The image aroused her even more, and perhaps him as well, for all at once, two probing fingers slipped deep into her wet sheath.
He groaned from deep in his chest as she gasped and pulsed around him. “You are so ready,” he muttered into her ear. “Come with me now, sweetheart. Come … with me.” He slid his fingers in and out and around, massaging her own tiny, swollen erection, brushing over the plump, sensitive skin around it.
Diana felt herself gathering up, the heat rushing and surging through her as his rhythm never faltered. Her toes curled into the wood floor, her fingers closed around his arm as she bit her lip, trying to keep from crying out as she drew closer and closer … and then all at once, she went over the top, her world exploding like a bright flash of lightning.
She gave a cry of release, of triumph, as the pleasure undulated through her limbs. Her knees gave out and she clung to his arms as he chuckled softly, deeply into her damp neck.
“That’s what I meant,” he said, pleasure and delight evident in his voice. “ Ah, Diana ….” He turned her suddenly and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up close as he bent to kiss her. His hand came to brush the hair from her cheek, and she could smell her own muskiness on his fingers.
Diana raised her face to meet him, to take his lips, and she felt his trembling from pent-up desire. His mouth was as sensual and his kiss as beautiful as she’d remembered, but grew hot and sleek as their bare skin connected. At last her hand could slide up his arms, over his broad, warm shoulders, her fingers tracing the curve of his collarbone, pressing her hips into his.
“Diana?” It was a question, breathless, low, a little desperate.
“Yes ….” she sighed. Suddenly, she was in his arms as he turned to take her off the porch.
Ethan, intent and nearly blind with desire, stumbled over Cady, who’d collapsed on the floor behind him. But he was able to right himself before disaster, Diana giving a little huff of a laugh as she jolted in his arms. His veins thrummed with heat and he had one thing, only one thing, on his mind. With long strides, he carried his burden across the living room and up the stairs into his cool, dark bedroom.
He let her feet slide to the floor in front of the bed, and, pinning her there with his thighs, kissed her long and thoroughly as he yanked his shorts down with one hand. Then, he pulled away just long enough to whisk that soft, silky gown up and over her head.
“Ah.” Ethan drew in his breath sharply at the sight of her nude body, pale in the dim light, warm under his palms. He thought again how beautiful she was, how perfect her breasts were with their small, tight nipples, how smooth and flowing the lines of her torso were. He filled his hands with her, touching, caressing, fondling as he bent to kiss her again. Ready. So ready … but thorough. He’d be thorough.
He tumbled them onto the bed, onto the wad of blankets and mussed sheets he’d left earlier, and settled against her. Hot damp skin to hot damp skin, curves pressed up against firm muscle and coarse hair. They fit together well, and she welcomed him as he eased her legs apart.
Lifting himself away just enough to reach into the drawer of his bedside table, he pulled a condom free from its depths. With one movement, he ripped the package open, then bent to take one of those perked-up nipples into his mouth. Diana gave a sexy little tremor as he closed his lips around her, sucking and teasing her with his tongue, getting her all worked up again so that she’d be sleek and ready for him.
She was mumbling things he couldn’t understand, but they sounded good: breathy and desperate, and he made short work of slipping the condom in place. And then, shifting up to kiss her full and long and hard on her parted lips, he fit himself into place and at last … ah, yes.
She made a soft, erotic little sound that stoked him, grasping at his shoulders and lifting herself up to meet his thrust. And he began to move with long, slow strokes, trying to keep them easy and deep, she whimpered and shifted on the bed. In the back of his mind, he heard the boom of thunder, and was faintly aware of the flashes of lightening mingling with the soft sounds of pleasure she made beneath him. Her sudden cry, low and husky, nearly undid him, and but he kept his mind for a moment longer … just long enough to make it last. To listen to her rough, addled breathing and feel her orgasm shuddering around him.
And then he stopped thinking. He slipped into his own pleasure and let go. And when it came, the release rolled through his body in a sharp, hot wave.
He smiled with long-awaited contentment as he eased down next to her, the thunderstorm still raging beyond the windows as they edged into slumber.
~*~
Ethan opened his eyes to a damp, gray morning and an empty bed. There was still a warm spot from where Diana had been, and he could hear her running water in the bathroom.
Which was just as well, because it gave him time to pull his head back together. He felt good. More than good. Better than he had felt in a long time.
Except for the fact that he’d had amazing, toe-curling, explosive sex with a woman who’d done to her fiancé exactly what Meghan had done to Ethan.
The selfish part of him didn’t give a shit—obviously, Jonathan Wertinger was a douchebag who’d already cheated on Diana and deserved whatever he got. Not to mention the fact that they didn’t belong together—it was obvious to anyone with a brain that Wertinger wasn’t the right man for her.
But.
