Ethans Fal

by Dee Palmer

“Sorry, Ethan, but if this is just going to be physical…which it is.” I emphasise slowly. “Then you have to stop acting like a boyfriend.” He takes a large stride in front of me halting me in my tracks.

  “This is just physical, but I won’t be told when or where I can touch you…all of you. If I want to bend you over this garden wall and fuck you raw…I will. If I want to hold your fucking hand, I will. I touch you because I want to touch you, it doesn’t mean I want to marry you. So don’t read more in to everything I do or this won’t work.”

  “Fine!” I snap. “Just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

  “Since we are on the same page let’s just make it really clear. What about monogamy?” I chill from head to toe. It’s not like I have had many partners but I have never had multiple partners. I don’t think it’s wrong to want to have someone all your own. But Ethan isn’t my someone and this isn’t a relationship. I know I don’t want that but what does he wants…does he just want me? “I think it would be too much like a relationship to be exclusive, don’t you?” His tone is leading, but it feels like a half tonne kick in my chest: broken, winded, and sick, all at the same time. “Don’t you, Ada?” He pushes but if this is what he wants, I am not going to be so pathetic as to beg for more.

  “I do.” The words feel acrid on my tongue and I feel the pinch of prickles behind my eyes. Don’t fucking cry, Ada. You said you could do this. Focus on the fun…you don’t want a relationship and seeing Ethan with other girls will definitely secure that dead-end future you are intent on. He takes my hand and we walk in silence to Sheila’s studio.

  I wrap the silk robe Sheila bought for me for times when she is setting up or I am waiting for Burt to arrive, like now. Sheila brings me a mug of tea and some homemade cookies. I am usually hungry but after the breakfast I’m stuffed, I decline and just sip my tea. She has been uncharacteristically quiet this morning and she sits beside me with a weight that is palpable. “Is something wrong, Sheila? You don’t seem yourself.” I blow the steam from the tea.

  “Sweetheart, are you all right?” She grabs my free hand and holds it in both of hers and now I am really confused.

  “I’m fine, Sheila, why do you ask?” She looks at the obvious confusion on my face.

  “You have some marks on your thighs and bottom. You can always stay here in the studio, if you are unsafe Ada. You know where I keep the key–” I squeeze my eyes shut as a fierce flush of embarrassment colours my face, neck, and creeps downward across my chest.

  “Oh, Sheila, that’s very kind and I’m fine…really, nothing to worry about.” I scrunch my face up and hold my breath hoping she doesn’t want more details. Her face transforms before me from worry to enlightened. She taps her fingers on her tight-lipped smile and then waggles it in my direction.

  “Well, it’s about time you had some fun.” She chuckles and stands satisfied with my safety, she starts to tidy away her supplies for the day. “Although, if I had a paw print on my backside like that you would know the man that did it, because he would be the one in crutches.”

  “Don’t knock it til’ you’ve tried it, eh Sheila.” I chuckle.

  “You are a dark horse!” She fans herself and smiles at me with mischief in her crinkled eyes. “It’s always the quiet ones, but whatever floats your boat, Ada.” We both fall about in a fit of giggles when the studio doorbell chimes. We both look at each other with raised brows, Burt has a key. “I bet he’s lost his key, silly old sod.” Sheila goes to answer the door and I can hear some mumbled voices and a much heavier footfall on the rickety stairs than Burt would make. I tighten the tie around my waist and make sure I am decent. The door swings wide and Ethan dominates the frame with a furious scowl on his face. I only left him an hour ago, what could I have possibly done to cause that expression? He did the cooking, so if his flat has burnt down it wasn’t me.

  “You let Burt see you naked?” His steps into the room and slams the door so hard, the weak hinges groan and the frame shakes. I jump and step back as he strides toward me all power and fury. Shit, he looks hot. His eyes flick to the gape in the front of my gown and the way the material has bunched between my legs now that I have gripped my thighs together. I swallow the dryness in my throat and my tongue tries to wet my parched lips, but I have no moisture to spare. It is all gathering between my legs.

