She pulled her hand back and stabbed at the elevator button. “So you want to be done with this in a hurry.”
The hitch in her voice pierced a spot he thought couldn’t feel pain anymore. He was wrong, but she was right; it had sounded like he was in a rush. Jesus, he didn’t think he’d have to backpedal so early in their relationship, but he would. She simply had to stay with him until Megan was out of the hospital. Three weeks. He could grovel that long. Considering what he’d already endured, three weeks was nothing.
“I’m sorry, it’s been a long, emotional day, and that nap I had on the plane is wearing off. I’ve already promised I won’t rush our wedding night.”
She swallowed hard.
“What?” he asked.
She looked down. “Nothing. Forget it.”
The doors slid open with a soft ding, and he followed her into the elevator.
As the doors closed, he turned to her. “Tell me. I don’t want to ruin this for you.”
Her shoulders sagged. “You couldn’t do any worse than Smitty. He was so drunk; it was almost finished before I was in the room. He rolled over, fell asleep, and never came back for more.”
He slid a finger under her chin, gently nudging it until her eyes met his. “Never? Your marriage was a one-night stand? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Tears filled her eyes. “No, it doesn’t. Especially since he made such a big deal out of waiting for our wedding night. He claimed it was out of respect for my parents, but it was all about the money. My money.”
He reached out to brush away the lone tear that traced down her cheek. “I have plenty of my own money; I neither need nor want yours. Something I’m sure your attorney will make abundantly clear in the postnuptial agreement we’ll sign tomorrow.”
She cleared her throat and stepped back.
Oh, hell, now what? “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, I don’t like to talk about Smitty.”
And he didn’t like hearing about the man. But Ethan had his own issues. Contractually obligated to have sex once a day, twice on Saturday and Sunday. Well, they technically hadn’t signed the papers yet, but Ethan was a man of his word. Oh, sure, he’d bent and stretched a few things here and there, sometimes to the point he could hear them crying, begging for mercy, what lawyer didn’t? But despite how it played out in the media, at the end of the day, he was still an officer of the court: legally and morally bound to uphold the law. And that was something he took seriously.
Something else he took seriously? Looking after his clients. Opponents? He could, and did, slice and dice them in court and not lose a minute of sleep. And his clients loved him for it. Or did they love the big checks he handed them at the end of the case? Other than his sister, had anyone ever loved him? Ultimately, this was all for Megan. For Pete. To keep their pitiful little family together.
He caught his own reflection. Talk about a face that would scare the devil. He turned to her and forced a smile, the smile he usually reserved for clients. Well, she was a client of sorts. He turned away, but he couldn’t escape her. The dress she’d chosen, a soft green that made her eyes glow, reminded him of the one Marilyn Monroe had worn in that iconic flying skirt photo, a soft draping thing that hung perfectly on her curves. Stephanie had Monroe’s kind of timeless beauty, and how she couldn’t see it baffled him.
Had she been an ugly duckling too? Did she still see a long-gone image staring back at her in the mirror? God knew it had taken him a while to accept what his now perfect vision was telling him. Hadn’t anyone bothered to inform her she’d turned into the most beautiful swan on the lake? Were rich boys blind? Or cruel like rich women?
Not now, he warned himself. He focused on the music wafting through the elevator. What song was that? Bolero? The one Valarie had compared to sex? Slow and sensuous, building to a climactic crescendo. Yeah, he’d been taught to appreciate the “finer things” in life like classical music, but he didn’t need to hear it right now. Didn’t need to remember those wretched lessons. Was it a reminder from the universe... or an invitation to try again? Invitation declined. Send it to the dead letter office with his dead heart.
CHAPTER 19
ETHAN HUNG HIS JACKET in the closet and looped his tie around the top of the hangar. He paused to brush a non-existent piece of lint from the lapel.
“You’re stalling,” Stephanie accused.
He turned to her, his head nodding in agreement. He crossed his arms over his chest. “We don’t have to do this.”
