“I'm sorry,” Ethan says again.
“I don't want you to be sorry!” I throw up my hands and shout. “I want those eight years back! I could've been with you this entire time!”
“I thought you hated me for what happened to your leg.”
“Fuck my leg! I hated you because you weren't there. But you were!”
“Fuck!” Ethan yells and runs his hands through his hair. “I'm here now, Les.” He growls before he storms over to me. Grasping me in his arms, he yanks me closer. “I fucked up. Over and over I let you down when you needed me. I'm here now and I'm never letting you go again.” His mouth crashes over mine and I cry from the pain and pleasure coiled within me.
Ethan grips my legs and lifts, sitting me on the island. My black dress rises and bunches around my waist as my legs wrap around him and he claims my mouth again. I’m desperate for him. His hands are on my face, our lips crashing over each other as we drown in our kisses. His hands run up my thighs and I moan against his lips.
Every move is hungrier than the last.
Every kiss is desperate.
Every moan is exhilarating.
I yank his shirt over his head and he finds the zipper to my dress. I toss his shirt on the floor and then run my hands down his chiseled chest.
He is a man, no longer the boy I once knew.
“I need you now,” I whisper in his mouth.
He yanks off my dress and tosses it behind him. His gaze is glued to my body and I can’t wait another second. My breasts are heavy, only inches from his face, and I need his mouth on them. I reach behind me and unclasp my bra, my nipples hard from the cool air. Ethan growls under his breath, and cups one breast with his hand. I moan at his touch and throw my head back, waiting for him to have me. His warm tongue circles my nipples until I’m begging him for more.
“Please, Ethan, I need you,” I bellow out in ecstasy.
He lifts me off the counter and carries me to the couch. I sit back as he tugs his pants off. My mouth waters, looking at his chiseled chest, defined abs, and the perfect V that peeks out from under his boxers. His hands trail my body, flicking my nipple as his right hand lifts my chin to meet his green eyes.
“I need you,” he whispers.
My back is flush against the cool leather as he drops to his knees. I’m breathless, panting as his hands make their way to my thighs. My core aches to be touched. The way his fingers crawl up my body ignites an internal inferno. The way his eyes glare at me as if I’m beautiful tears down all the walls I’ve built around my heart.
His lips tease the skin of my upper thighs as he lowers my thong. The warmth of his tongue causes me to tremble. I feel his breath, feel his lips kissing my arousal. When he lowers himself to my core, I melt at his touch.
“Please,” I beg. “I’m going to . . .”
Ethan’s tongue twirls, circles, and licks every last drop of my orgasm. When the trembles subside, he positions himself at my entrance, pushing inside of me, fulfilling my hunger for him. A hunger only he can tame.
His pace is slow at first, allowing me to feel every single inch of him. Pulling out to the tip, he slowly pushes back in until I’m gasping for air. He grunts; I moan. We find our perfect tempo, and dance to it until we can’t take it anymore. My back arches as another orgasm forms. I moan sweet renditions of his name, my skin igniting, goose bumps rising with each thrust. Ethan’s eyes lock on mine as he drives deeper, savoring the seconds that have passed.
My hands run across my chest, cupping my breasts. I take my nipples between my fingers. My climax is near, and I’m relishing the moment until I can no longer. “I’m . . .”
“Me, too.” He grunts, holding my thighs as he drives deep inside me one last time, releasing himself. Gasping for air, we come together, the world around us ceasing to exist as we travel to the abyss.
16
PRESENT
The memories invade my mind; it’s the same nightmare that has haunted me for years. The pain is unbearable. It shoots up my leg like battery acid being poured over my bones. I sit up on the bed and grab my ankle. Tears pour down my cheeks as I try to rub the anguish away. It’s been months since I’ve had a spasm like this. My fingers dig along my shin, rubbing my muscles. It's my brain reminding me what happened.
