by Dee Palmer
“I know that, Sky, and I impose enough. Any more and I’d feel like a mooch. Besides, on a night like this…have you seen those stars? Even a night in a fancy hotel would be hard pressed to top that view.” She narrows her eyes like she doesn’t believe me, but it really isn’t a big deal. With my winter accommodation at Joan’s, and sofa hopping at friends throughout the summer months, I probably don’t spend much more than two weeks combined sleeping outside and I know I am damn lucky it’s not much longer.
“Okay, sweetie, your decision. Now, let’s go cause some chaos.” She grabs her keys and hands me the bottle of Jack.
It’s near eleven o’clock when we arrive at Ethan’s and there is absolutely no space. Bodies are crammed, music is thumping, and I feel for old Burt next door. I hold my bag as some sort of protective barrier. It’s big enough with my change of clothes, pillow, and sleeping bag to be an effective shield. Ethan appears from nowhere just as Sky vanishes into the swell of people with my bottle.
“Are you moving in? It’s a little fast but–” He nods to my bag and raises an amused brow.
“You’re funny.” I say without humour. “I’m staying at a friends and needed to bring my stuff, that’s all. Is there somewhere safe I can put it?”
“My bedroom; you do remember where that is, don’t you?” He doesn’t have to lean so close, he could just shout over the music but I shiver, because his cool mint and mojito breath warm my neck.
“I said safe.” I try to lean away but he mirrors my retreat and his lips carve a delicious, sinful look across his face.
“The spare room then.” He grabs my hand and with a firm grip that sends a tightening sensation in my tummy, he leads me through the crowd and straight into his spare bedroom. The door closes and the noise from the party is now muffled, but all I can hear is the blood pulsing through my veins. I am holding my bag like a life raft, clinging for its safety. He tugs the loose handle, and tries again, much harder, before I let go. His eyes widen, his pupils dark and dangerous. Shit. “Wow! Ada you look…good enough to eat.” I can’t deny the draw, the tension, and desire coursing through me, but I can deny doing anything about it while a hundred people or so are just outside the door.
“Ethan, this must be the classy gentleman side of your personality I have yet to experience. Or as host do you always disappear to fuck strangers at your parties.” I get an unpleasant twinge at that thought and even more so at his unashamed grin.
“I don’t think we qualify as strangers anymore.” He steps closer and I step to the side and turn away from him, my hand on the door knob.
“And I don’t think you qualify as a gentleman.” I quickly escape back into the main room. Did I just accuse him of ungentlemanly behaviour, when I was just as guilty for my lack of self-restraint and decorum in the library. Oh, and in here for that matter. I glance around his living area, with a flashback, instant recall heating my face–yes and in here too. He may be no gentleman but I get a little spike of pleasure knowing that I’m no lady either, at least in everything bar my birth name. I wriggle my way and try to lose myself in the thick mess of heaving party people.
I don’t think it was a conscious decision as such, or just an unnerving need for self-preservation, but in the middle of the mayhem I get a much needed moment of clarity. I have to stay away from Ethan. I can’t seem to summon any will to deny him, to resist his lure, and his innate promise of unbridled pleasure he’s so ready to lavish on my wanton self. The effects he has on my body…I have never experienced anything like that kind of high. It’s intoxicating, it’s seductive, and it seriously clouds my judgement. I have to step back and put it in its rightful box. It’s just amazing, ‘almost’ sex. But even uncomplicated, close-encounter sex is a complication I don’t need–and Ethan feels a lot like a huge complication.
I weave my way to the kitchen and fill a plastic cup with tap water, I put in some ice and a slice of cucumber. It looks at least like a Gin and Tonic, and I won’t have to explain why I’m not drinking in a town where there are no designated drivers because everyone has walked here. There are a lot of people here I don’t recognise, but that’s what happens when you have an open house invitation in a holiday town. There are enough that I do know though, and I gravitate toward them: Jake, Buddy, Sky, Sandy and Carla, other waitresses at the bar standing in a semi-circle with Jax, Trunk, and Nik, Jake’s surfing buddies.
