by Roya Carmen
"Mom," she said. "Did you tell him we'd be here tonight?"
Lorraine sat a little on edge. "Well..." she faltered. "I-I may have..."
"Mother," Kirsten scoffed. And all eyes at the table were on her. Even Cole seemed to know something was up. She drew a deep breath, determined to not let Ethan ruin her night. This place was plenty big enough. She would simply ignore him.
As Ethan followed the hostess to his table and flashed them a smile with a wave of his hand, Kirsten noticed a few ladies' heads turn. Of course, he would make heads turn, dressed like that. The man looked like an Hugo Boss ad. Kirsten scowled, determined to not let him affect her. Here she was, sitting with this super sexy, slightly-dangerous guy. Cole looked like the type who would be good under the sheets. She'd just have to focus on that.
As she nursed a gin and tonic, Kirsten tried to keep her focus on the man sitting across from her. They talked about their studies, Europe and Cole's current obsession, Italian artist Giovanni Boldini. This conversation was right up her alley, but damn, all she could think about was Ethan. She could see him in the back sitting with his two buddies and she wondered if he'd come up to say hello.
It seemed like their food order was taking forever to come. It was probably because Kirsten suddenly wanted to be anywhere but there. She smiled as Cole talked her ear off and she sat straighter when she saw Ethan approaching. She had been expecting him.
He flashed his charismatic smile. "Hello, ladies," he offered. "You two look in fine form tonight."
"Hello, Ethan," Lorraine replied, her tone uncharacteristically cold. Kirsten shot him a tight smile. It was awkward to say the least. Ethan paused, as if analyzing the situation and trying to understand why he wasn't receiving the usual cheerful reception. He offered his hand to Cole. "I'm Ethan. I'm the next door neighbor."
"Oh," Cole said, as if finally understanding. Kirsten thought she spotted a flicker of relief, like he had concluded in response to that simple statement that Ethan was no competition. "I'm Cole. I'm a good friend of Max's," he explained with a tilt of his head.
Lorraine broke in. "Max is my good friend," she offered by way of explanation. 'Good friend' was what she called Max. She couldn't bring herself to say 'boyfriend', which in her defense, would have sounded a little juvenile and ridiculous. Ethan shook Max's hand. "Well, it's nice to meet you all. This is a great place, isn't it?"
Please just leave, Kirsten thought. She really didn't have the patience for this. Visions of their last encounter and how he so cruelly dismissed her danced around in her head. She crossed her arms and lifted her nose, wanting to tell him off but not finding the words.
"I come here all the time," he went on. "Usually after work, with colleagues."
"I bet you do," Kirsten added. You psycho stalker.
He flashed her a playful grin, seemingly completely oblivious to the fact that she now despised him. "Up for a game of foosball later," he asked. "There's a game at the back."
"I doubt it," she snickered.
"C'mon, it'll be fun," he told her. "Remember what I told you about having fun. You need to let loose once in a while."
She had the urge to let loose alright, let loose and punch him in the face.
"I'm coming to get you later," he added with a wink, and despite everything she had told herself, her heart skipped a beat. Traitor heart.
Kirsten could barely eat her poutine. She had completely lost her appetite. Anger, nerves, anticipation… She didn't know exactly why she suddenly felt slightly nauseous. How could one man affect her body so much? She hated the fact that he still managed to get to her. How long would it be until he was finally completely out of her system?
As she shared a delicious fudge cake with Cole, she couldn't help but appreciate how well the date was going. He was everything she could have wanted, sweet, kind, sexy and smart. He seemed like a bit of a drifter, a dreamer. But that was not necessarily a bad thing since she was quite the opposite. And as they say, opposites attract.
She was digging into the fudge cake when Ethan popped up right next to her and made her jump a little. This time, she hadn't seen him coming. "So about that game of foosball?"
She shook her head. "Sorry, kind of busy."
He tilted his head. "Well, I'm sure Cole here won't mind," he said. "You don't mind do you, Cole?"
"Not at all."
