Mia responded to that intimacy by thrusting back as her arms moved up about Ethan’s muscled shoulders and her fingers became entangled in the dark thickness of the hair at his nape. Only the sound of their ragged breathing broke the expectant silence that now surrounded them.
Mia knew she had wanted this, craved this, since first seeing Ethan again yesterday—that a part of her had instantly begun to wonder, to question if this older, more forceful Ethan and the more mature and self-confident Mia would be as physically combustible together as the more youthful Ethan and Mia had been five years ago.
If anything, they were more so!
Their lips parted hungrily, tongues duelling as Mia turned in Ethan’s arms to kneel up on the sofa, her aching breasts now pressed against the hardness of his chest as his arms slid about her waist and his hands moved caressingly underneath her sweater to touch the heated flesh beneath.
Ethan kissed Mia hungrily, deeply, as he revelled in touching the silky softness of her skin before pushing up the barrier of her sweater completely, to bare the slender curve of her spine and the firm thrust of her breasts.
Mia groaned low in protest as Ethan broke that kiss, her groan turning to an aching sigh of pleasure as one of Ethan’s hands moved to cup beneath her breast before he lowered his head and ran his tongue over one bared nipple, tasting her, pleasuring her, gently circling, then taking her fully into his mouth, his other hand pressed firmly against her spine.
Mia’s breath was a painful rasp, and her fingers were clinging to Ethan’s shoulders as the pleasure washed over her in waves. She became aware of the warmth pouring off Ethan, of the heat of arousal hanging heavy in the air between them.
Ethan shifted his attention to her other breast, his hand now moving down the slender slope of her belly and then lower. The soft pad of his palm pressed against her, moving rhythmically, driving Mia’s pleasure to another level.
Mia’s neck arched back. ‘Oh, God …! I want—I need—’
His breath was a warm caress against her breast as he released her to look up at her with glittering eyes. ‘More?’
‘Yes!’
‘Harder?’
‘God, yes …’
Mia didn’t care that this was a teasing repeat of their earlier conversation. She just wanted, needed Ethan to satisfy the torturous desire coursing through her body.
He blew softly against the tip of her damp breast as his hand moved to the fastening of her jeans. Just that light caress was enough to make Mia tremble uncontrollably.
Ethan pushed Mia’s trousers down her thighs to reveal she wore only a tiny pair of black lace panties beneath. He felt the dampness between her legs. In readiness for him …
The blood was pounding through Ethan’s veins with every rapid beat of his heart. His breathing was a harsh rasp in his throat as his hand dipped beneath that black lace to touch her, before the soft pad of his thumb began a slow and rhythmic caress.
He felt Mia moving into his caress as his mouth once again found her hardened nipple, felt Mia’s pleasure as she moved ever closer to climax.
Ethan drew his breath in sharply as Mia’s hands moved beneath his polo shirt to touch his chest and the flatness of his stomach, those delicately light fingers lingering at the fastening of his jeans before moving lower, her palm pressing against the rigid length of his erection.
Had Ethan ever been this aroused before?
So hard and wanting he could feel himself on the edge of release just at the hard press of those fingers against him?
Ethan didn’t think so—knew he hadn’t as Mia moved her hand against him.
She shifted, legs parting, before letting out a low and keening cry as her body convulsed and contracted against Ethan as she rode the surging orgasm to mindless completion.
It seemed an eternity later when Mia allowed her head to drop down weakly to rest on Ethan’s shoulder as her release reached a slow and shuddering halt.
Which was when the full force of what she had just encouraged to happen washed over her …
Her breasts felt hot and heavy from the attentions of Ethan’s mouth and hands. The force of her explosive release was still in the air.
Mia’s release.
Not Ethan’s.
Her hand still resting against him told her of his ready arousal …
Mia had been a virgin the first time she and Ethan had made love together five years ago—inexperienced, physically shy. But even in her innocence she had never been a selfish lover. She had certainly never taken her own pleasure and left Ethan achingly unsatisfied!
‘Mia?’
She couldn’t look at Ethan now—was absolutely mortified by her behaviour. She had more or less demanded that Ethan make love to her—oh, he’d had the option of refusing, but what man would?—and had then taken her pleasure without thought of—‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry?’ he repeated forcefully. ‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘I was upset—not thinking straight. But that was still no reason for me to …’ Mia gave a shake of her head. ‘It was still no reason for me to—’
‘For you to do what, Mia?’ Ethan prompted impatiently. ‘Exactly what happened just now?’
She wished she knew! Oh, she had been upset—and definitely not thinking straight—but was that really an acceptable explanation for using Ethan in that way? The logical part of Mia’s brain had told her that it was madness for her even to be attracted to Ethan, let alone ever allow herself to feel anything for him again. The illogical part wondered, after her uncontrollable response just now, if those feelings for Ethan had ever stopped …
Something she definitely didn’t want to think about right now!
Instead she moved up on the sofa, holding Ethan’s gaze with her own as her hands moved to the fastening of his jeans once more.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Ethan’s hands moved to capture and hold hers.