I haven’t seen Ethan for over an hour and everyone is getting increasingly drunk and silly, but the music is awesome and I start to dance a little more freely on the edge of the room. Sky pulls me into a small clearing and with back-to-back Niki Minaj and Pussy Cat Dolls, I slip into some long forgotten sluttier routines. Oblivious and just enjoying the sensual beat throbbing through my body, I happily drop the odd provocative move, safe in the comfort of the corner surrounded by my closest friends. Tove Lo’s Talking Body erotic beat blends seamlessly and I feel a shift in the air around me. Everyone is dancing just the same, the noise is just as deafening but I feel him. My breath hitches and a moment in time suspends with pure erotic tension. His large hands slide around my waist from behind, his palm flat, hot on my tummy, which flutters so much I’m sure he can feel it. I tense at first but my body relaxes of its own volition, and I don’t fight it. He pulls my back against his front and swings his body with mine. It’s a natural, easy rhythm, not a clumsy attempt at a sexy bump and grind, but in an actual sexy, sensual sway. He spins me with confidence and moves my body in what feels like a well-rehearsed dance sequence.
He can move; God, there’s possibly nothing more sexy that a man who can lead on the dance floor. His eyes light with a blaze of intensity when my body responds to his nonverbal command. Tight sharp dips and spins, I fit perfectly against his solid frame, every bend is easy and fluid against him and I can feel my temperature rise, but not from the exertion of the dance. His leg wedges between mine, the extent of the penetration prohibited by the full length maxi dress. The material does have enough stretch that I can feel the hotness of his muscular thigh against my own raging heat. He drops the hold on my forearm, allowing me to succumb to gravity and slide down the length of his leg. A sharp jerk and pull lifts me clear off the floor, and he twists me around his body. His fingertips grip a little harder than necessary into the flesh of my bottom before he removes one hand and expertly dips me back. He follows my arched body, backward dip almost to the floor. He pulls back slightly and drags his other hand down the centre of my chest, scorching a path with his touch and causing a howl of wolf whistles and cheering. He scoops me up, my legs would normally and naturally want to wrap around his trim waist but thankfully my dress prevents it. There would be no hiding how turned on I am if I were flush against him in such an intimate hold. As it is we are pressed together so tight, I can feel his heart beating a strong staccato under my fingertips. His breath is on my lips and every part of me trembles. My body is silently screaming, ‘This isn’t a complication, this is a necessity’.
“You know what you are, Ada?” His eyes bore through me with pure fire just waiting to consume me…make me burn. I swallow thickly; my mouth is so dry and my heart is fiercely shaking my body from the inside. I can’t answer. I try but nothing comes out. I shake my head in response. His lips curl in a sexy, tender smile but his next words crush me. “Mine.” His lips possess mine, his body engulfs me, and his embrace is so secure, I crumble. When he pulls back, even the slight distance, I feel as if it were a Continent keeping us apart. My chest tightens; my skin flushes with desire and pure panic. I am gasping for air and some distance. I can’t breathe and I can’t think.
Sky helps, a timely and perfect interruption. She bumps up behind me, wraps her arms around my waist, and holds on to Ethan’s button down shirt at the side, gripping fistfuls of material. Her attempt to encourage a three way grind is all wrong, but it does ease all the burgeoning tension and gives me the opportunity to wriggle out and leave them together in an awkward semi-embrace. Ethan’s posture is noticeably more st
atuesque and I can feel his glare on me the entire time I work my way back to his spare room.
I don’t bother changing, just slip one of my many layers on because I need to leave. I just don’t trust myself and I can’t risk getting involved with anyone. I stuff Sky’s fancy shoes in the bag and sling my large sweatshirt over my arm, as Ethan’s apartment is too hot to wear it right now. I hunch low and pick myself an exit route but before I can open the front door, Buddy stops me.
“Let me walk you.” His voice drops to this level when he is serious.
“I’m fine, Buddy. You don’t have to do that. I haven’t been drinking, so I think I can find my way to the b–” I stop myself because Ethan is now at Buddy’s shoulder, shooting heated daggers at me.