"See, he doesn't mind," Ethan said and the next second, he was grabbing her by the arm and practically dragging her to the back of the restaurant. She struggled to keep up with him in her chunky heels. How she hated him.
"We need to hurry before someone steals the game," he told her as they raced by tables.
"I was in the middle of dessert," she pointed out. "And also in the middle of a very wonderful conversation."
"Discussing the merits of tattoos, I'm sure," he replied. And she didn't miss his sardonic tone.
When they inched near the aforementioned game, she could literally feel the anger rushing to her cheeks. "What is your problem?"
He jerked his head again and ignored her question. "Just one game. If you win, I'll leave you alone."
She was intrigued by the proposition, but also concerned. "But what if you win?"
"Um... let's see," he said, pondering the industrial lofty ceiling. "I'll still leave you alone and let you get back to nose-ring."
She sneered at him.
His grin was playful, and mildly annoying. “See? You win either way."
As they started playing, she was determined to beat his ass. She had a fair amount of practice at the game, having played with Logan often. He had a game at his place. She did love it which was why Ethan had so easily been able to convince her to play. It had absolutely nothing to do with how amazing he looked in that suit.
"You're pretty good at this."
She smirked as she scored. Two against one for her. "I know."
"So this thing with Cole," he ventured. "How serious is it?"
She rolled her eyes. It wasn't any of his business. "Why do you care?"
He shrugged, letting another goal in. "I don't."
"Could have fooled me."
He kept playing, not looking at her.
"Why are you here?" she asked, point-blank. "This can't just be a coincidence."
"I told you," he tried to explain but she knew better. "I come here all the time with my buddies."
"Sure."
He slammed his hand against the side of the game when she scored again. She was crushing him. "Fuck," he cursed. "All right. I admit it... I wanted to see the guy you were dating."
"Why?" she asked. They had both stopped playing. "Why do you care who I date? You obviously have no interest in me. I practically threw myself at you and you just brushed me off, like some dirt off your shoe.”
He fixed her with wide eyes. "I didn't..."
"And then you basically told me that you've had me and I was all used up.”
"I said no such thing, Kirsten," he argued, eyes wide. "What in the world are you talking about?"
She was on the verge of tears when she went on, despite knowing that she should just walk away and go back to that delicious slice of man-pie waiting for her. "You didn't want me. You said I was too easy. And the next day, you called the whole thing off."
He made his way closer to her and took her hand. His eyes were full of sorrow when he said, "I'm sorry, Kirsten. That's not how I wanted you to feel. I just thought you and I... we were getting a little too close. And I don't want to hurt you—"
"But you did," she cried. Tears had officially made their way to the surface.
"I didn't want to give you the wrong idea, Kirsten," he tried to explain. "You know me... I don't do relationships. I'm in it for the fun. I like to play. And you..." he went on, his gaze fixing hers.
"And me... what about me?"
8
I know you would never hurt me
God, she was so beautiful, standing in that slutty little dress, her eyes wet with emotion, with the
pain he had caused. He had done exactly what he was trying not to do. He had hurt her deeply. She had completely misunderstood him. He didn't think she was cheap, easy. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He thought she was precious, special, and too good for the likes of him. He wanted to take her in his arms and reassure her, kiss her pain away.
He knew he was only getting deeper, but he couldn't walk away. And he didn't want to. He took her by the hand and led her to the back. She eyed him curiously, and he knew she didn't quite trust him, but yet, she still followed him. They walked past the old vintage trunk coffee table and piano. They inched closer to the fireplace, the odd piece which looked like it belonged on the set of a sitcom show. She shot him a quizzical look as she studied the fireplace, knowing it wasn't real. He smiled at her playfully, pressed his palm against the fireplace, and shared a well-kept secret. Her eyes grew with fascination, like a kid's at an amusement park. “What the hell?"
As he turned the fireplace façade inward, toward the secret hidden room, he held her hand and brought her in with him.
