamed, that he was a loser. It was those kinds of thoughts that had driven him to drink in the first place. He needed to push it all out, let it go by doing his best to correct the mistakes, fix what he could change and just be a better man from this point forward. He’d never be able to make it up to Valerie, but perhaps he could make things right with his son. He wouldn’t be able to dry the tears of the groupies of the past, but he could control the way he treated them from now on. It was all he could do.
And he could treat the woman in his arms right. He could at least try.
That would be his penance for the day.
The way she stirred in his arms, he was pretty sure she was feeling aroused again. He could feel her nipples digging into him. It was too soon for him. In fact, he was surprised he was even awake, but maybe he could send this angel to heaven one more time tonight before she drifted off.
She continued to stir, as though she had an itch that needed scratching, and that endeared her to him. He almost wished they could melt into one so he could feel what she was feeling. He knew he could somehow find redemption in her. He knew too, though, that he had to take care of her. It couldn’t just be about him.
God, her skin was so soft, so smooth, so sweet. He slid his right hand down to cup her ass. He noticed the change in her breathing. Yeah, she was ready again, and no way was he going to let her down.
He didn’t want to spoil the mood by talking. Earlier, it had been part of the foreplay. It had been fun and hot, but he wanted this time to be sweet. He wanted her to know what he was feeling, but no way in hell did he want to talk about it. She would know. She would have to.
He kissed his way to her neck, and her fingers tightened around his hair. Christ, he loved how she would get a little rough with him. He wouldn’t tell her, but it felt good. He wouldn’t have minded if she did worse. He could go for a bite. Right now, though, he was just enjoying the way her hands felt in his hair up against his scalp.
Her skin tasted so sweet, almost like vanilla, but he didn’t plan to stop at her neck. He loved the way her breathing kept changing as he moved to her collarbone, then her cleavage, and then to teasing one of her nipples. He could tell what he was doing was affecting her and that he was on the right track. She arched her back, forcing that sweet little button deeper into his mouth, and he just sucked on it as gentle as could be. She let out a heavy sigh and he licked her one last time before kissing down her belly.
Oh, that goddamn belly ring. Jesus. He loved those things. He loved how Jenna looked—for the most part—like a straight-laced counselor, one with a bit of an edge, but no one would ever guess what was underneath it…a couple of sexy tattoos, a navel with a silver ring and a shiny gem winking at him. He loved knowing that he was one of privileged few allowed to savor her secret side.
He sucked on that sexy little piercing, tugging at it a little before letting it go. He saw the tattoo on the bottom of her belly again and wished he could erase it. It was pain for Jenna—he knew that, no matter how pretty and flowery the script was. She wouldn’t have recorded it on her body if it had just been a fleeting thought. No…it was something huge, something that hurt her to the core, and it was something she might even feel was a fault. He wanted to change that. He wanted her to know how special she was. No, he hadn’t known her for years, but he didn’t need to. He knew her enough to know her heart. She was one of the best people he’d ever have the privilege of caring about.
But he wasn’t moving down her body to worry about that goddamned tattoo. No. He wanted to give her a lovely parting gift, something to remember him by. He almost laughed aloud at the thought, especially as he parted her legs, kissing inside her thigh, drawing the soft flesh into his mouth, teasing her. She groaned in anticipation. He didn’t want to make her wait.
He ran his thumbs down her slit, pulling her apart a little. Her legs tightened up, responding to the attention he was giving her. He flicked his tongue out, just touching her a little, and she moaned again. She was close already, so he moved a finger down below to her pussy and traced around the opening. Fuck. She was dripping again. It made his chest swell to know he had that effect on her. While he caressed her clit with his tongue, he slid his finger inside, hoping to give her double the pleasure.
She moaned again and he saw her hands clenching the bottom sheet on her bed. He wished her hands were still in his hair, but he
figured she was probably afraid of ripping it out of his head. He lapped his tongue against her slowly as her breathing grew deeper, and she squirmed even more. He kept working his finger too, hoping to hit that g-spot. He didn’t know if it really existed or not, but he didn’t want to take any chances by ignoring it.
