I make my way back to the front door and open it once more to find Ethan leaning against the wall opposite my apartment.
“Hi.”
He pushes off the wall and walks over to me, not stopping until he’s pushed me back into my apartment. He kicks the door shut, takes my face gently in his hands, and brushes his lips softly over my forehead.
“If you’re feeling as rough as my sister seems to be this morning, I’ll be gentle. But I need to kiss you, Summer. Please tell me I can kiss you.”
“Yes, please,” I breathe, and that’s all I can get out before his mouth is on mine. Our kiss turns into a frenzy, and I walk him over to the couch, pushing him down before straddling his lap. My hands go to the hem of his shirt and I impatiently tug at it until he pulls it off over his head. I let out a noise of satisfaction as my fingers roam his chest, reacquainting myself with the feel of his skin, the smattering of hair and the ripples of his muscles.
“Did you just purr?” He pulls back, his abs rippling with laughter under my hands.
“No,” I say indignantly.
“Yeah, you did.”
“I…”
“Maybe I should call you kitten.”
“Don’t you dare!” I slap at his chest lightly, and he growls, grabbing my hand and holding it in place. I lean down and kiss him again, letting my mouth travel from his lips to his jaw, over to his ear, and down his neck. He moves his fingers up my sides slowly, grazing over my body and making me shiver. He sweeps my hair over one shoulder and presses a kiss to the skin he bares.
“I love this tattoo. It’s perfect for you. Beautiful, unique, strong.” His fingers graze what he can reach of it.
“Mmm hmm,” I mumble, tipping my head to the side and twisting so he can see all of it.Take my shirt off. Please take my shirt off.I silently beg, but he doesn’t listen.
“Tell me about it?” he asks, almost conversationally, and I want to growl with frustration.
“Your self-control is kind of driving me crazy, Ethan,” I pout.
He laughs and drops his forehead down to my shoulder. “It’s killing me, trust me. I want to flip you over the back of this couch, strip these leggings off of you and slide into you. But I promised you a date first.”
“The date that feels like it will never come,” I grumble half heartedly. The truth is, I think it’s unbelievably sweet and romantic that he’s insisting on a proper date before we let things go too far.
“It’s coming. Tonight. And after, you will be, too.” He smacks one more kiss on my lips before lifting me off his lap, standing, and walking over to the door. “But if I don’t get to the office and tackle the massive amount of inane paperwork that I’m positive awaits me, I won’t get home in time to make dinner. See you at six?”
I nod, a stupid smile on my face. Ethan winks, then leaves. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled he stopped by, I really did miss him. But Goddamnit, must I always be left so freaking frustrated?
A few minutes before six, I knock on his door nervously. I love Ethan’s house; last time I was here, I couldn’t help but notice that the style is exactly what I always wanted in my own dream house. It’s Craftsman style, which I only know because of the time that I was recovering from dental surgery and spent way too many hours daydreaming over houses and reading home design magazines nonstop. The wide porch has a swing on it, a real honest-to-goodness porch swing. White columns frame the stairs leading up to the door, and windows let in plenty of light. A large dormer hints at an upstairs room, but I haven’t seen that much. Mila mentioned that when he bought it, the house was a dump. It certainly isn’t anymore. Even the garden seems well-kept, with tidy flower beds and a paved walkway leading up to the front porch.
When the door opens, my breath catches in my throat. He’s wearing a dark grey, long-sleeve Henley that molds to the contours of his body perfectly, jeans, and his feet are bare. Good God, why are men so damn sexy when they have bare feet? His hair is damp, and I can smell the scent of what I assume is his soap or shampoo. Citrusy, fresh, delicious.
“Come here,” he practically growls, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside and straight into his arms. With his hands resting on my lower back, and our pelvises lined up, he peppers my skin with light kisses, dancing around my cheeks until finally landing on my mouth. My fingers find their way into his hair, holding him, fusing him to my lips.
“Want to put bets on what interrupts us tonight? Could be your sister, a town emergency, earthquake, UFO sighting,” I tease, but my words end with a shriek as Ethan picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder, his hand coming down to smack me lightly on my ass.
“Fuck it. We’re skipping dinner. I want dessert first.”
14
Ethan
It would take a disaster of monumental size to tear me away from Summer right now. We’ve waited too fucking long for this and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let one more thing stand in the way of us being together.
We reach my bedroom, and I set her down gently on her feet before stepping back and quickly shucking my shirt and pants. The way she’s watching me has my dick hardening, straining against the confines of my boxer briefs. I reach for her and lift the hem of her sweater, taking it gently over her head, watching the cascade of her hair as it falls free. The dark green bra she’s wearing makes my mouth water as I envision what lies beneath.
I need to slow down. Savor this. Somehow, I force my hands to steady, reaching for her pants and slowly lowering them over her hips. Her panties match the bra, and I can feel my pulse thundering in my veins.
I knew she had the lotus blossom tattooed on her shoulder, but now I can also see a line of script on her hip. My fingers go to trace the words,strong enough.She certainly is. This magnificent woman is stronger than anyone I know.