As soon as they found themselves in complete seclusion in the small dark private room, he pulled her closer to him. He couldn't help himself. She was so beautiful, and he just wanted to revel in her. She stared at him with such a mix of emotions in her eyes, he didn't know what to think. What she mad? What she confused? In lust? In love? All he knew was that he definitely had a strong effect on her. He had a strong hold of her and didn't want to let go. But he felt her resistance and eased up on her.
"What in the hell are you doing?" she snapped. Okay, it was official. She was mad. Livid.
"I wanted to talk."
"I'm so sick of this hot and cold act," she hissed, completely worked up. "One minute you push me away, and the next you're all over me and squeezing me into dark little rooms."
He liked seeing her all worked up like this. She was so damn cute when she was angry.
"This might be the kind of thing that gets you off, but it's not for me. I don't like playing games, Ethan," she scoffed. "And if you think we're going to end up doing it on that sofa, you've got another thing coming."
She had noticed the sofa and her mind had gone there. She obviously was thinking about it as much as he was. He pulled her closer and trailed his finger along her thigh. He was suddenly losing his mind. He was dying to touch her, to feel her, discover her wetness, see how turned on she was by all this. Because he was sure she was.
"Stop it," she pleaded, a hand on his. "This is like living in a damn Taylor Swift song. I can't take the drama anymore."
He had never seen her so angry before and he could tell she meant business. He reluctantly let go.
She fixed him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen. "You don't want me," she pointed out. "But you don't want anyone else to have me either. Please let me go, and let me move on with my life."
She was right. He had to let go. And he was absolutely speechless. He watched her push the fireplace around and disappear into the bright busy restaurant. He took in the dark cozy space around him and couldn't help but imagine all the delicious filthy things he could have been doing to her, had she stayed.
Kirsten made her way back to her table, a little unsteady on her feet. She was shaken. When he had pressed her against that façade and brought her into that secret room, her breath had hitched and an ache had traveled from her stomach, to down below. She had wanted him so much. She had wanted him to hike up her dress and rip her panties off. And she would have let him, if he had. But she had been strong. She didn't want him to hurt her anymore, didn't want to give him that power.
She sat across Cole and flashed him an artificial smile. She grinned at her mother, who seemed to know what was up.
"How did the game go?" Lorraine asked, polishing off her dessert.
"Good," Kirsten said. "I beat him."
She took in the smiles all around and vowed to forget all about Ethan Fox, his pretty words and that sexy little secret room.
But as much as she wanted to forget all about him, she was simply incapable of doing so. Ethan was all she could think about as she chatted with Cole. It didn't make sense. Here was this beautiful sexy man in front of her, and all she could think about was this other man, this frustrating, arrogant, mind-fucking jerk. She had absolutely no control over her thoughts. Her body craved him like a drug, and no alternative would do.
Later that night, she slipped off her dress, and it pooled to the floor as she studied her reflection in the wall mirror. She was wearing a pretty lace see-through bra and panties. Her hair fell softly over her breasts, and her skin was glowing. She felt the pressure build within her, that all-consuming desire to be touched, cherished... to be taken.
One last time.
Ethan tossed and turned. He had gone to bed early in the hopes of falling into slumber and forgetting all about her. Thoughts of her had been driving him wild all night. When she had left him in that secret room, he knew she had been right, that he shouldn't be running after her. He understood he had to let her go. He wasn't the man for her. She deserved someone better.
As he joined his buddies back at the table, he tried to enjoy himself, forget all about her. But all he could think about was her and that guy Cole. The man was everything he deplored, an indulgent, carefree artist, the type who probably owned an extensive collection of vinyl LPs and typed letters to his grandmother on a vintage typewriter. Yes, the tattoos were bad-ass, Ethan conceded, but the guy was a pussy as far as he was concerned.
He pictured Cole's hole-in-the-wall apartment, filthy, messy, old warped books stacked against the wall. And that only led to visions of Cole seducing Kirsten, playing a folk song for her on his beaten-up acoustic guitar. And damn it if the guy didn't have a good voice too. Of course Kirsten would be getting all hot and bothered. That's when the asshole would make his move, press her against the wall, hike up that slutty little dress she was wearing, and rip off her panties, basically doing everything to her that he had wanted to do to her. And then the jerk would kneel to the floor and go down on her, and her breathless moans would echo off the walls as he made her come.
