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I swallow against the sudden desert in my mouth. If he asked me if I loved him, I would have answered in a heartbeat. Or if I wanted him. Needed him. But trust is a funny thing. Just a week ago, I would have said I didn’t have any trust to give, to anyone. But when it’s Ethan Frost, a week makes all the difference. It makes every difference.
“Yes. ” I whisper the word, because no matter how true it is, I can’t force myself to say it any louder.
“Then let’s do this my way. I’ll take care of you, baby. I promise. ”
Nodding is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Harder than telling Ethan the truth last night. Harder, even, than listening as my parents sold me out. The control freak in me doesn’t like giving anyone else that kind of power over me.
But once it’s done, once I’ve handed myself completely over to his care, it’s like a weight disappears from my shoulders. Because I know that Ethan will never hurt me. And he won’t let me hurt myself, either. Not anymore.
Chapter Twenty-two
Long minutes pass as we do nothing but lie in the sun, my body stretched over Ethan’s as he touches me. Gentles me. He strokes my hair for a long time, his strong fingers rubbing at my scalp until I’m all but purring. Then he moves to my neck, my shoulders, and down my back, following the muscles of my spine. He kneads my waist, my arms. Threads his fingers through mine and rolls my hand around in a circular motion that somehow manages to feel nearly as good as an orgasm.
By the time he’s done, I’m nothing but a blissed-out pile of relaxed goo, every muscle in my upper body as soft and runny as melted butter.
“You still awake?” he murmurs, a smile in his voice.
I purr the closest thing to a yes that I can manage.
“Good. ” He gathers me closer to his chest, slips an arm under my knees, and then stands.
“Where are we going?” I’m too lazy to even wrap an arm around his neck, so I just burrow in and let him do all the work.
“The bedroom. ”
I smile against his chest. “It’s about time. ”
“Really? You’re complaining?”
“Not complaining. Just anxious. ”
He lifts one of my hands, then lets go, watching as it just flops by my side. “Yeah. You look real anxious. ”
“Looks can be deceiving. ”
“So I hear. ” He mumbles the last under his breath, and this time I do lift my head, just in time to see a look I’ve never seen before cross his face. But then it’s gone, just as quickly as it appeared and I’m left wondering what it was I saw. And why I think it’s important.
When we get to the bedroom, he deposits me on the bed before walking into the bathroom. Seconds later, I hear the bathwater start to run.
Then he’s back, standing next to the bed. I watch with great interest as he shrugs out of his shirt—he never did rebutton it after I tore it open earlier—and drops it on the end of the bed. His belt buckle comes next, then the top button of his jeans. By the time I hear the snick of his zipper going down, I’m wet and achy and more than ready to pick up what we were doing before I completely lost my shit out on the patio.
But Ethan has other plans. He rolls his jeans and boxer briefs down his legs, and then he stands there, naked and aroused, in front of me.
It’s all I can do to keep my mouth from dropping open as I stare at him. I haven’t seen very many naked men in my life, but I don’t have to have seen that many to know that Ethan Frost is a prime specimen of manhood. Long and lean, with muscles in all the right places, he’s got the ultimate surfer’s body. Massive biceps for paddling through the big waves, powerful pecs to push him up on the board, tightly stacked abs that help him stay upright when he’s got a big swell beneath him and strongly muscled legs for all of the above. And then there’s his cock, which is as long and hard as the rest of him.
He’s gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous, and I itch with the need to touch all that golden skin. To kiss and lick and taste and test every delectable part of him.
He smiles at me like he knows what’s going on in my head, but all he says is, “Want to take a bath with me?”
I do. I really do, but I’m nervous as well. Small space, both of us naked. The last thing I want to do is make a fool of myself all over again.
But again, it’s like Ethan has a direct line into my brain. Because he reaches a hand out to me and says, “Come on. I’ve got you, Chloe. ”
And though I know it may be a bad idea, that it may end with me as disappointed and humiliated and miserable as our last two attempts at sex have, I take his hand. Because when he asks like that I can deny him nothing. And because if Ethan says it’s going to be all right, I can’t help but believe him.
I take his hand, let him pull me up. I wait, a little tense, a little unnerved, for him to undress me, but he makes no move to do so. Instead, he places a hand on my lower back and guides me gently into the bathroom.
I go where he leads, but I have to admit that it’s strange walking with Ethan when he’s naked and I’m fully dressed. Not uncomfortable strange, but weird strange, and I can’t help wonder why he hasn’t stripped me out of my clothes as easily as he stripped off his own.