He kept stroking her with his tongue until she shuddered and cried out, and she began panting and cursing again like she had earlier. Goddamn, the woman had some intense orgasms. It made him feel great, although he doubted he was the sole reason why she was enjoying having sex so much.
Still…it made him feel great to know he was taking her there.
He kept up the speed and the pressure until she started to come down and released her grip on the sheets. He kissed her inner thigh again as he pulled his finger out. He wanted to join her again, hold her close until she drifted off to sleep in his arms. He didn’t want her to think anything…instead, he wanted her to just relax and let it all go. Her face looked like she could, and she opened one of her eyes a crack to look at him. She had a huge silly grin on her face, but she looked like she could barely get her eye to open.
He pulled her into his arms. She muttered, her lips pressed against his chest, “Thanks for that.”
He smiled, happy that—for a moment, at least—the voices, the doubts, the worries were gone, and he kissed the top of her head. “Just sleep.” Feeling devilish, he said, “I might decide I want to try again in an hour or two and you need your rest.” The soft giggle she breathed against his chest was all he needed to feel to assure him that her sense of humor was still fully intact.
Chapter Seventeen
JENNA ROLLED ONTO her side and that caused her to slowly awaken. She remembered it all then, every moment from the night before condensed into the space of a few seconds. No, she didn’t regret it, not one bit. She only hoped it would be okay for Ethan, that he’d be able to handle it all right. She knew he felt strong, and she could tell he really was tough—he’d survived a lot, after all—but a relationship might not be the best thing for him right now, especially because new relationships could sometimes be bumpy.
She sat up and looked at him, passed out cold. In that state, he didn’t look like a recovering addict or even someone who’d had the rough life she knew Ethan had dealt with. He almost looked like a teenager, except for the dark stubble on his face. His hair lay on the pillow around him, and his chest rose and fell slowly with each breath he pulled through his slightly parted lips. Even asleep, the man was drop-dead gorgeous. He looked serene…and she’d never seen Ethan look that way before, not even when he was lost in his guitar.
Jenna almost panicked as it washed over her. No, it wasn’t that Ethan looked different. She was looking at him through changed eyes.
Fuck. She was starting to care.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. She drew in a deep breath and slid her legs off the bed. How the hell had she let that happen? Shit. She should have had that stupid tattoo branded on her forehead instead of just above her pantyline. Instead, that thing had turned out to be a source of pleasure last night rather than the harsh reminder it was supposed to be.
As she walked to the bathroom, angry as she was, she still couldn’t help the dumb ass new-love feeling surging through her. What the fuck?
But it was there…and it was intense, overwhelming. She felt almost giddy. Ethan was a spectacular lover, something she honestly hadn’t expected. Based on all their conversations, particularly when he would talk in group about his past, she gathered that he had been pretty self-absorbed until recently. Someone like that wouldn’t really care how his lover felt or if she was even enjoying herself, and someone like Ethan who no doubt had had hundreds of women throwing themselves at him didn’t necessarily need to care. But he had. And she felt like she was on the verge of giggling just remembering the night before.
She had to play it cool, though. She didn’t want Ethan thinking either extreme—one, that she was almost where she believed she was hovering, on the precipice of falling into the love chasm, or two, that she was cold and uncaring. She had to be cautious about maintaining a careful balance. Ethan was potentially fragile, and his sobriety was her highest priority. She’d have to play the morning by ear and make sure he got what he needed. Her feelings didn’t matter.
But she continued grinning widely when she stepped in the shower and enjoyed the warm water streaming onto her cheeks. She could still smell him on her skin until she started rubbing the soap under her arms.
Had there been a place on her body he hadn’t touched? She didn’t think so. And it was like he knew exactly what she needed and how she needed it and hadn’t wanted to deny her a thing.
She looked at that damn tattoo. It was taunting her, almost as though it were saying, “I told you so.” Yeah…Jenna knew that when she fell, she fell hard, and she was dismayed to find this time was going to be no different.