  “No, Ethan, I model for Sheila and Burt. If you must know, Burt has yet to draw a single hair on my body but he does do the most detailed botanical pencil drawings.” I point to some of Burt’s work that Sheila has proudly hung on the wall.

  “That just makes it worse, Ada, that you let a dirty old man ogle you for an hour and he pays you money, it’s …it’s just–”

  “Just what, Ethan? Burt does pay me, so does Sheila, but I’d do it for nothing. I’m not ashamed of what I do and one day Burt will find the courage to draw me. He’s not a dirty old man. He is nothing but a gentleman with me, which is more than I can say for you.” I put my hand on his chest to stop him leaning any further into me. His anger is coming off him in waves. I’m just hugely pissed off at his presumption.

  “Really?” He scoffs.

  “Burt never made me feel like a whore, that’s for sure!” I try to step to his side but he blocks me. His hands on either side of my body, trapping me against the window. “Back off, Ethan, you have no right to tell me what I can or can’t do. We are not even exclusive!” I practically snarl at him through gritted teeth. His lips curl in a knowing smile.

  “Then maybe we need to revise that.” He dips his head and I can feel his cool breath wash over my neck. I tilt my head to give him access but snap upright when I realise what I’m doing.

  “What? Only an hour ago you said you wanted the freedom to fuck and suddenly now you don’t?” His eyes are fixed on mine and I tremble with the intensity of his searching gaze. I try to keep my voice impassive, hiding the hope that crawls in my belly that he might want more from the deal.

  “I am not prepared to share what I consider mine, but I think it would be unfair to expect you to obey my wishes without some compromise on my part and I will expect you to respect my wishes all the same.”

  “I bet…wow you redefine, ‘cake and eat it too’, Ethan. This ‘I’ll have it my way, whatever’, works for you with the ladies, I take it?” My tone is clipped because I feel I am sat at a high stakes poker table and I’m the one holding dead man’s hand.

  “I have never done this before, Ada, so I’m still waiting to see if it works. You have the compromise, we are exclusive, but not committed to each other and you obey my wishes in all things.”

  “Yeah, about that…’all things’, Ethan…that–”

  “Your body, Ada. I demand that your body belongs to me.” His voice drops to a low, husky growl that vibrates from the tips of my hair to my toes. “Give me your body, Ada.” His lips touch my neck and I shiver and a deep moan escapes me.

  “You don’t fuck anyone but me?” I hate that my voice sounds as needy as I feel but I can’t help it. I want it even if it is a compromise for him. I’ll take it.

  “I don’t want to fuck anyone, but you. You have my word.” He draws in a deep breath and stands upright. The distance is unwelcome and I close my arms around my body at the sudden coolness. “Since you don’t trust me, I have to hope that my word is enough. Is it?” His brows knit together with anguish. I hate that I can’t ease that worry. It’s not that I don’t trust him because deep down I do, but I just don’t trust him enough. I don’t trust me enough.

  “It’s a deal…a new deal that is.” My words and light tone has an instant effect on the tightness in his shoulders. “So no more Burt, but Sheila’s okay?” I walk to the screen in the corner of the room, where my clothes are strewn on the floor.

  “Sheila is fine. She has my pictures to finish.”

  I snap my head round the screen. “You’ve bought a picture?”

  “I’ve bought several. I would’ve bought the entire collection, but the first releas
e has already been sold. Ada?” He drawls.

  “Hmm?” I start to pick my clothes and shake them out ready to dress.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting dressed and there I was thinking you were smart.” I snicker.

  “You still have an hour of modelling time so get back out here and let me see where I should put you.”

  I narrow my eyes at him as he looks around the loft space, his finger lightly tapping his chin. Like he is perusing the aesthetics of the room.

  “Sheila has nipped into town; left me her keys. Said she had some errands to run.” He casually informs me, his face impassive.

  “You’re serious?” I step back around from behind the modesty screen. His eyes widen and he fails to hide his pleasure in either his face or his jeans. “Very well.” I drop the gown from my body and walk slowly up to him, careful to add a little sexy sashay to my step. His breath catches and I hear a deep appreciative rumble from his chest. He lifts his hand and I step back shaking my head. “Ah ah, no…you don’t get to touch.” He purses his lips.

