by Stella James
“Ethan, don’t stop,” she gasps.
I trail my mouth down her writhing body and pull the red fabric from her mound, rolling it down her legs. She’s spread out before me in, completely bare and absolutely breathtaking. She’s a gift that I don’t deserve. My need to taste her overwhelms me and the first swipe of my tongue on her pussy elicits a guttural groan from a part of me that has laid dormant for far too long. I part her folds and take long, slow strokes with my tongue, her fingers in my hair, begging me not to stop.
“Ethan, please, Ethan,” she moans, causing my already throbbing cock to twitch beneath my zipper.
I pull her swollen clit into my mouth and suck on the pink pearl until she arches off the bed, lost completely in the pleasure I’m giving her. I place my forearm firmly across her taut stomach to hold her right where I want her. I’m not even close to being done. I thrust one finger inside her tight channel and instantly feel the pressure of her walls tightening around me. I add another and plunge them in and out while my mouth brings her closer and closer to where I want her.
I want her to fall apart. I want my name on her lips when she comes and I want to taste every drop of her on my tongue. I curl my fingers inside of her, the incoherent moans falling from her lips urging me to continue. I don’t stop when her greedy pussy grips my fingers tightly; instead I replace them with my mouth. The first drop of her climax hits my tongue and I’ve never tasted anything so fucking sweet. I rub her clit with my coated fingers, her thighs tremble on either side of me as I lick up every ounce of her release. When her tremors subside, I place my mouth on each one of her smooth inner thighs and trail my lips back up to her neck. I pull her sated body to mine and when she curls up beside me and sighs with content I feel the ramifications of what I’ve just done like a punch to the gut. A moment later when her breathing is even and steady, I allow myself to hold her in my arms, briefly letting go of everything but the way she feels against me.
I regretfully pull away and gently remove her hand from my chest. I stare down at her in the streaming light, her dark hair fanned across the red pillowcase and her smooth skin beautifully flushed against the sheets. I feel an ache in my chest when I cover her up with the thin blanket at the foot of the bed and head for the door. I remind myself what I am. I don’t deserve beautiful things, let alone this woman. I don’t deserve a second chance and even if I took it anyways, she would be disgusted with me when she finds out who I really am. It’s better for both of us if I walk away now. I don’t look back as I reach for the door and lock it behind me. The bitter reminder of my own mistakes weighs heavily on my mind as I walk away, effectively sabotaging the possibility that she could have been mine.
Chapter 7
Dru
I open my eyes to find my apartment bathed in darkness. I sit up and pull the cool blankets to my chest and call out his name, but I already know that he’s gone. The heat that filled the room hours ago has been replaced with the chill of solitude. I fall back on the pillows and I’m immediately assaulted with the memory of his demanding mouth between my thighs, giving me the kind of pleasure that I thought only existed in romance novels. My body burned beneath him and with every swipe of his tongue, he left me with only one coherent thought…more.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize that Ethan Talbot is a man with secrets; is that why he left? Did I misread everything so poorly? I swear I saw the hunger in his eyes and it was just as potent as my own. I didn’t just imagine the entire day or every touch and every smile. I couldn’t have. I deserve an explanation and that’s exactly what I’m going to get.
I flick on the lamp beside my bed and check the time, it’s just after ten p.m. Lucy hops up on the bed, no doubt wondering where her supper is. Pushing my thoughts of Ethan and his disappearing act from my mind, I roll out of bed and pull on a hoodie and some leggings. I’m just dishing up some food for Lucy when there’s a knock at my door. My belly flutters when I open it and effectively drops in disappointment when I see Anna standing on the other side with an overnight bag and a look of desperation on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to sleep. I’m so tired,” she whimpers as she shuffles through the doorway and drops her bag to the floor. She leans into me and I wrap my arms around her. “You smell like sex,” she accuses, her voice muffled against my chest.
“Ugh, don’t even ask,” I warn with a sigh. I pull her into the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea. “Anna, you have got to do something about this neighbour of yours, this isn’t healthy.”
“I know. I tried to catch him tonight before his usual crowd started showing up. I knocked on his door and when he answered I told him if he didn’t keep it down tonight I was going to call the cops. He smirked at me and told me to pull the stick out of my ass. And then he shut the door in my face. Again.”
“So, call the cops on this asshole. Let them deal with it,” I say, even though I know she won’t.
Anna is constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place. Even when we were younger, she would never tell on the snotty girls at school who would constantly pick on her. She’d stick up for herself to some degree but mostly she would just try and ignore them. Elle and I always had her back, but she didn’t want to get anyone in serious trouble. Girls were always jealous of Anna, she’s beautiful and genuine and could have easily had any guy that she wanted. It was a power that she never used though, and unlike my reputation of being labeled a snob she got stuck with the reputation of being strange.
“No, I don’t want to get him in trouble with the cops. I just want him to be quiet. I think he felt kind of bad tonight though, so that’s progress, right?”