Stephanie quirked a brow and mimicked his stance. “It sounds as if you’ve changed your mind. Don’t. I’ve kept my end of the bargain, now it’s your turn.”
Simple. To the point. No room for misunderstanding. The silence stretched out.
He pushed out a harsh breath. “You’re right.” He took a tentative step toward her and extended his hand, palm up, asking her to join him without saying a word.
This was it. Once she accepted his invitation, there would be no going back. Her head high, her eyes met his as she closed the rest of the distance between them and took his hand in hers. The heat of his simple touch exploded through her. “You look like a condemned man walking his last mile. There’s always the possibility you’ll enjoy this.”
He raised her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. “Oh, I plan to enjoy it,” he said, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair. “You smell so good.” His warm breath caressed her ear.
“You don’t have to seduce me.” She winced. That was borderline bitchy.
A disgusted huff ruffled her hair. She could almost hear his eyes roll.
“Just because this isn’t a love for the ages doesn’t mean it can’t be classy,” he said. “It won’t be good for me unless it’s good for you too. It’s an ego thing.” His lips claimed her neck where it met her shoulder.
“I wouldn’t think your ego needed propping up.”
His lips vibrated against her shoulder. “At this point, there’s a bumbling fourteen-year-old boy inside every man, and that boy is convinced he’s about to humiliate himself.” He sunk his teeth into her flesh.
Her stomach muscles clenched and fluttered. Butterflies? More like bees. Africanized bees. At war. “Oh.” The single syllable fell from her lips like a plea, and in a way, it was—a plea for more. She moaned. “I can’t remember the last time anything felt this good.”
His smile tickled across her heated skin.
“If I do something you don’t like, tell me.” His lips inched higher.
“Perfect,” she barely whispered. Her head fell back, exposing more neck for him to plunder.
He took the hint, kissing his way up her throat. The chill of goosebumps erupted, racing over her breasts, pebbling her nipples as they sped down her body, covering her belly and her hips. Chill was the last thing she felt as the sensation assaulted the excitable flesh between her thighs as they zoomed south, tickling the back of her knees, finally attacking her toes. More pleasure spread as his kiss inched up her neck, past her chin, until he finally took her mouth. Tenderly, tentatively, almost as if asking permission, his lips brushed over hers.
She leaned into the kiss, a silent yes screaming in her head. She parted for him, inviting him to play.
His tongue swept in, dancing with hers, teasing, tasting. He groaned into her mouth; his hands snaked down her back to cup her ass. He pulled her into him, his hips grinding into her, letting her feel the power of his arousal.
He pulled back, his forehead and nose touching hers. “You can say no at any point, and I’ll stop,” he mumbled before claiming her mouth again.
His lips massaged hers, gently kneading them, pulling them into his mouth. The kiss radiated out, settling in the small of her back where his hand rested. The warmth girdled her, spreading, colliding with the waves pulsing from other points of pleasure: her core, until every inch of her vibrated with want.
She took control of the kiss, lacing her fingers behind his head to draw him closer. T
he muted purr of her zipper being lowered drove her tongue deeper.
He slid the dress off her shoulders, his hands coaxing it faster as it passed her hips. It slithered past her thighs, pooling at her feet.
He let out an appreciative growl. “You’re wearing a garter belt and stockings.” His breath hitched. “And no panties? God, if I’d known that, we would never have made it through the ceremony. You’re going to leave them on, right?”
A wicked laugh gurgled in the back of her throat. “And the shoes?” She reached for the top button of his shirt.
His hands sought her breasts. He thumbed her nipples through the lace of her bra. “And the shoes. Definitely the shoes.”
His voice, thick with passion, electrified her. She finished unbuttoning his shirt. Her hands skimmed over his broad chest, up to his shoulders, pushing the shirt from his body. “I want to feel your skin on mine.”
Her bra was off before she finished her request.
He bent to claim one aching bud, sucking gently. Shockwaves of pleasure pounded her. Incrementally, he pulled back, stretching it until her nipple slipped through his lightly clenched teeth. “Magnificent.”
