When his thumb slides under the waistband of my jeans and then the top of my underwear, curving around my hip, a round of fireworks sets off in my belly and heat shoots up to my cheeks. I’m ready for more, but I don’t want to be the only one exposed.
“Your pants for mine, Ethan. It’s the only way these jeans are coming off.”
His fingers pause on the button of my jeans and he looks up at me, his gaze swirling in blue-black intensity. “I need to keep them on, Nara. I wasn’t expecting us to…I don’t have any protection with me.”
“I’m on the pill.”
His eyes light up. “You are?”
When I nod, his brow furrows. “Did you bring them with you?”
I sigh. “No. I came straight from school. I didn’t expect to be spending the night away.” When he drops his head to my chest, I ask, “You’re wearing underwear, right?”
His head pops back up. “Yes.”
I smile. “Your jeans for mine.”
Ethan’s jaw muscle flexes a couple of times. Just when I think he’s about to refuse, he releases my hands and sits up to unbutton his jeans.
My heart thumps at a crazy rate as I sit up and shrug out of my bra. I start to unbutton my pants when Ethan’s hand closes around mine. “Let me do it.”
He’s sitting beside me in his black fitted underwear, his ripped body begging to be touched, so I move my hand and lean back, intending to admire every delicious dip and hollow that sculpts his mouthwatering shoulders, chest and thighs.
But Ethan doesn’t just unbutton my jeans. He presses his mouth against mine and kisses me deeply as he tugs the button free and slides my zipper down.
By the time he’s tugged my jeans open, I’m shaking so much my arms can’t support my weight. I fall back against the bed and lift up so he can slide the material past my hips and down my legs.
As my jeans drop to the floor, I lift a trembling hand and run it along his bicep, mesmerized by the strength. “Are you ever going to tell me how you got my dad out of that hotel room right under those men’s noses?”
“One day.” Ethan flashes a confident smile, then curves a hand over my hip and down to my rear. Clasping the cheek, his gaze traces my body before his hand moves to the back of my thigh, flexing against the muscle. “You are so beautiful,” he says quietly, his tone reverent and full of longing.
Before I can say anything, he kisses my bellybutton. When his tongue dips inside and his hand tightens around my thigh, I arch and dig my fingers into his scalp, panting, “You’re teasing me on purpose.”
He sits up on his elbow and a dangerous smile curves his lips as he captures the hand I threaded in his hair. “I’m savoring. Huge difference.”
“Still feels like tort—” The sensation of Ethan’s thumb sliding my underwear down one hip cuts me off.
When he leans over to kiss my birthmark, then just keeps his mouth pressed against the crease of my leg, the tender and lingering kiss pushes new emotions to my throat. How does he manage to burrow even deeper into my heart? I hold my breath and trail my fingers down his back, tracing the top of the sword before resting my hand against his skin.
Ethan’s back muscles flex under my hand and a burst of heat gusts from his mouth, spreading along my thigh. The carnal sensation sends warmth flooding through my veins. I moan and grip his shoulder, pressing my palm flat.
Ethan’s hips jerk against me and his fingers grip the inside of my thigh next to him, pulling me tight against his hardness. He quickly lifts his gaze to mine, his face rigid. Shoulders tensing, he shakes his head and says in a raw voice, “I can’t. Nara. Stop.”
“What?” I lift my hand, unsure what I’ve done wrong.
Ethan exhales and his tense shoulders relax, but he doesn’t release me. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t concentrate while you were touching me. It’s just too intense.”
“You don’t want me to touch you?” I try to sit up but Ethan doesn’t move. He’s blocking me in.
“I’m on the edge.” He lets out a strained laugh. “When you touched me like that, it feels like you’re touching me. I definitely want that. Just not yet.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “But all I did was touch your back.”
He lifts my hand and kisses my fingers. “Apparently you’ve got the magic touch. Let me focus on you right now.”
I shake my head. “Somehow that doesn’t seem fair.”