  “Surely, if the artist needs to position the model some touching is allowed?” He turns and walks to the door, clicks the lock and pulls the blind shut.

  “For positioning purposes only.” I confirm and he bites back his smile, as I pinch my legs together to ease the building ache. He nods silently in understanding and takes my hand. He places my hands flat on the back of a low chair causing a slight bend. He ever so slowly runs his hand down my spine until he reaches the middle, where he applies a little pressure and causes a deep dip and my arse to rise. He groans and I struggle to swallow. This is torture. He kicks my legs wide and uses the flat palm of his hands on my inner thighs to push a little further. The air circulates around my newly exposed flesh but it is ineffective at cooling me. I am on fire.

  “Just like that, angel.” His deep voice drifts as he disappears behind one of Sheila's easels. My back is aching, the muscles in my legs are screaming for movement, and the apex between my legs needs some serious attention. Ethan has silently studied me for close to an hour without so much as a whisper. He steps away from the easel once more and comes to stand directly behind me. He drops to his haunches and I peek beneath me to see what has him so enthralled. He flashes me the most nefarious smile, licks his lips and grabs the cheeks of my bottom.

  “Time’s up, angel.” He pulls my cheeks apart and swipes his tongue along my folds forcing a scream of shock and relief to leave my mouth. His tongue is urgent and firm, his lips suck and kiss me so intimately, my body starts the inevitable climb.

  “Oh…oh…shit!” I gasp, and the tension in my legs is failing, as all my muscles start to spasm. He grips his hands round the tops of my thighs and devours me, drawing every last bit of pleasure from my helpless body. I sink to the floor and he lifts me into his arms. “Shit, Ethan, you’re going to kill me.”

  “Death by orgasms…I can’t think of a better way to go.” His lips cover my mouth, his tongue dives in and tangles with mine. Our mouths entwined with such passion and urgency, we dance together mixing erotic flavours; he consumes me all over again.

  We are just waving goodbye to Sheila, when she calls out. “I know you’re not averse to a little spice, Ethan, I’ve seen the hand print but you might want to invest in a gag next time my boy.”

  Ethan chuckles and I flush with mortification, the only saving grace is the street is deserted.

  “Sheila!” Wide eyed, outrage and horror fills my face.

  “I will bare that in mind, thank you, Sheila.” He pulls me along the road, as my feet had frozen with disbelief. After a few steps, I notice Ethan’s thumb absently strokes the raised skin on my wrist under my bands. His fingers entwined with mine, he is not just holding my hand, he is holding me.

  “I’LL BE GONE most of this week.” I pull the covers down from Ada’s now screwed up face as she fights to stay asleep. I brush the hair from her face and just wait until she opens her eyes. I’m not leaving until she has opened her eyes and has given me my morning kiss at the very least. I know it’s early, but it is the only way to drive to London and not spend most of the day parked on the motorway. The last three weeks have been unexpected. For two people adamant about keeping what we have purely physical, we have slipped into an easy, comfortable routine. This feels so much better than anything I could’ve imagined a real relationship would be like. I make breakfast every morning, walk her to Sheila’s studio before my run. At lunch time, I’ll bring her some food on the beach and ignore her blatant trading and we meet at the bar in the evenings. Sky is on holiday, so Ada seems more than happy to hang with me and Buddy. She even covered a few shifts when the bar got busy, but I still couldn’t get her on the books, she said she was helping Buddy and didn’t want the pay. In fact when I tried to do a search for Ada Burrows, I couldn’t match any of the faces or dates on any social media site or recruitment profiling sites to the girl sleeping in my bed.

  She reaches her hand out to try and grab the covers grumbling and cursing. It’s cute. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed and her hand lands on my lap. Her fingers feel the familiar path to my hardening erection and the corner of her lips start to curl upward. This is by far the best bit of our non-relationship. I get to sink inside her whenever I want and she is just as greedy for me, just as insatiable. Not that she gets the chance to make demands, I am demanding enough but she never says no…ever. It’s like she needs the peace that single moment of pure pleasure affords. A brief moment when she is truly happy. Like a breath to live, but it feels like she is trying to store these fleeting moments, because ultimately she is waiting for the end. That underlying sense of doom clouds the brightness in her eyes from time to time and despite my best efforts, she still won’t tell me the cause.