I try to be quiet since Ethan is sleeping next to me, but I whimper through the pain. I don’t want him to see me like this. Not when we have spent the last few hours making love to each other. From the couch, to the floor, to the kitchen counter, we took our time making up for lost years. Seeing me like this now will only bring up the past for him.
“Hey.” He turns to face me. His voice is low and hoarse.
“Go back to sleep,” I whisper, wiping away my tears. Slowly, I try to move away from him so he can’t see what I’m doing.
Ignoring my request, he sits up on the bed and grabs my leg. “Where does it hurt?”
I don’t want to admit to any pain, but swallow back my instinctive denial and lower my head. “Around my ankle and my shin.”
His strong hands rub my ankle in a circular motion. We don’t speak as the minutes pass and he works vigorously on my leg. His thumb kneads the muscles and the pain slowly drifts away. When he leans down and kisses the scar he has been tracing with his fingers, I cover my face and cry harder. That marred skin is a permanent reminder of all that has happened. All I have to do is look down and a wave of dreadful memories drown me.
“I'm so sorry, Les,” he whispers, kissing my scar again.
I pull my foot away from his grasp. “I’m okay,” I say in an attempt to convince us both. “I promise.”
“Does this happen often?”
“It hasn't happened in a few months.”
“Come here.” He leans back on the bed and pats his chest for me to lay on. His oversized T-shirt hangs off my shoulder and I curl around him. Our faces are mere inches from each other. In his arms I feel safe. He brushes back my hair and kisses the tip of my nose.
“I'm so sorry for the pain I have caused you. You're the last person I ever wanted to hurt.”
“I know,” I whisper, and kiss his bare chest. His strong arms drape over my body and shield me from the pain.
A few minutes pass and my mind is racing. “Can I ask you a question?” I say and sink deeper into his arms.
“Anything.” He kisses the top of my head. His fingertips rub gently along my skin.
“Whatever happened with the cops after the whole Jerry thing?” I wait silently for his response.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” I look up at him and he shrugs. “Your uncle was the sheriff.” I can’t hide the shock in my voice.
“Yes, my uncle was the sheriff who was thrilled to not have to deal with Jerry’s blackmails anymore.” Ethan chuckled.
“They just looked the other way?” I can’t hide my surprised reaction.
“No. There were a few detectives on the case that Jerry took care of on the side. They wanted a full-blown investigation. I wouldn’t say a word to anyone, and the only story they had was yours. My uncle closed the case and said it was self-defense. Since Jerry isn’t able to say what happened, it was a done deal.”
I nod and force everything out of my mind.
“What made you think of that?” He moves his hand from my back and uses it to brush at my hair.
“I guess the nightmare brought it all back.” I sniffle back and exhale slowly. “My father kept me in the dark for so long I had no clue what happened. I grew depressed as the weeks passed, and when my father offered me a ticket to UCLA I never looked back. I guess I was curious to know if you ever got in any trouble.”
“It’s all over now. We are finally safe.”
Closing my eyes, I hear his heart beating in his chest. The sound is soothing, but before I can protest and say that until Jerry’s dead we will never be safe, I drift back to sleep without any more interruptions.
When I wake up, the sun is bright in his room and the bed is emp
ty. The smells of bacon and fresh coffee waft through the room, and I extend my hands overhead, stretching before I crawl out of bed. A shirtless Ethan is in the kitchen standing over the stove. Not thinking twice, I walk right over to him and wrap my arms around his body. The scent of him is enticing; the muscles that wrap around his body are addicting. Gently, I bite his upper back.
“Good morning,” he says. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” I say and kiss his warm skin. At the moment I’m not sure if I’m hungry for breakfast or him.
Ethan turns the stove off and spins around. Instantly, his lips are on mine and his hands coil through my hair. “There's coffee, tea, and orange juice.” He buries his face at the hollow of my neck and inhales. “I made bacon and eggs, but your scent seems more delectable.
We stay in each other’s arms for a few more minutes before we move to the barstools. With our plates in front of us and our eyes locked on each other, we eat our breakfast. We don't speak but there's a sense of feeling between us. A sense of familiarity. A sense of home.