“Trust me, this is just as good for me.” His grin could melt my pants off if they weren’t already on the floor. With a soft laugh, he runs his thumb along my fingers, pushing them out of the way so he can nuzzle my palm. As soon as his nose touches my scar, I close my eyes and move closer to him.
When Ethan suddenly slides his thumb from one side of my scar to the other and an involuntary groan rushes past my lips, I tense and my eyes fly open.
Ethan’s watching my face intently. “What do you feel when I do this?”
Before he can touch my scar, I clamp my fingers closed. If he does it again, I have no idea what kinds of embarrassing sounds might erupt before I can stop them.
I try to pull my hand away, but Ethan doesn’t release it. “Why didn’t you tell me that pressure on this scar turns you on?”
Face flaming, I try to roll away, but Ethan slides his leg between mine, locking me in place. “Why, Nara?”
“Because I’m already turned on by you. It’s just another way to make me feel—” His thumb wiggles past my folded fingers and he pushes on my scar again. “…aahhhh.”
“Even more turned on?” Ethan supplies, his dark eyes glittering with wicked triumph.
I attempt to tug my hand away, but he shakes his head, smiling as he trails his other hand down my neck, over the swell of my breast, then along my belly. “I’ve finally found a way to make you feel as intensely about me as I do about you. And I’m taking full advantage of it.”
“But you don’t need that,” I say as he pulls my hand to his mouth and presses his lips to my scar. I gasp and arch off the bed, my body trembling all over.
“Amazing,” he murmurs against my hand before he turns and plants a kiss on my belly, and then another kiss, moving lower.
The feel of his hand moving up the inside of my thigh rockets my heart rate into the stratosphere. I thread my fingers through his thick hair and welcome the press of his hard body against mine, my stomach flexing in anticipation.
Time seems to stand still as Ethan doesn’t leave a single bit of my skin untouched. My pulse races and my love for him rises and swells. His hands caress and slide over me so intimately and tenderly my chest aches. I press harder against him, because I just can’t get close enough.
Ethan nips my skin, branding and teasing me with hot kisses. His touch grows bolder and his words and movements amp in intensity, sweeping me along with him on the wave of building passion. I’m a quivering mess by the time he finally connects where I desperately want him. The warm press of his hands along my thighs and the heat and intimacy of his mouth moving over me take me higher than I ever imagined possible.
Crying out, I cling to him. Marveling in the flood of buzzing sensations flowing through me, I absorb every bit of pleasure he selflessly gives.
As I come down from my high, Ethan moves over me and murmurs in my ear, “I’m forever addicted to you, Inara Collins.”
He truly owns my heart.
I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and pull his full weight on me. Pressing my face to his neck, I shake my head with a regretful sigh, then meet his gaze. “I wish we didn’t have to leave so I could make that a true statement.”
Heat flares in his gaze and he grunts his frustration. “I’ll need an entire night to do everything I want with you.” Clasping my waist, he flashes a smile of pure sin and presses his hardness against me. With nothing but a pair of cotton underwear between us, I feel everything he wants, and I can’t help but squirm under him. I desperately want that too. When I start to wrap my legs around his waist, he clamps a hand on my hip to hold m
e still, then sets his forehead on mine and exhales a harsh breath. “It can’t get here soon enough.”
I cup his jaw and kiss his forehead, then whisper against his ear, “I can’t wait.”
Ethan drops his head to my neck and groans deeply, then rolls over, pulling me with him. “You’re killing me, Sunshine.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nara
“Don’t even think about touching me,” Ethan says in a low voice outside my dad’s hospital room.
Even though the nurses aren’t at their station right now, I glance at the crystal necklace in his hand and whisper, “My dad will be the one wearing it.”
“I can’t control what you do while I’m asleep.” His gaze narrows. “And don’t touch your dad either.”
I shake my head. “You really don’t trust me, do you?”
His only answer is a cocked eyebrow.
I raise my right hand. “I solemnly promise not to touch you ever again.”
When he scowls, I sigh. “Fine. I promise not to touch you or my dad while you’re asleep.”
Nodding his approval, he pulls me into my dad’s dark room.