  It’s driving me mad and that is why I am meeting with Daniel’s security guy in London later. I want answers before I fall any harder.

  Her small hand curls around my length and she finally opens her eyes. “You said that last time and you were gone two days. You frightened the crap out of me sneaking into my bed that late.” I groan because she has unzipped my jeans and has loosened enough material to free my aching cock. Her languid strokes are heavenly and my hips jerk to the same rhythm as her hand.

  “I don’t like you sleeping in your bed when I’m here.” God, that feels good. “I don’t like you sleeping in your bed when I’m not here.” I groan and reach to thread my hand into the back of her hair and grip tightly. “Before you think of a smart remark, I have a much better use of that mouth.” She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes darken, and she lets out a sensual sigh that kisses just where I want her mouth. A rapid sequence of movement ensue highlighting my urgency. I strip my jeans, straddle her shoulders and place the tip of my cock against her tightly closed lips. Her lids are heavy and she is drawing in deep sensual breaths through her nose. She wriggles against her restraint but the fire and lust in her eyes are pure sin. “Angel, I don’t have time to torture you. I want you to be a good girl and open those sweet lips. I am going to fuck your mouth, come down your throat, and leave you begging for my return.” Her eyes widen with lust but quickly narrow with understanding. This morning is for me.

  I pinch her nose and she gasps, enough for me to slide right in. Her lips and tongue aren’t getting the message that she is pissed with me because they are working just fine, swirling, and sucking drawing me all the way in. Her hands grab around the backs of my thighs, massaging the muscles that drive me deeper into her throat. I lace my hands through her hair and support her neck, fistfuls of thick locks secure her to my pace. I push deep and hold, she relaxes her throat and I sink a little deeper. Then she swallows and fuck my release hits me like a freight train. “Ahhhh, fuck!’ I let go of her hair with one hand and slap it hard against the wall to prevent me collapsing on her. My hips jerk uncontrollably and I am in a daze, euphoric exhaustion sweeps my body, and all I want to do is curl up with her in my arms. She continues to lic
k me clean, her talented tongue flicking along my stiffness as I slip from her. Sitting back on my haunches, I look at the most beautiful sight before me. Her dark hair is in disarray, a mass of curls and tangles. Her eyes a watery and crinkled with a tentative smile. Her cheeks are flushed and breathless little pants escape her swollen lips.

  “I’ll be gone a week and I’m taking the key to the play chest with me.” I move off the bed and put my jeans back on tucking my still hard cock in my pants.

  “What?” She sits up, instant outrage on her face. Adorable.

  “You heard, you don’t get to play with the toys unless I’m here. I didn’t make that clear last time I went away. I won’t make that mistake again.” I lean down and cup her chin. “Mine, Ada. All your pleasure is mine.” Her eyes are black with my words and as much as she might feel indignant about it…she is also really turned on. I follow my words with a kiss, deep and possessive. She is the reason I didn’t stay for the whole week last time, with Luca’s blessing and the work Dad needed me to do, I could’ve easily stayed longer but I crammed it all into three days. She snuggles back down into my bed, shifting restlessly, wet and aching for me–perfect. I just know I am going to do the same this trip.

  It doesn’t matter how early I hit the road when I reach the M25, it’s a car park. My phone pings with a message, it’s just after nine and I have been driving for five hours. I smile because I know Ada would have just finished her session with Sheila and I like that her first thought is me. I flick the message open while the car is parked.

  I’d like to cook a meal for you when you get back but I need to know the day. I mean the actual day. Oh and what you like?

  The traffic starts to move and it’s another thirty minutes before it grinds to a halt again. There are several messages when I look.

  Only if that’s ok with you? It’s fine if you don’t want me to. It’s just you always cook breakfast and I thought it might be nice.