“You’re not sleeping on the–”
“Buddy!” I shout my interruption, my wide eyes and angry expression make him bite his words back but he still looks mad.
“I won’t have to say anything if you let me walk you home.” I hear his latent threat loud and clear. I don’t want Ethan to know where I’m sleeping any more than Buddy wants me sleeping on the beach.
“Buddy, I’m not having this discussion now. You never get to party and I’m not having you cut it short for me.” I try to place a soothing hand on his arm. “Why is this suddenly a problem for you now? I’ll be fine.”
“Really, because most of these arseholes Ethan has let in here, you don’t know and are drunk as fuck and will be spilling onto the beach any time now.” He leans his full weight against the door.
“What’s that got to do with Ada? If she wants to leave, she can leave.” Ethan’s clipped tone is full of open hostility. I can’t catch a break; no angry men for nearly four years and now two in one night.
“And I want to leave.” I fire a determined look at Buddy and try my best to ignore the pent up boiling rage of male next to him.
“Look, Ada, after that little dance just now, there is not a male in this room that wouldn’t want to….” He doesn’t finish his sentence but his meaning is crystal clear. He waggles his finger up and down my body uncomfortably. “Hell, there’s not a woman either, judging by what Sky has just told me. So, how about you do me a huge personal favour and let me walk you home.”
“If anyone is walking her home it’s me.” Ethan practically growls and stares Buddy down. I’m too tired for a pissing contest, which I know isn’t Buddy’s intention, but I also don’t need Ethan escorting me to my bed under the stars.
“No and no!” I look pointedly at both of them, but my expression softens at Buddy’s concern. He grabs my hand and discreetly presses his keys into the palm.
“Please, I’m staying here tonight.” He holds my gaze until I give a little nod of acceptance. He eases off the door, but Ethan slaps it shut.
“Do you mind telling me what that was all about?” He wedges his way between Buddy and me, and practically blocks out the horizon with his looming frame. “Why has Buddy just given you the key to the bar? Don’t you have a home? It was you yesterday morning on the beach at dawn. Do you sleep on the beach, Ada? Why do you sleep there? Are you homeless? I thought Buddy was being dramatic Trying to get me to change my mind about you keeping your job.” He asks and answers his own question. He can’t contain the shock in his voice. His face is a picture of incredulity and pity. I hate the pity in his expression most of all. It irritates the fuck out of me and I snap at him.
“Tell you what, Ethan, lets kick all these good people out and we can have an all-night heart to heart.” I barely finish my sentence when he grips my hand to stop me leaving. His fingers entwine with mine and his hold is more than secure…with my rings, it’s painful. He pulls me across the room to where the music is blasting and pulls the plug. Shit!
There is a surreal moment of complete silence when people look at each other with utter confusion, and check for the apocalypse. What follows is a blur of irritated, argumentative, and finally, resigned and evicted revellers. The room is clear, except for Buddy and us; Ethan’s fingers still hold on so tight, he has me pulled against his side. I hand Buddy his keys when he approaches, his easy smile has a tinge of concern but he is not so troubled now that he knows I won’t be sleeping vulnerable on the beach. How safe I am in this apartment remains to be seen; there are more than the elements I need to fear in here and my tummy clenches with the uncertainty.
“Later man, great party.” Buddy gives a wry smile and Ethan stiffens when he leans in to kiss my cheek. Once the front fire door takes its sweet time to close, I find that I’m nervous and a little speechless. I pull my hand and after a frown flashes across Ethan’s handsome features, he lets me go. I wrap my hands around my tummy, feeling the intensity of his gaze and all his unspoken questions. The silence is excruciating, so I start to clear the empty bottles, just to do something– anything.
“Stop that.” I look up at him when he takes the bottle from my hand. He threads his other hand around my neck holding the pressure firm, his eyes–oh, God, his eyes–are the darkest chocolate and just as bitter sweet.
“Ethan I…I can’t.” I bite my lips together to stop myself. He traces the thin line of my lips with his thumb.