While I wrap the necklace around my dad’s wrist and gently lay the crystal in his hand, Ethan quietly moves a chair close to the bed. Setting it down, he gestures for me to get the other chair, then settles in the one next to the bed.
As soon as I sit down, Ethan grasps my hand and brings my fingers to his lips. Pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles, he glances at my pockets with a stern look.
I sigh and tuck my hands inside my pockets as Ethan lightly touches my dad’s arm.
Ethan quickly lifts his hand when my dad stirs and rolls onto his side facing us. We glance at each other, both frozen, waiting. My gaze strays to my dad’s hand to show Ethan he’s gripping the crystal. Ethan dips his head in a curt nod, then sets his elbows on the bed and his hand on my dad’s arm.
I exhale, relieved my dad’s eyes don’t fly open. While Ethan slowly folds his arms on the bed, then lays his head on his forearms facing me, I want so badly to touch him. Just to tell him thank you for helping, but I know he’ll misinterpret my action, so I curl my fingers inside my coat pockets and smile instead.
Ethan’s lips quirk, then his face relaxes as he closes his eyes.
It seems like I wait forever before I allow myself to glance at the clock on the wall. An hour has passed. It’s almost eleven. Both Ethan and my father are so still. I’ve never watched anyone sleep before and it’s far more nerve-wracking than I thought it would be.
Shouldn’t they be shifting some? Or making noises in their sleep? Shouldn’t I hear them breathing?
The last thought brings me to my feet. Ethan’s breathing is strong and even. I lean over my father and strain in the darkness to watch for the rise and fall of his chest for proof that he’s not struggling in any way. Finally I make out his shoulder lifting.
Blowing out a quiet breath, I start to sit back down in my seat when warm breath tickles my neck. My gaze jerks to Ethan, and I swallow a gasp.
He’s sitting up, and his glittering black eyes follow me back to my seat with brutal intensity.
“I didn’t touch any—”
Ethan’s hand whips around my wrist in a crushing grip and a ruthless, dark smile curves his lips, his voice low and commanding. “You’re needed.”
Nara
As light bleeds into the hotel room, Ethan moves with lightning speed, ripping the machine gun from the dark-haired man’s hands, then slamming the butt against the man’s jaw in one smooth, swift movement. The second the guy crumples to the ground, something whizzes past Ethan’s shoulder.
My stomach drops as a bullet hole appears in the wall beside him. “Look out!”
Ethan pivots and glares at the other dark-haired man behind him holding a handgun. The man’s eyes slit hatefully as he trains the gun’s silencer on the center of Ethan’s bare chest. Jerking his chin to the right, he motions through the doorway to an empty bed, speaking hurriedly in a language I don’t understand.
Ethan’s lips crook in bored amusement. He says something to the guy in the same language, then glances at the gun as if challenging him.
The kidnapper’s face turns bright red and he pulls the trigger. Ethan jolts to the right, avoiding the bullet. Another hole appears in the hotel room wall. Ethan faces the man once more, his eyebrow raised.
Veins bulge in the man’s forehead. Cursing Ethan, he charges him, pumping the trigger several times in rapid succession.
Ethan dodges so fast the bullets seem to move right through him. With one aggressive step forward, he meets the man head-on, hammering his fist into the guy’s face so hard the man slams against the far wall, unconscious before he hits the ground.
Once both men are down, Ethan uses telephone and cable cords to bind their arms and legs behind them.
Just as Ethan finishes tying up the last man, a vile smell reaches my nose. I stiffen and turn, following Ethan’s line of sight as a skin-crawling sensation slides up my spine, lifting the hair on my scalp.
A man with thinning light brown hair stands in the hotel room’s doorway. One arm is the size of a child’s and his shriveled, deformed fingers grip a gun. His other arm hangs to his thigh with an oversized meat cleaver for a hand. He could’ve stepped right out of a horror movie. But it’s his face that makes my stomach nauseous. It’s misshapen and twisted as if someone took a hammer to it and the bones and features reformed in all the wrong places.
He steps inside and shuts the door, a look of evil delight spreading across his gnarled, sunken face. His appearance is frightening enough, but the malevolence that pushes into the room with him rips a scream from my throat. I stumble back, my legs barely holding me up.