“The other one’s jealous,” she teased.
His deep chuckle sent more tingles coursing through her. “Can’t have that.” He planted a quick kiss on one nipple before claiming the other.
Was it possible to come from nipple play? Each kiss, each nip, each caress telegraphed sensations to her pleasure center. He sucked deeper, his lips worshipping one breast while his hand pinched and caressed the other. It was harmony and melody.
She fumbled with his belt, frustrated that her trembling hands weren’t cooperating.
He gently pushed her hands aside, quickly stripping himself.
She reached out to grasp him.
He fairly hissed. “Honey, that feels so good.”
Honey. The word oozed over her. She was his honey, if only for the next few hours. This was pure heaven. A man and a woman giving and receiving exquisite gratification. The way a wedding night was supposed to be.
He kissed his way down her throat, to her chest, and between her breasts. Her nipples pebbled tighter, urging him closer. He flicked his tongue over one, then the other. “My beautiful twins. I wish I had two mouths so I could suck both of you at the same time.”
The air in her lungs escaped with a whoosh. “I’m not sure I could stand that much pleasure.”
“Then hold on, babe, it’s time to find out where your limits are.”
He swept her into his arms and carried her the four steps to the bed. It was like she was flying—terrifying, but oddly safe and secure. For the first time in her life, she felt dainty.
With a smooth grace that should have been impossible for a man of his size, he laid her on the bed; her ass sinking into the decadent luxury a split second before her head hit the pillow. How had he managed to strip the comforter from the bed without so much as mussing a single hair on her head?
He knelt at the side of the bed. “Tell me, Stephanie,” his lust-filled voice filled her head, “what do you want me to do to you?
Hundreds of steamy visions filled her head, but the words jammed in her throat. Her mouth opened, but only a tortured squeak escaped.
He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Now you look like you’re about to meet the hangman. Trust me. I won’t hurt you. I’m fairly good at this. Or at least I used to be. Would you like to hear what I want to do to you?”
She nodded.
Her eyes drifted shut as he skimmed a finger down the slope of her nose past her lips, barely pausing to brush a caress over them, then traced her chin and throat. “First, I’d kiss my way down this long, delicious neck of yours, not stopping until I reached these rosy nipples.”
He plucked at her nipples before his lips claimed her ear, scorching a trail down, slaloming past the hollow of her neck. Her heart beat a vicious tempo as he attacked one nipple with his greedy mouth while his thumb teased the other tight bud.
She drew in a sharp breath as his teeth sunk into her nipple, soothing the sting with his tongue before attacking the other. A moan escaped from her parted lips. He pulled back.
Her eyes shot open at the loss, only to find him searching her face. “You still with me, Steph?” he asked.
“No place else I’d rather be,” she assured him.
A slow smile spread across his face. “Good. Because I still have to kiss and lick and nip my way down your stomach to your navel.”
Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Ethan meandered right, then left, as he incrementally worked his way down her body with his lips. And tongue. And teeth.
Her hips shot off the bed as his tongue circled her navel, then penetrated it.
“You like that, eh? Then you’re going to love this,” he crooned.
Without warning, his lips clamped over her clit. He sucked her deep into his mouth as his tongue teased and tapped at her swollen nub; the dual sensation unlike anything else she had ever experienced. Softly, he added his teeth to the mix. The tempo, wild and free, kept her off balance. Fast. Slow. Hard. Tender. Catapulting her to the edge of release before pulling her back from the brink. Daring her to come, then denying her. Time and time again, teasing and taunting her. It was like the man could breathe through his ears.
There wasn’t a jackpot in the entire town that could rival this.
“Please,” she begged.
The vibration of his muffled laughter against her core pushed her into the abyss. Her body jerked; her toes pointed as the orgasm attacked in wave after wave of bliss. The months of built-up sexual frustration oozed out of her. The pain of Smitty’s betrayal melted away. The stress of running a multi-million-dollar corporation dissolved. Grief and loneliness evaporated. Sated, she drifted on a cloud of pure contentment.