Colour warmed her cheeks as she looked up at him. ‘You didn’t—Haven’t—’ She gave a shrug. ‘I was just going to—’
‘I can guess what you were just going to do, Mia!’ he ground out harshly, stepping away from her. ‘Thanks—but, no thanks,’ he snapped coldly.
‘What do you mean …?’
‘I mean that particular moment has passed,’ he rasped harshly. ‘And I’m not about to use you for sex as you obviously used me!’
Mia moved sharply away, her hands dropping back to her sides as she pulled her sweater down over her exposed breasts and fastened her denims before kneeling back on her heels to look up at him. Ethan’s face was all hard and unapproachable angles in the lamplight, his expression harshly uncompromising.
Her wince was pained. ‘That was unbelievably crude, Ethan.’
‘I prefer to think of it as being realistic.’ His eyes glittered that opaque, unreadable silver as he looked down at her through narrowed lids, his jaw tense, a nerve pulsing at the base of his throat.
Her cheeks had gone very pale. ‘I’ve offered—’
‘I’m well aware of what you’ve offered, Mia,’ he snapped. ‘And, as I said, I’ve lost the inclination.’ He continued remorselessly, ‘But, if it makes you feel better, you can owe me, okay?’ he added insultingly.
She blinked. ‘Owe you …?’
Ethan nodded abruptly. ‘The next time I’m in the mood for some uncomplicated sex I know who to come to.’
If Ethan was meaning to humiliate her then he had succeeded. Mia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.
‘I made a mistake—there’s no need to be so deliberately hurtful …’
As far as Ethan was concerned there was every need!
He should have known when Mia cautioned him earlier—‘Don’t talk, Ethan …’—that making love with Mia tonight was all wrong. That as far as she was concerned it hadn’t been Ethan Black making love to her at all. He was just some faceless, nameless man with whom she could use sex to force the horrific images of those photographs from her mind.
<
br /> Ethan backed off. ‘I think it’s time I left.’ Past time, if he were truthful.
‘Yes.’
Quite where the two of them went after tonight Ethan had no idea. Although he suspected that on a personal basis he and Mia were going precisely nowhere. Which in no way nullified the reason he had come here tonight.
‘You still haven’t told me what you intend doing about your father.’
Mia stood up to turn away from his piercing gaze as she straightened her clothing, totally aware as she did so that this was far from her finest hour. Ethan was right. She had used him just now—and in the worst possible way. And to make matters worse she had compounded that initial mistake with their that ridiculous attempt to return the favour!
‘Or maybe you just intend letting William continue to believe you might be dead in another ditch somewhere?’ Ethan accused.
Mia’s eyes flashed her anger. ‘I have absolutely no idea yet what I’m going to do about that situation, okay?’ And she truly didn’t …
The thought of her father looking at the remains of that poor woman in those awful photographs and fearing it might be her was truly awful. But, awful as it was, Mia knew that none of that changed the things that still stood between the two of them. Namely her mother’s suicide five years ago, and the revelation of her father’s relationship with Grace Black …
Her frown deepened. ‘I need time to think about this some more before deciding.’
‘And in the meantime you intend to let your father continue to suffer?’
Her chin rose at Ethan’s deepening contempt for her. ‘I’m not stopping you from telling him you’ve seen me—’
‘I believe I stated yesterday where I stand in regard to having anyone telling me what I can or cannot do!’ Ethan dismissed harshly.
Yesterday.
Was it really only just over twenty-four hours since she had first seen Ethan again? It seemed so much longer. Mia felt years older, not hours!
She gave a shaky sigh. ‘As I said, you are perfectly at liberty to tell my father—’
‘Oh, no, Mia. You don’t wriggle out of this that easily,’ Ethan cut in scathingly. ‘I’m not your errand boy. If you want William to know you’re still alive, then you can damn well tell him so yourself.’
She glared her frustration. ‘Maybe I’ll decide to do just that!’
‘When?’
‘When I’m good and ready!’
‘If you ever are.’
She drew in a sharp breath. ‘Stop pushing me, Ethan! I’ve already told you I haven’t decided what I’m going to do about my father. When I do you’ll be the first to know, okay?’
‘No, it’s not okay,’ Ethan rasped. ‘I was right about you yesterday—you really have turned into a cold and selfish little witch, haven’t you?’ he added disgustedly as he strode over to the door.
Mia’s hand shook as she carefully picked up her glass of wine from the coffee table where she had placed it earlier, taking several soothing sips as she willed herself to hold it together until Ethan had gone. She couldn’t break down in front of Ethan. She couldn’t let him see—
‘Oh, and Mia …?’ Ethan turned to stand in the open doorway.
She looked across at him warily. ‘Yes …?’
‘Just so that you know …’ He stepped out into the hallway. ‘It may take months—years—but I always collect on my debts!’
Mia didn’t even hesitate as she lifted her arm and threw the glass across the room at him.
Ethan stepped neatly in the hallway and pushed the door closed behind him. ‘Missed …’ he murmured, loud enough for her to hear, before he went down the stairs. The outside door closed behind him seconds later.