It was the “but” that had Ethan’s insides feeling hollow and scraped empty when he should have been figuring out how to coax her back between the sheets. Either Diana had used the opportunity last night for a sort of revenge against Jonathan, or she’d easily succumbed to her own form of betrayal.
Either way, that made her just the sort of woman he loathed: manipulative, opportunistic, and unfaithful.
The fact that Ethan had played the role of seducer in her infidelity didn’t make him feel any better. It certainly did take two to tango, and he was just as culpable. Nor could he blame it on the fact that he’d had a long, empty dry spell when it came to women and sex.
Nope. He’d wanted Diana. Not just anyone. Diana. Only Diana.
The bathroom door opened, and there she was, wrapped in one of his robes, her thick, short mop of curls just as tousled as he’d imagined they’d be after a night of hot sex. Her face was damp, as if she’d just washed it.
“Good morning,” she said. Hesitation hinged in her voice, making Ethan even more disconcerted.
So now she regretted it? Damn straight she should.
“Hey,” was all he said. He knew his smile wasn’t as warm or natural as it should have been, but he couldn’t help the cold, sinking feeling sliding down his spine. He’d never been very good at deception.
“Hey … uh ….” Her gaze skittered around the room, and her attention landed on the wad of blue silk that lay crumpled on the floor. “Oh,” she said, and went to pick it up.
He hadn’t noticed the color last night, and although it wasn’t red—or lacy—it had certainly done the job. For a minute, his mind wandered back to the feel of that silk sliding over her curves, warm and clinging, and he felt a rise of desire again. No doubt about it, she pushed all his buttons, the very right way.
“We should probably talk about—uh—this,” she said, clutching the blue silk to her chest. Her eyes, nearly the same shade of midnight as the lingerie, focused on him.
“Talk?” he said, forcing a casual little laugh. “What’s there to talk about?” He patted the bed next to him and mustered up a warm grin and seductive look. “Aren’t you cold standing there?”
“No,” she said. “I’m fine. I—uh—Ethan,” she said, her words coming out rapidly, as if she needed to push them through, “I don’t know what happened to me last night. I mean, I don’t normally do things like … that. I—I really—it was wonderful, really amazing, but I’m just coming out of a relationship and I don’t think I’m ready for anything … new. So, um, could we just pretend … I mean, I’m good with just leaving it as one wonderful night, and
—that’s it. No, uh, expectations. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said automatically. His mind was spinning as he tried to make sense of her rushed, tumbling words along with his own feelings about the situation. Wonderful, amazing—he caught that. That was good. I don’t do things like that. Okay, he’d buy that, based on her obvious discomfort.
“Okay, good,” she said in a rush, hurrying out of the room. She closed the door behind her.
Wait.
Just coming out of a relationship?
Ethan bolted upright and stared at the door. What the hell did that mean?
~*~
Diana rushed down the stairs, her face hot and her insides churning, but her dignity intact. That went well.
She felt like a complete idiot, yet she couldn’t banish the memory of Ethan sprawled all over his bed, oh so naked and gorgeous. Dark and muscular, with a few tan lines and just the right amount of hair, he was magnificent with the muted light spilling over his long, lean body. She’d never been this close to such a perfect specimen of masculinity, let alone been intimate.
And yet she managed to say just what she’d practiced in the bathroom, in a relatively coherent manner, she thought. No expectations.
Even though those words made her insides twist and churn all the more, she figured it was the best way to approach the situation. She was going back to Boston, he was heading to Princeton, and aside from that, Diana was under no illusion that she was anything more than a summer fling for a guy like Ethan Tannock.
Just as in When Harry Met Sally…, it was better that she’d had the opportunity to say first that it was just a one night thing. And, based on the expression on his face when she came out of the bathroom, it had been the right thing to say. Despite the beauty of his tanned self among the rumpled sheets, the expression on his face had clearly been one of regret and discomfort.
Not that she hadn’t had similar feelings. Yesterday I was engaged to Jonathan. And today, here I am, rolling out of another man’s bed. Now who’s the Wonder Slut?
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she realized Cady was right behind her. The lab went to the door and whined. Clutching Ethan’s robe more tightly around her, Diana let the dog out and then turned to go to her room and get dressed. She had to file a report with Joe Cap—another unpleasantness to deal with, although this one should be easier than telling a delicious hunk of a man that she was letting him off the hook for last night.
Maybe she should have gone for one more night before she walked—if for no other reason than to wipe away any lingering memory of Jonathan. Not that that had been hard to do, at least with Ethan.
Geesh. Even now, her knees weakened when she thought about what he’d done … how he’d touched her and teased her, brought her up and over the edge so easily. He was … amazing.
As she headed toward the guest room, she glanced into Ethan’s office. The windows had been left wide open all night, and papers were blown all over the floor. Probably rain had come in too, for it had been a fierce storm.
She walked over to see if anything had gotten too wet, picking up the papers as she went, and as she set them on the desk, noticed they were typed notes, with dates on them. Unconsciously scanning them, she paused when she saw Belinda’s name appear on the top of one page, and then her heart stopped. And she stared.