“Don’t check out on me yet, Steph. We’re nowhere near done,” Ethan said.
She opened her eyes a slit. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”
He rose up on his knees, nudging her legs apart. Taking himself in hand, he softly teased her still-sensitive bud, drawing ever-expanding circles until he traced her opening. His voice low, he asked, “Are you ready for me, Stephanie?”
This was her last chance to say no. Mere centimeters separated them. Separated her from the baby she craved. He groaned as she wrapped her hand around his length and guided him into her.
He entered her inch by slow inch, her body stretching around his girth. As if they were performing a highly choreographed dance, her hips rose to meet his thrusts. Advancing and retreating in time to music only they could hear, he buried himself deeper with each push until, with one mighty plunge, he filled her completely.
She couldn’t hold back the moan.
He hissed. “Oh, yeah, I like that too. Being inside of you is incredible. Hook those gorgeous, long legs of yours around my waist, Steph. Let me feel those monster heels dig into my back.”
She did as he asked, pulling him deeper into her, frantically rolling her hips.
His head lolled back. “Jesus, woman, slow down or I won’t last another minute. I promised you all night, and I plan to keep that promise.”
A naughty laugh gurgled up from the depths of her being. “I’m so close. Ride me hard, cowboy. Hard and fast. We can do slow and gentle some other time, but right now, I need you to own me.” To chase away the ghosts and the pain and the insecurities that plagued her.
An impish gleam flickered in his pitch-black eyes. “Your wish is my command, princess.”
ETHAN COLLAPSED ONTO the bed and pulled Stephanie with him. Wrapping his arms around her, he gathered her to his chest as they settled in. He inhaled deeply to catch his breath. “Yee-haw, little lady, that was quite a ride,” he drawled in his best cowboy accent. “It was amazing. Thank you.”
Valarie rule number one: always compliment and thank. Not too difficult, considering Stephanie had blown his mind. Uninhibited, she had been with him every step of the way. No a
dmonishment when he went off-script. Who needed a roadmap? Ad libbing was the way to go, living in the moment and letting the spirit move you. For once, he had been allowed to follow his instincts, in charge of his own pleasure, and he liked it.
She snuggled into him. Breathing hard herself, she responded, “Amazing might be too tame of a word. I had no idea it could be like that.”
She traced a lazy pattern through his chest hair with one finger. A simple act but tender and affectionate. And totally foreign. He closed his eyes and let the sensation permeate him.
He kissed the top of her head. “Now do you understand why frail, tiny women don’t interest me? For the first time in, well, in ever, I got to indulge without worrying about breaking my woman. You’re perfect for me.”
Perfect? Yeah, that was a sentence he’d like to grab back. Chalk it up to post-coital endorphins. Plus, he’d called her my woman. He should be freaking out about that, but he wasn’t. And that really freaked him out. Maybe tomorrow, after he’d had some sleep, the reality of his words would hit him. But not now. This was too special to ruin with a meltdown. All he wanted to do was slip into slumber with his arms around his lover unconcerned about how long she would let him stay before she decided it was time for him to leave.
She tugged on one of his chest hairs, letting it slip between her fingers. “Do you snore?”
He took her hand and pulled it to his lips for a tender kiss. “I used to rattle the windows, but I had a procedure to take care of it. And I do vocal exercises every morning to keep me from lapsing back into what some people considered to be my annoying South Philly accent.” Some people, AKA Valarie.
Damn it! There was only room for two people in this bed, and Valarie was not one of them. She did not belong here. She didn’t belong anywhere in his life. Not anymore. He shoved her out of his mind with the same brutal efficiency she had used to banish him.
Stephanie murmured, “It would be so hot if you would talk to me in your natural voice the next time we make love.”
She was open to role-playing. Good to know. He could go there. Gladly. This whole thing might not be so bad after all.
For Pete's Sake: An Enemies to Lovers Marriage of Convenience Standalone Romance Novel (Tobin Tribe Book 1) Page 10