Ethan had always been my home. My entire life I felt a part of me was missing. I was always trying to be a better dancer for my mom, and the smartest kid in my classes to impress my dad. But never once did I feel I belonged. It wasn’t until I befriended Ethan that I felt I was destined to be in someone’s life. We were destined for great love. One that didn’t require us to speak while eating.
Once I'm done with breakfast, I load my plate into the dishwasher. Ethan's lower back is resting against the edge of the counter, and when I turn toward him, he's watching my every move. “I should get going,” I say nervously. Though I’ve felt at home this entire time, the nightmare from last night has caused my mood to change.
He doesn't speak. Instead, he reaches out for me. Unable to deny him, I place my hand in his and he pulls me into his arms. He cups my face and kisses my lips. “Can I see you again?” he asks between our flushed lips. He leans back and looks deeply into my eyes, making it impossible to deny him.
My teeth graze my lower lip as I look up into his tantalizing eyes. "I have to work later. And my mom stays late at the rehab center on Sunday.”
“Monday night, then?”
I stand on my toes and kiss his lips. “We'll see.” I wink and try to walk away. Before I'm about to turn, he drags me back into his arms. His mouth hovers over mine. Unlike before, his kisses are hungry and desperate. As much as I fight to pull away, I can’t.
“Fine," I whisper between kisses. “Monday night.”
I arrive home an hour later. Ethan drops me off and I rush inside, hoping my mother is still asleep. Tiptoeing in the house, I think I’m in the clear when I hear her audible sigh.
“Mom?” I step further into the house. “You’re up early.” I try to sound optimistic. I’m an adult, after all. There’s no need to explain where I’ve been all night, but never having done the walk of shame before, I find it terrifying.
I locate her in my dad’s recliner, her lips pursed with disgust when her gaze lands on me. “It didn't take long for him to find you, did it?” An icy chill runs up my spine. “Or should I say, it didn't take long before you were crawling into his bed.”
I lean into the doorframe and cross my arms. “Good morning to you too, Mother.”
“Don't you have any respect for yourself?” She stands and throws the newspapers on the coffee table. “Given everything that boy has done to you.”
“He didn't do anything to me, Mother. His father did,” I remind her.
“Funny.” Darlene crosses her arms over her chest and matches my stance. “I remember you sitting in that hospital room and him never coming to see you.”
I swallow back and try to stand tall, but she is throwing low blows. Low, hurtful blows.
“I remember you crying night after night and him not even calling you. That's what I remember.”
I taste blood in my mouth as I bite the inside of my cheek. “Funny, I remember you walking away from me when I needed you the most.” Tears pool in my eyes. “I needed my mother, and you were nowhere to be found.” I match her blow for blow. “In that moment I didn’t need him. I needed you, and you were gone.” I take a step forward. “Where were you, Mom? Gone!”
“Because you threw it all away!” she yelled. “For years, Leslie, we worked on one thing together. Your goal was to get into Juilliard, and you did! Your bags were packed and you were leaving. I had done my job as a mother. I raised you to be responsible and to be respected. To be a beautiful and talented dancer. And then you threw it all away when you went to chase that boy.”
“I didn't throw it away. We were leaving together!” I confess. “He was gonna stand by me as I followed my dreams. We were getting the hell out of this town and he was coming with me to New York. But you insisted on that stupid party.”
“So, you’re saying it’s my fault.”
“No! Its fucking Jerry’s fault, and he never paid for what he did to me!” I cry. I raise my hands and take a step back. I can’t rehash the past. Shaking my head, I turn on my heel and head up the stairs. There’s nothing anyone can say to make me feel any less pain than I feel now.
17
PAST
One Year Later
Against my wishes, my parents decided to throw me a graduation party. Friends of my parents along with neighbors and colleagues all joined at our house for the festivities. My mother had spent the last three months planning this extravagant party, and every single client from the studio was invited. Look! Have your daughter train with me and I can get her into Juilliard as well! I assumed this was the invitations’ underlying message.