Ethan runs his hand through his hair and shakes his head, snorting. “I should’ve known one of you would be behind this.” As he curls his left hand in a “come and get me motion”, his raven sword slowly extends behind his right hand. Gripping the hilt, he steps forward, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips. Ethan slides a booted toe across the carpet, drawing a line between them. “Try and cross it.”
The creature throws his gun to the side like a water pistol, then charges at full speed toward Ethan. As the floor rumbles under heavy footfalls that sound much bigger than the creature itself, I hear my name.
“Nari,” my dad calls from the bedroom doorway. He’s standing there, watching the interaction between Ethan and the monster in wide-eyed disbelief.
I skirt the room and rush into his open arms. Shivering, I’m happy to have found him, but I’m also worried for Ethan. He’d told me there weren’t any demons holding my father hostage. Is this man just an invention in one of Ethan’s crazy dreams?
Ethan feigns right, then slices his sword down the creature’s left side, cutting off his shriveled arm.
Instead of blood gushing, the putrid smell of death fills the room, along with the man’s piercing roar of fury. The sound is so similar to Ethan’s fight with Drake, I know this is a demon.
Ethan plows a fist into the guy’s face, knocking him over the coffee table and onto the couch. The second Ethan bounds over the table, the creature swings his foot, hooking Ethan in the chest. I wince when Ethan’s side hits the bar, then exhale in relief once he pushes off and grips his sword tight, anger burning in his gaze.
“Where are we?” my dad asks, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.
As Ethan and the demon circle each other, looking for weaknesses, I turn to my dad. “We’re in Ethan’s dreams.”
Anger flits through my dad’s features. “But I told you—”
Ethan slamming against the doorjamb next to us cuts our conversation off. We both jerk back and keep our attention focused on Ethan and the demon.
A deep guttural laugh erupts from the creature’s mouth located where his jaw would normally be. Inhaling through his smashed nose, he widens his beady eyes and advances on Ethan, stomping as he closes the distance between them.
> Ethan shakes the grogginess from his head and swipes the trickle of blood from his mouth. Raising his sword, he braces his stance. “Come on, asswipe. I’m ready to end you.”
Once the creature takes one more step, Ethan arcs his sword and shoves it right through his chest. Tension eases out of me as a poof of yellow smoke expels from the man’s body. Then I tense all over again when Ethan stares at him for a couple of seconds, then twists his sword. The man explodes into a fine cloud of powder that disappears before it hits the ground.
Satisfaction reflects in Ethan’s face as he draws the tip of his sword across the carpet. “That was one step too many.”
Just as the blade starts to disappear and the sword’s ink begins to snake up and around Ethan’s arm, crackling electricity rends the air.
When the room spins, I grab onto my dad’s hand and speak as fast as I can. “You’re about to meet Fate. All you have to do is tell him to back off. That you have free will and your fate is your own.”
Fate’s pleased laughter echoes in the darkness around us like creepy, three-dimensional surround sound. “What good deed have I done to deserve this Collins duo windfall? Two birds with one stone.”
My dad tenses beside me, which only fuels my anger at Fate. I raise my chin. “Stop skulking in the dark,” I snap. “Turn on the lights so we can talk. Don’t you want to see our faces?”
“Inara!” my dad hisses, wrapping a protective arm around my shoulder.
“I can see you just fine,” Fate says, “but I would like to see your father’s face when he meets me.”
As soon as Fate lights up the blank space, he’s twice the size of the smoky figure he’s always presented to me. Hovering in front of us like a swirling, human-shaped storm cloud, his sunken eye sockets appear even larger and eerier than usual. He crosses his gaseous arms and slants his gaping mouth in disapproval as his frigid presence expands, making our breaths plume in front of us.
“So we finally meet, Jonathan. Aren’t you at least going to acknowledge me?”
Clearing his throat, my dad tries to push me behind him, but I don’t trust Fate’s mild mannered disposition. I refuse to budge. “Listen, Fate—”
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