“I held up my end of the deal, Ada.” He takes my shoulders and walks me back to his sofa, bending around to make a quick sweep of the debris before he gently sits me down. “Wait there.” I get a deep churning inside that feels a lot like relief with a mix of terror. Ethan returns with two glasses of brandy by the smell of them and he then carefully arranges me so I am comfortably positioned between his legs, sideways so he can maintain his potent, probing stare. He clinks his glass against mine and draws in a deep breath, like he is suddenly nervous.
“I’m adopted.” My mouth pauses at the lip of the glass and drops. I did not see that coming. “I’m telling you this because everybody has a story and sometimes when you share it’s not nearly as bad as you think it’s going to be.” He slowly sips his drink and I find I am drawn in by the soft turn in his voice and the thoughtful, distant expression on his face. “I don’t know who my birth parents are and considering where I was found, I count myself lucky. I count myself even more fortunate that I had the parents I did growing up. Social Services found me when the police raided the brothel where I lived. I actually remember being really upset because they were taking me away from the ladies who were really kind and loving to me. I didn’t care so much about the guy who ran the place. He was an arsehole, even if I didn’t know the word at the time. I knew enough and he was a real piece of shit to treat the women so badly, when they were nothing but kind to me. I was five years old when I was rescued, but I only have sketchy memories of my life and none of it was before my time at the brothel.
“That was my life and it was all I remember, that and feelings of being scared, often hungry but also safe. It wasn’t love but I definitely felt cared for and I cared right back.” He knocks back his drink and pointedly looks at me. That ‘norm of reciprocity’ would dictate it’s my turn now and surprisingly find I want to tell my tale. But how can I, when I have so much to lose? If my father ever found me. I doubt I would see the light of day again. This fear alone has stopped me from going to the police to try and find Pip. What kind of mother does that make me? More concerned with her own freedom. How could anyone think that this is okay? Ethan might pity my situation, but at least he doesn’t look at me with disgust and disappointment.
“You can’t choose your family, that’s for sure.” I try to keep my tone light-hearted with a slight smile. but it catches on my lips at his sombre façade. I avert my eyes because I can’t bare the scrutiny. I try to wriggle off his lap, but he clamps his arm around me and grips my hip. “I know what you are doing…it’s just….” This just feel too raw. He has opened up so freely and I am unable to give him what he wants. “My situation isn’t so bad, Ethan. I live here, in a house for maybe eight months out of the year. It’s just the summer time that gets a little tricky, which is fine because I know I am lucky–”
“But why?” He interrupts and I let out a heavy sigh. He looks fixed and determined to get some answers and I am tired enough to give them, so I decide to give him something and hope it’s enough.
“I ran away and I need to stay that way. It’s complicated and it’s better if you don’t know.” I can feel him stiffen and I think maybe that hasn’t placated him at all. If anything, he looks more exasperated. “Ethan, I appreciate your concern and telling me everything you have. I don’t know what to say.” I confess.
“You could tell me what you think is so bad, you can’t tell me. How about that?” He coaxes with a tender smile, but I close my eyes at the possibility that I could expose myself in this way.
“I can’t, but I’m a big girl and this really has nothing to do with you.” I move quickly enough to leave his lap but his sad eyes make me stop. I run my hand through his long floppy fringe. “Ethan, if I could tell you, I would. You seem like a really nice guy, but–”
“I’ll take that.” His change in mood is abrupt and his smile is infectious. It instantly lifts the dark cloud that had descended. He cups my cheeks and plants an exaggerated, sloppy kiss on my shocked lips. “Hey, if I can go from being hated to really nice guy in forty-eight hours, how long do you think it will be before you can trust me with all your secrets?” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer before he has me in a tight hug that rivals Buddy’s for comfort, but exceeds his in intimacy. “Let me show you to your room.”
“Ethan, this place is a tip. Shouldn’t we clean up first?” I look around at the party explosion that is his living room: upturned bottles, food scattered, half empty glasses, all evidence of everyone’s hasty retreat. There are cushions and items of clothing all over the floor, and the kitchen doesn’t have an inch of clear surface. He looks around as if seeing it for the first time, his shoulders sag a little. “It won’t take that long; it’s mostly surface shit. I’ll get the bin bags, you straighten the furniture.”