“What about the other neighbours? Aren’t they sick of his shit?”
“Mrs. Mercer moved out of 2B so it’s just us on the top floor now and the apartment right below him is vacant. Ugh, I just need one solid night and I’ll be fine. I’m just frazzled and grumpy.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come over and talk to him?”
“No,” she insists. “I can handle this primate on my own. I just need to try a different tactic, that’s all.”
“Well, you can stay here for as long as you need to, you know that.”
“I know. But I Just need one night, I’ll re-evaluate my plan of attack tomorrow.”
I fix us a snack and we settle on the sofa with some mindless entertainment on MTV. Anna lasts about five minutes before she’s passed out. I gently remove her glasses and cover her up with a blanket before I head to my own bed. I toss and turn, thinking of my own plan of attack when it comes to Ethan. I have a shift tomorrow night at the club and as much as I find myself marvelling at how unraveled I became under his touch, I’ve never been a doormat and I’m not about to start now. Ethan has some explaining to do.
*
I arrive at the club early with the intent of speaking to Gus about cutting back my shifts. When I woke up this morning, Anna and I had breakfast together before she left for work. I told her about my upcoming show and she insisted that we have a proper celebration this upcoming weekend. My romantic life might be uncertain at the moment, but I won’t let it damper my spirits when it comes to something I’ve been working hard for. I spot Gus at his usual seat at the bar, going over a stack of paperwork. I sit down beside him and ask Hunter for an iced tea. The doors haven’t opened yet and it’s still early, there’s only a few employees here so far setting up for tonight. No sign of Ethan yet, but he typically doesn’t get here until later when things really start to pick up.
“Someone in particular you’re looking for, Dru?” Gus asks, not bothering to look up from his bundle of receipts.
“No, actually you’re just the man I’m looking for,” I say with a grin.
“Ah, well, music to my ears. You have my attention.” He turns on his stool to face me and removes his reading glasses.
I tell him about my exhibit at the gallery and that I’ll need to cut back to one night per week in order t
o prepare some extra pieces.
“Vanessa will have a new girl trained for you in no time,” I say. “And I promise to fill in if you need me.”
He waves his hand dismissing my concern, which of course I knew he would. “I don’t want you worrying about any of that,” he says. “We’ll be fine. You talk to Vanessa about the schedule and I’ll take care of the rest.” He pats my hand in a familiar gesture of fatherly affection.
If I could have chosen anyone to fill that role, it would have been Gus. From the minute I stepped foot in his club at the age of eighteen and started as a waitress, he’s managed to give me the same thing Esme gave me when she took me to that art supply store all those years ago. Faith. Faith that people can be kind and generous despite not being tied together by blood.
“Have I ever told you that you’re my favourite boss?” I give him a quick peck on the cheek and promise to bring his favourite dessert to rehearsal on Sunday. He blushes and ducks his head before shooing me away and telling me to get to work.
I head back to the dressing room and take my time doing my hair and applying my make-up. Brenna is opening tonight and I’m going on right after. Each night there is typically three solos and then a group number at the end and Vanessa has us on a rotation to make sure everyone has the same opportunity to cash in on tips. I change into tonight’s costume, a red and pink bustier with matching bottoms and sheer white thigh-highs. It’s feminine and flirty and goes perfectly with my routine. I check the time and see that it’s just after eight. I don’t go on until nine and I decide that now is the perfect time to catch Ethan before things on the main floor get too rowdy. I slip on my red suede pumps and make my way back down the narrow hallway that leads back to the bar. I don’t get very far before I feel his eyes on me. When I turn around to face him, my resolve nearly slips and I almost forget myself entirely. Almost. He watches me as I stride toward him, setting down a box of liquor on the floor at his feet so that it sits between us. I cross my arms in front of my chest and give him a chance to offer me an explanation.
“Say something Ethan,” I demand. “Give me a reason why you snuck out on me last night or put me out of my misery and tell me that you aren’t interested in whatever this is. Give me something, because I deserve an explanation.”
“I shouldn’t have let anything happen between us,” he says quietly. I catch the flicker of regret as it passes over his expression and although it’s brief, it’s enough to make me realize that I’m the one who has made a mistake. He exhales roughly and is about to let me down gently, but I can’t stand the thought of him placating me.
“Please don’t. Look, I’m sorry, I thought I saw something in you. Something different. I was wrong and that’s on me. Stay away from me Ethan, and I’ll do the same.”
I turn my back and manage to keep my chin up until I’m around the corner and I can breathe again. I let a couple of tears fall and push down the rest. I walk into the club and make a couple rounds, saying hello to some regulars before it’s my turn on stage.
The show must go on.