Running my hands down my thighs for the third time, I tried to calm my nerves. I was in my room trying on the dress my mother laid out for me. It was peach-colored chiffon that tied around my neck. The A-line style wrapped around my chest and ribs before opening in a mesh skirt down to my knees. My mother had instructed me to wear my hair down and to pin a few strands back away from my face, and I was under strict instructions to make sure my makeup was light. There was a rule for everything, but I didn't argue.
Ethan had accepted his offer from NYU, and secretly we planned out the next chapter of our lives. In three weeks, he and I would be on a plane to New York, so for now I would wear whatever dress my mother wanted me to wear. I would smile and be courteous to their friends because I had twenty-one days left.
After I was dressed, I peeked out my bedroom window and noticed there was no sight of Ethan at the party. He had promised he would be there, and I didn't want to come down until I spotted him.
Light tapping on my door startled me, and to my surprise it was joyful Darlene. “Leslie, you don't want to keep your guests waiting.” She walked over to me and moved a strand of hair behind my shoulder.
“Yes, Mother.” I waited till she was out of the room before I pulled my hair back to the way I had it. “Three more weeks,” I muttered under my breath and followed her down the stairs.
The house and backyard had been transformed. There were balloons, streamers, twinkling lights, and sparklers. Small round tables were scattered around the backyard for people to sit and mingle. Classical music played on the Bose surround sound my mother had installed for the occasion. My mother had hired the best caterer in Arizona, and we even had white gloved waiters who walked around serving hors d'oeuvres.
I smiled and greeted my guests, thanking them as they handed me envelopes. Though I carried on conversations with those my mother insisted I speak with, I kept my eyes out for Ethan. There was no sign of him anywhere inside the house. Scanning the room once more, I noticed Charlie near the chocolate fountain, his lips wrapped around a coated strawberry. He gave me a goofy grin and dipped another berry in the chocolate.
Joyce sat on the chair next to him. Her lips were pursed together and her fingers wrapped around a wine glass. From the way her eyes were half-mast, I knew she had popped one of her pills and chased it with some wine. I couldn’t blame her for want
ing to run away from her life, especially when I knew the man she was married to.
I walked through the kitchen and into the living room, and was greeted with a familiar face.
“Hello there, princess,” Stephanie teased, then curtsied at me gracefully.
“Stop that, Steph. You know this was never my idea.”
“Oh, I know.” She looked around and spotted my mother. “But look at Darlene. I haven't seen her smile this much in my entire life. I actually believe she's been possessed by a ghost.”
“Yeah, the Juilliard ghost.” I couldn’t hide the annoyance in my voice.
“Are you not having fun?” Stephanie pulled out a small flask from her clutch. “I can change that, you know.”
“If my mother even smells a hint of alcohol on my breath, she will break every bone in my body. You know that.” I shoved the flask back inside her purse.
“That is very true.” Stephanie smiled. “But this is a beautiful party, babe. Loosen up a bit, okay?”
“Hey, have you seen Ethan?” I asked, ignoring her request. I couldn’t hide the pinch in my chest.
“No.” She shook her head and gave another quick scan of the room. “I figured he’d be with you. I have no idea where he is.”
I sighed and forced a smile. “If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him.”
"Will do, babe."
I continued to look for him, but he wasn't in the backyard or on the deck, nor was he anywhere in the house, and my heart began to ache with worry.
The clinking of champagne flutes startled me. “May I have your attention please?” my father said. The room got quiet and my gaze landed on him. Slowly, he walked toward me. Placing his hand on my shoulder, he raised his glass. “I’d like to thank you all for coming here tonight and celebrating my sweet little girl.” He looked down at me with a loving smile.
“Leslie, I am so proud of the woman you have become. And I know you will continue to dance into the hearts of others as you have danced into ours. May you have all the success in the world as you embark on this next journey in your life. To Leslie.” He raised his glass and the room filled with cheers.
Broken Dreams (Fatal Series Book 3) Page 13