These images were not helping. They were slightly arousing, but also frustrating as hell.
Damn you, nose-ring asshole.
Ethan pressed a pillow against his face and smothered himself for a second or two. Temporary death would have been almost welcomed at this point, but there was no such thing as temporary death. How he would enjoy a nice coma, he mused, staring up at the dark ceiling, the lights from the city reflecting across it. He would from then on, be condemned to seeing someone he can't have, seeing her with men who would get to touch her, hold her... taste her. He realized he was never getting any sleep. It was a good thing the next day was a Saturday and he would be able to sleep in a little. He figured he'd probably still go to work after a late breakfast to keep his mind off her, and maybe to the gym afterwards to work off his frustrations.
When he heard the knock at his door, he thought it was his imagination. Who could be calling at this hour? But when he heard it again, he bounced off the bed. He made his way cautiously to the front door, wearing only his Calvin boxers. God, the last thing he needed right now was a problem with his apartment, or a loved one. His thoughts jumped instantly to Meghan. He honestly didn't know if he could handle something happening to his sister.
He may have been tall and built, but he was still looking into that peep hole. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her face. He opened the door in a hurry, wanting to know why she was there, at this hour. As soon as he saw her expression, he knew why she was there. He got hard in record time, wanting to fully devour her. He took her in from head to toe. She was wearing a sweet plush house coat, falling just below the knee, covered with ladybugs. It wasn't particularly sexy, but he knew underneath she was probably naked.
He pulled her in and slammed the door shut behind them. He pressed her hard against himself and took her mouth with a vengeance, unwillingly biting her bottom lip in the p
rocess. But she didn't seem to mind. She hung off him, and clawed at his back as his fingers got tangled in her hair. She smelled so amazing and her hair was so soft. This was already heaven, and he was nowhere near inside her. He wanted to savor her, to make this last. He didn't want to think about all the reasons he shouldn't be doing this. He just wanted to enjoy her.
He grasped the tie of her robe and she pulled away. "Just one night," she whispered, breathless. "One last time." Her beautiful eyes were so dark, almost haunting. There was a flicker of emotions he couldn't miss; fear, doubt, confusion, but mostly desire. She ached for him, and he loved that. He wanted her so much too. "Not here," she told him. "In your bed."
"In my bed," he said, his words heavy with desire. The thought of pressing her against the soft mattress of his bed, reveling in her body, slowly enjoying every inch of her, drove him crazy. He pressed his mouth against the base of her neck, tasting her, working the tie of her robe. They would get to his bed in a minute, but right now he wanted her naked. He had never seen her nude but couldn't count the times he had fantasized about it.
He pulled the robe open and swallowed hard when he saw the sexy two-piece she was wearing, a see-through fabric trimmed with dark lace and accentuated with little bows. She had managed to be both sweet and sexy. That was Kirsten in a nutshell. She bit down a playful smile and that only made him crazier. God, he wanted her. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"Of course not." She smiled. "Because if you were dead, then you couldn't please me, could you?"
Damn. He lifted and pressed her against the wall in a fraction of a second. Her robe had fallen off her shoulders and he bit her flesh gently. Her teeth scraped against his jaw as she frantically searched for his mouth. He’d never seen her like this. She was completely unhinged. She needed to be thoroughly fucked... and now. This was a most urgent matter.
He carried her to his room, her legs wrapped around his hips. She was light as a feather as they made their way to his bed. She bounced off the mattress when he threw her. He wasted no time in freeing her from the pink robe. And she surprised him when she peeled off his boxers and ran her hands over his ass. And when she held him in her hands, he thought he might just completely lose it. He had to shut his eyes and talk himself down. He pulled away softly. "I want to be with you..." he whispered. "Inside you."