“I thought you liked a little teasing,” he croons.
I blink at him, his words taking a moment to register.I like teasinghim, not the other way around.As if to reiterate his point, he gently presses his thumb to my clit, and I collapse against his neck.
I shift my hips, searching for more of his touch, but he pulls away once again.
“Please…” I moan.I may be a strong, independent woman, but being kept on the edge like this is torture.If he leaves me hanging, I might burn his house down.Which would be a shame, because he’s worked so hard on it.
“Look at me,” he demands.
Somehow, I manage to lift my head.
“Good girl.”He rubs his thumb in a lazy circle, taunting, giving me barely any pressure at all.“I’ll take care of you.I promise.Is that what you want?”
“Yes.”Desperately.
He lifts his hips at the same time he resumes stroking me, and I’m right back there—only this time the pleasure coiling low in my stomach feels stronger.Even more overwhelming.
I fall apart in his arms, Ethan uttering quiet reassurances against my temple, and then my boneless body is lifted off his and dropped onto the cushions.He grips himself in his fist, pumping a few more times before coming with a violent growl on my stomach.
We both bask in bliss for a few moments, until our breaths slow and smiles find our lips.
With a shake of his head, Ethan drags a hand down his stubbled jaw, still drinking me in.
“Are you going to keep staring or go get me a towel?”I tease.
“Give a man a minute to admire his handwork, won’t you?”
Eventually, he pushes to his feet and drags his jeans back on, meandering through my house, then returning with the hand towel from the bathroom.I expect him to toss it to me, but instead, he cleans me off himself, fully embracing his caretaker role.Even though he’s done an admirable job, I could do with a shower.When I tell him I’ll be right back, a look of disappointment crosses his face.
“There’s no need to frown.”I nod toward our abandoned takeout.“I’ll be finished before you get that heated up.”
He collects the bag, his smile growing as he roots around inside.“This smells delicious.I don’t suppose you have any hot sauce?”
As if I’d invite him to dinner and not stock up on spicy shit.“Check the cupboard next to the fridge.”
As I pad quietly through the house to the soundtrack of Ethan Davis moving around my kitchen, I can’t help wishing we had more time.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
CHLOE
Needless to say,I did not forget to lock my door when I left home this morning.What happened to Ethan’s brother was awful, and the last thing I want is for him to worry about my safety.He’s probably right to warn me; you never know who might be in town during tourist season.
That said, it’s a bit disappointing to know I won’t come home and have Ethan surprise me in my living room again.Good thing he’s outside Mugs, watching Rick work on the pergola, otherwise I’d have no one to stare at on my break.
If Dad keeps this pace, he’ll be finished by the end of the week.And with the way Ethan is scowling at him, that might just happen.
Two women in matching floppy hats push through the front door, removing their glasses in tandem like a pair of synchronized swimmers.Their giggles reach my ears despite the loud conversations around me.
They’re both drooling in the direction of the window, and I have a feeling I know what has them in a tizzy.Spoiler: it’s not my dad.
“I wonder if he’s single,” the one with tangerine-colored curls and a smear of white sunscreen on her nose says to the other.
“You should give him your number,” the other one replies, bobbing her head.
“You think?”
“Oh, yeah.”