Chapter 8
Ethan
Letting Dru walk away from me was hard enough, the fact that she did so with her shoulders pulled back with pride and in those sexy as fuck shoes had me fighting every part within me that wants not only her body but her mind as well. I’m not so jaded that I don’t realize a woman like Dru doesn’t come along every day, I’d be a lucky bastard to have her as mine, but it wouldn’t be fair to her. I haul the heavy box of whiskey to the bar and slam it down on the floor. Hunter scowls at me but I don’t give a shit. As soon as I’m done tonight I have one goal in mind; drink until I can’t remember how it feels to have Dru’s body beneath mine, pliable and wanting. Fuck.
The applause dies down and I know that she’ll be going on soon, I can’t stand the thought of watching her perform for these half-drunk assholes. There’s more men than women here tonight when usually the crowd is fairly even. I can already spot a few tables with typical entitled types that think the women here are some kind of personal buffet just for them. The fact that I can’t claim Dru as my own is irrelevant, my possessiveness over her has a mind of its own and right now I want her gorgeous ass fully clothed and far away from this imminent shit show. The curtains open and there she is, center stage with a free-standing ballet barre. Beautiful, sexy, and tempting. Watching her is my own personal hell yet as I stand in the shadows I force myself to endure the torture of knowing that I won’t ever touch her again. That my name won’t cross her full lips when she’s falling apart with pleasure. I had a taste of paradise and my selfish need for more will remain unsatisfied.
She uses the barre as a prop in the same way she used the chair the first time I saw her on stage. She bends and sways, her hips in perfect time with the bass of the song. Whistles and drunken cat calls drown out the bluesy song playing over the speakers just as the music begins to fade. Before she exits the stage, she looks out at the audience and her eyes land on mine. She holds my gaze for just a second before she turns and retreats, taking my breath with her.
I make a couple rounds on the floor and cut off a bachelor party, they’re a small group but I can tell that each one of them is walking the fine line between being pleasantly shitfaced and becoming a problem. Luckily, our rowdiest group of the night has already left without incident. I pretend that my eyes don’t wander toward the back hallway that leads to the dressing room and I try to forget that Dru usually sneaks out the back door and has James hail her a cab. I could have convinced myself further to move the fuck on if I didn’t see him approach the bar when I know for a fact he’s supposed to be keeping an eye on things backstage. I stride over just as he’s asking Hunter for a cup of coffee.
“Who’s watching the back door?” I bark.
“Brian’s got it covered, I’m taking my break,” he explains.
I look over and spot Brian leaning across one of the small tables on the other side of the room, he’s flirting with a table full of women and seems to be completely oblivious to the fact that he has an actual job to do.
“Never mind him,” I say. “I’ll head out back, just radio me if you need me back out front.”
I make my way to the back door and take a seat on the worn-out stool. I can hear some commotion coming from the alleyway and I feel a familiar sense of dread in my stomach. It’s the same feeling I used to get when I was on the force; the feeling that something isn’t quite right. One of the dancers, Margo I think, comes out of the dressing room and is heading out front when I call her back.
“Is Dru still in there?” I ask.
She looks intrigued as to why I give a damn but she’s polite enough not to give me the third degree.
“No,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “She left about ten minutes ago, headed out the back like always.”
Mother fucker.
I step back toward the door and shove it open so hard that it nearly breaks off its hinges. I’m just in time to see one of the rowdy fuckers from earlier tonight back Dru up against the brick wall of the building across the alleyway. He’s got his hand gripped tightly on her waist and when she spots me over his shoulder there’s no mistaking the look of panic in her brown eyes. Red instantly clouds my vision as I stalk toward them and grab him by his jacket, throwing him to the ground hard enough that he yelps in pain.
“What the fuck man, the lady and I are talkin’,” he slurs.
I bend down and grab him by the collar. The rage I feel toward this piece of shit for even thinking that he had a right to touch Dru makes my bones vibrate.
“You useless mother fucking piece of shit, you have five seconds to get the fuck out of here and if I ever see you around here again, I’ll fucking rip you apart.”
He scrambles to his feet and stumbles to the sidewalk, blending in with the throng of people that were too busy to notice a woman nearly get attacked just thirty feet away. I keep my back to her and try to tamp down my anger.
“Ethan?”
Her voice is like silk, caressing my clenched fists and the dangerous realization that something could have happened to her had I been one second later. My old man used to say that not every cop was born with a sharp sense and that I was lucky to have mine. Lucky doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel when her hand presses gently into my back.
“Ethan, please look at me,” she pleads.
My body complies as I mentally fight off the remnants of my rage. One look at her and I feel my muscles begin to relax. For the second time, I remind myself that I have no business touching her as my hand reaches up and rests along the side of her face. She leans into my touch and closes her eyes.
“Did he hurt you?” My voice is rough as I swallow past the lump in my throat. Her eyes flutter open and she looks up at me and smiles tightly.
“No, he didn’t hurt me. He just had too much to drink and apparently thought he was owed something more than just a performance,” she laughs bitterly. “He wasn’t too keen on my answer, not that he bothered to ask for it in the first place.”