Mia looked over to where the wine glass had shattered against the closed door, numb as she looked at the broken glass all over the floor and the rivulets of wine dripping down the wood.
She burst into loud and inconsolable tears. Tears that owed absolutely nothing to the mess she was going to have to clear up once she stopped crying, and everything to do with the dark-haired, silver-eyed man who was wreaking total havoc in her life for the second time.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘THANKS, Trish,’ Ethan drawled softly as his secretary showed Mia into his office at eleven o’clock the following Monday morning, waiting until the other woman had left the room before turning to look at Mia as she crossed the room to stand in front of his desk.
The high heels on her black shoes were complimentary to the visible length of her shapely legs, but the black business suit and pale green blouse Mia was wearing today made her look as if she were paying a visit to her bank manager rather than the man who had once been her lover.
Who was still her lover …?
Ethan had been absolutely furious when he’d left Mia’s apartment on Friday evening. Not just with Mia, but with himself too—for allowing things to get as out of control between them as they obviously had, and so further complicating a situation that was complex enough already.
It hadn’t helped that Ethan had then spent the whole weekend remembering making love to Mia—his constant state of arousal at those memories even making him regret that he had stopped her when she had attempted to return the favour.
Mia had been a generous and responsive lover five years ago, but the woman Ethan had held in his arms, made love to on Friday evening, had been exactly that: a woman. Bolder. More self-confident. More experienced?
Every time Ethan thought that might be the case he felt his rage deepening. Which was ridiculous. Mia was twenty-five now, and it would be extremely naive on Ethan’s part to think she wouldn’t have taken other lovers during the past five years. Even if the thought of some other man touching her in the intimate way he had did make him green with envy!
To arrive at his office at nine o’clock this morning and learn that Mia had already telephoned and made an appointment to see him at eleven o’clock today hadn’t improved his mood in the slightest, and he was left wondering exactly what it was she wanted to talk to him about.
‘I’m waiting, Mia,’ he reminded her tersely now, as she made no attempt to start the conversation.
Mia was well aware Ethan was waiting for her to say something. Just as she could tell by his coolly remote expression that he wasn’t about to make this in the least easy for her.
It had been a very long weekend—hours and hours when Mia had determinedly put Friday evening, and Ethan, from her mind, and instead worked in the coffee shop on Saturday and then spent Sunday baking from morning until night as she went over and over again in her mind what her options were concerning her father.
Ethan’s refusal to tell William he had spoken to her, and that she was alive and well and living in London, appeared to leave Mia with only two choices: refuse to see her father again, or agree to visit him.
To refuse would not only leave Mia feeling guilt-ridden, but also uneasy that one day Ethan might change his mind and tell her father where she was anyway.
Seeing her father again would, Mia felt sure, result in yet more heartache for both of them. She wasn’t ready to forgive William for the past—wasn’t sure she ever would be—in which case, apart from reassuring her father that she was indeed still alive and not in a ditch somewhere, as Ethan had suggested William might think she was, Mia couldn’t see what good it would do either of them to meet again.
And yet every time she so much as thought of that poor woman who had been found dead six months ago, of her father looking at those photographs and believing for even a short time that it might be her, all Mia’s previous logic went completely out of the window. Ethan had several times accused her of being cold and selfish, but Mia knew she was neither of those things—that beneath the anger she still felt towards her father she also still loved him …
How she now felt towards Ethan was less clear to her!
Much as Mia had tried not to think about him over the weekend, she knew she hadn’t completely succeeded. As she’d lain in her bed thi
s past three nights, attempting to fall asleep, the memories of their lovemaking had come back to haunt her. Just the memory of Ethan’s hands and lips on her body was enough to arouse her all over again!
‘You may have all day to waste, Mia, but I have another appointment at eleven-thirty,’ Ethan stated, and gave a pointed glance at the thin gold watch on his left wrist.
Mia straightened. ‘I’ve decided—after careful consideration I’ve decided to see my father.’ The words came out in an awkward rush.
‘Really?’ he murmured softly.
‘Yes—really,’ she confirmed irritably. Damn it, Ethan might show a little more enthusiasm when this was what he had been pushing for her to do.
Instead he relaxed back in his chair, dark brows raised over sceptical grey eyes. ‘And you’ve come here to tell me that because …?’
‘Because I expect you to arrange the meeting, of course,’ Mia said irritably. ‘And don’t say “Really?” again, in that sarcastic tone,’ she continued impatiently as Ethan continued to look at her from between narrowed lids. ‘We both know that my just turning up on the doorstep of my father’s villa in the South of France is likely to do more harm than good.’
Yes, Ethan conceded ruefully, that was something they could both agree on.
And maybe Mia agreeing to see William after all proved that she wasn’t as changed, as cold and selfish as Ethan had believed that she was. Maybe. But it was still only a maybe.
He had briefly thought he had reached the old Mia—the warm and affectionate Mia—on Friday evening. Her physical response to him was as strong as it had ever been. As his had been to her. Until her own behaviour had made it so obvious that she had only wanted some distraction …
Ethan’s mouth tightened and he straightened behind his desk.
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