She scrubbed shampoo into her scalp, trying to devise a plan to protect her heart. What could she do differently this time to stop the awful heartache she’d suffered last time? Well, it had been more than a broken heart. Her last boyfriend, a prick named Donald, had damaged her psyche. The guy had been too much like her dad (only worse in the long run), and she’d been in a vulnerable place from the beginning. And, in the end, his final blow…he’d just wrecked her. What Jenna needed to do was stop falling for broken guys. It was hard, though, because they were the people she most understood. She shared with them a common background. And it was too late…she’d once again fallen for a damaged man, but this time he was the guy who was likely the biggest wreck she’d ever met.
She was never going to learn.
Well, maybe she was stupid, but she knew better than to show her feelings. The morning after was always the part that made her the most nervous. It might have been easier if Ethan had left sometime the night before, but he hadn’t. So now they’d have the awkward and uncomfortable task of dealing with each other the next day, and she knew she’d have to be cool. She only hoped she could handle that.
She nearly jumped and squealed when she heard a rap on the bathroom door. She’d been living alone long enough that she wasn’t used to other people disrupting her routine. She raised her voice. “Yeah?”
She heard the door creak open. “Jenna?”
It was Ethan…of course. Like it would have been someone else. She answered, “Yeah?”
She heard him laugh. “I really gotta take a piss. Sorry.”
“Give me a sec. I just need to rinse. Two minutes?”
“Yeah.” She heard him close the door again. For a second, she’d thought he was going to just barge in and start going. She felt relief that he wasn’t. Of course, that would have broken the day after ice.
And before she opened the door to him, she needed to put on her game face. She couldn’t give away what she was feeling. She just hoped he wasn’t going to be a total douchy dickweed. She could deal with just about anything else, but no cocky behavior, like he’d done her a favor. If he acted this morning like he had the first time she’d met him, she’d have to kick him out and then talk to him about it later.
She got out of the shower and patted dry, steeling herself for the inevitable, because the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that arrogance would be the way Ethan would deal with the previous night’s proceedings. Maybe if she hadn’t slipped so easily into orgasm, it wouldn’t be so easy for him. But what was done was done, and there was nothing she could do to change it. All she could do would be to set him straight when he got annoying.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite prepared, but she’d promised to clear out of the bathroom as soon as possible, so she wrapped the towel around herself and opened the door. Ethan was leaning against the wall next to the door, and he was only wearing the black underwear he’d been wearing the night before. They weren’t tight, but they hugged him nonetheless and left little to the imagination. She didn’t look directly at him, but she saw him from head to toe just the sa
me and almost blushed remembering. She swallowed. “It’s all yours.”
He’d been doing a little looking himself, she noticed. He straightened up and walked into the bathroom. “Thanks.”
As the door closed, Jenna took another deep breath. Okay. First awkward moment over. But she was going to get dressed. That would help some.
She threw the damp towel on her bed and quickly yanked a bra and panties out of her dresser drawer. They didn’t match, and she didn’t care. She just wanted to get covered. She slipped the black panties on and had just fastened the white bra on by the time Ethan made it back to her room. He stood in the doorway. “Did you really have to get dressed?” She tried to smile, and he smiled back. “Do you mind if I take a quick shower? And do you have any toothpaste I can use?”
She hoped that didn’t mean he planned on kissing her again. Bad enough the smell of sex loomed heavily in her room. She knew just having him leave wouldn’t be enough to get him out of her head…but it would be a good start. It would take all weekend.
She kept the smile on her face and nodded, walking toward the doorway. Ethan moved out of her way and followed her. She could feel his eyes on her ass. It didn’t feel uncomfortable like she’d thought it would. Instead, she liked it.
Stop it, Jenna.
When they got to the bathroom, she told him to help himself to whatever he needed, and she showed him where she kept the toothpaste in her medicine cabinet. She fetched him a towel (her favorite—an extra fluffy black one) and a washcloth and then waved and backed out of the bathroom.
Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8 Page 58
