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He places his index finger over my lips, cutting me off. “Just hear me out. This thing between us is fuzzy, right?” I nod my head, grateful that I’m not the only one that feels this way. “But all I know for certain is that I crave you—your lips, your conversation, your laugh, and your wit. I think about you constantly, and I hate it.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s been a long time since I’ve given myself permission to think about a woman. Oliver has been my priority for years, but with you? I feel like I’m powerless over how entranced I am by you.”
I trail my fingers down the side of his face, dancing the tips across the scruff on his jaw. “Entranced is a pretty powerful word.”
“I’m just being honest with you. I thought maybe you would appreciate that.” He leans forward and presses his lips to mine, and like a match being struck, my entire body ignites. I open my mouth to him, and Ethan wastes no time licking my tongue with his own. Our moans and collective sighs of pleasure echo around us on my porch as we make out like a couple of teenagers—hands groping, pelvises rubbing, lips and tongues touching as much as they can.
And that’s when it hits me—I have to stop second-guessing myself and live in the moment. I want to know what it’s like to be with this man. I want to let this pull I feel toward him take me under. Does that mean I might drown? Yes. But it also means I might find something I’ve been searching for.
“Do you want to come in?” I whisper breathlessly against his lips before he nips at mine again.
“We don’t have to, Amelia. I mean, fuck, I want to. But that’s not why I picked you up.”
Our lips meet once more. “I know, but I want you to come inside. I need you,” I say, reaching down to cup his erection through his jeans, the steel rod achingly hard. My vagina clenches as I feel him, and a low growl leaves his throat as my hand moves up and down his length.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He takes a step back, nods in agreement, and then I spin around to unlock my front door, flicking on the light switch on the wall as we step inside.
“Welcome to my home.”
Ethan walks ahead of me, peering around my space. The living room sits off to our left, and the kitchen is behind that, visible thanks to the open concept floor plan. The staircase is to our right, leading up to the top floor where my room and two others are, one of which I use as a home office. Everything is decorated in soft browns, white, and touches of green. My home is my sanctuary, and I love it.
“This house is so…you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He twists to face me again, a soft smile on his lips. “You should. It feels homey in here, like every detail was chosen for a reason.”
“It was.”
“I get the feeling you don’t do anything without a reason, do you?”
I swallow. “Not usually. I consider myself a fairly cautious and decisive person. I like rules and order, but…”
“But what?”
I take a deep breath before I let out my admission. “All that seems to go out of the window where you’re concerned.”
He swallows and stalks toward me, gripping the back of my neck and pulling me close to his mouth, where I feel the breath of his words hit my lips. “I know exactly how you feel.”
And then his lips are on mine, and our bodies become intertwined, wrapped in each other as we stagger back and hit the nearest wall.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy, Amelia.”
“Ethan…”
He drags his tongue up the column of my throat. “And I fucking love hearing my name come from your lips.”
“Ethan,” I mewl again, desperate to feel him everywhere. I reach down and find the hem of his shirt, lifting it up his torso as he helps me remove it, tossing it to the side as he stares back down at me.
But my eyes are locked onto his chest, broad and sculpted, leading down to hard abs and a happy trail that disappears under the waist of his jeans. Ethan’s arms are just as toned as his dress shirts hinted at, sculpted and lean.
His entire body is lean but defined—masculine and beautiful.
“You’d better stop staring at me like that, Amelia.”
“Or what? What are you going to do about it?”
“Fuck,” he curses. “This mouth of yours…” He pulls me into him again, kissing me deeply as his hands search the back of my dress for a zipper. But he ends up empty-handed and frustrated, making me laugh. “How the fuck do you get this thing off?”
“It’s a side zipper,” I reply, stepping away from him to watch his eyes as I take the zipper down and then carefully lift the entire dress over my head, tossing it to the floor. And the look of appreciation in his eyes is worth the battle it’s taken for us to get here.
“Fuck me. Do you always go braless?”
“Only when the outfit doesn’t allow for it.” I reach up and tug on my nipples, teasing the already hard peaks.
“Jesus, you’re perfect.” Ethan steps up to me again, dipping his head down far enough to take one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and gently biting on it. And considering our height difference, he doesn’t last long until he releases my nipple and lifts me up from behind my thighs, walking me back over to the wall and keeping me in place with his hips as he lines up my breasts to his mouth and continues to lick and suck at them relentlessly, alternating between both.
“Oh God, Ethan…” I dig my hands into his hair, pulling on the short strands as he works over my breasts, building me up into a frenzy of need. My pussy is dripping for him, but he doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon.
“You have amazing tits. I could do this all night.”
“Seems like it. But there are far better things for us to do first, don’t you think?”
His head pops up, and he locks eyes with me. “Where’s your bed?”
“Upstairs.”