July 10: Diana Iverson.
The sight of her own name sent a queer shiver over her shoulders, and, although she knew she shouldn’t, she did—she began to read, her attention darting around the page, catching phrases that caused her hands to go cold.
“The subject appears to be at least wary of Tarot cards, although she denies any belief in their ability to assist in precognitive—or other—abilities… .The subject, adamant about disbelieving in such tools, looks askance upon the cards and denies having interacted with them… .The subject insisted that the cards had dropped onto the floor, and became clearly uneasy when pressed for further information… . It remains to be determined whether the migraines are a result of the suppressed workings of the unconscious. The subject will bear more observation, and tactful interview, as the subject is unaware of this research.”
Diana allowed the sheaf of papers to slide onto the desk, aware that her eyes had begun to burn.
The subject.
Emptiness seeped into her bones, numbing her mind, as she turned toward the door. How foolish she’d been to think that perhaps he’d been interested in her for herself. How preposterous to consider that she—awkward, shy Diana Iverson—could attract a man like Ethan Tannock.
In the sanctuary of her room, she dressed slowly, aware of the thumping footsteps when Ethan came down the stairs moments later, and the excited clatter of claws when he let Cady in from outside.
“Di?” There was a knock on her door that had her freezing. “Do you want something to eat?” His voice sounded low and mellow, and sent little remembering shivers up her spine.
Or at least, it would have if she weren’t so angry with herself for being so damned stupid. No, wait, she was angry with him for using her.
But … had he really used her? Or had it been a mutual using?
Either way, she was not going to tell him what she’d seen in the office. She wasn’t going to let him know how being labeled a “subject” had effectively deflated any feelings she might have begun to have for him. Better to let him think she’d always intended this to be a summer fling. Not that she’d intended anything with him anyway ….
She sank on the bed, rubbing her temples vigorously. I need to get out of here. Go back to Boston, go back to my work, to my real life.
“Diana?” he said, knocking again. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be out in a sec,” she said, straightening up, putting on her game face.
She could do this. How the hell many times had she been torn apart by a judge’s snide, Good-Ol’-Boys’ comment? Or been slyly insulted by the opposing legal team? “I’m not all that hungry,” she added. “Just coffee for me.”
“That’s too bad, because, you know, breakfast is my best meal,” he teased through the door.
Yeah, I’m sure it is. After all those one-night-stands a guy like you has.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” she called.
By the time she finished dressing and brushing her teeth, a miracle occurred: Joe Cap had driven up into the yard and was waiting outside, chatting with Ethan as they waited for her and took turns throwing Cady’s ball.
“I went over and checked things out last night,” he drawled as she approached. “Did a real good number with that spray paint. Looks as if someone was inside, too—broke right through a window.”
“Sonofabitch,” Ethan muttered. “Guess the locks didn’t do much good.” He glanced at Diana, his expression a lot less regretful than it had been earlier. In fact, the intensity there made a warm flush rush over her face.
She hoped Joe Cap didn’t notice.
“Ethan says how you were gone all afternoon, and night,” he said, looking at her blandly. “You got back around nine?”
“It was just getting dark. Around nine-thirty, nine-forty-five. I didn’t see anyone,” she added before he could ask. “And I didn’t even go in the house. As soon as I saw the paint, I came here.”
“Someone must’ve known you were gonna be gone, because whatever they did happened before dark,” said Joe. “That’s more’n a bit ballsy if you ask me. Someone’s getting a little desperate.”
“Jesus, Joe, you sound like a bad cop show,” Ethan said, clearly frustrated with the whole situation. “And you can lay the blame for spilling the beans on me. I was in the Grille for dinner yesterday and happened to mention that you’d gone to Portland for the evening.” This last was directed at Diana, his face grim with disgust. “I was talking with Bella and Tommy, and then Helen Galliday came up.”
“You need say no more,” Joe said, shaking his head. “Durn busybody probably had to know every breath the both of you took all day yeste
rday. And from Helen’s lips, it wouldn’t have taken long for everyone in Damariscotta to know that Diana was going to be in Portland for a few hours.”
“She did make a point of mentioning that there were plenty of shops here in town, and why did Diana have to go so far just to buy clothes,” Ethan admitted.
“You think it’s someone here in Damariscotta?” Diana asked, her head beginning to pound. Great. This is the last thing I need.
“I don’t know who else it would be,” said Joe. “Someone’s got to be around here, watching your every move. And surely it’s someone who knew Belinda.”
Ethan glared at him as a shiver caught Diana. Neither of them liked the thought of her being watched all the time.
“How about we head over and you can check around and see if anything’s missing, or been disturbed,” suggested Joe. “And I can finalize the report.”
The Cards of Life and Death (Modern Gothic Romance 2) Page 20