She shifted beneath him, her eyelashes fluttering.
“You love this, don’t you?” he asked softly.
Despite her bobbing head, her nod was unmistakable. She renewed her efforts, twisting her hand at the base, and when she tilted her mouth at the head to shoot him a sultry look, that was all it took. He gripped her shoulder and came with a soft groan, pulsing into her mouth while she kept up the tight suction.
He let his head fall back again, this time unable to lift it again. He felt her tuck his softened cock back into his pants. Then her scent was all around him again as she settled herself astride his lap. His arms automatically wrapped around her back while she loomed over him, all smeared lipstick and self-satisfied smile.
She nibbled on his lips, slightly tentative, as if she wasn’t sure he’d want to kiss her. But fuck that, he did want to kiss her, so he pressed her close and opened his mouth to delve his tongue inside. She sighed and relaxed in his arms, spearing her fingers through his hair as she gripped his head.
The kiss was slow and lazy and not urgent, just a gentle meshing of tongues. When she pulled back, she ran a finger down the side of his face. She lingered on his jaw, her gaze following her hand, and it took a minute in his post-orgasmic bliss to notice she was looking at his scars.
No. It might be backward, but his dick in her mouth didn’t afford her him. Even though he registered this was going to crash and burn, he couldn’t stop his knee-jerk reaction.
He stiffened, immediately on guard, and his head shot up so fast they nearly collided noses. She reared back, her hands dropping to his shoulders. “I—”
But he couldn’t look her in the eye anymore, because he’d see pity there. Sympathy. He’d see himself reflected in those brown eyes, and he wouldn’t like what he saw. He gently guided her off him, and she stared at him while he fumbled to open up the door. He stepped out, righting his clothes as well as he could and glancing around the parking lot.
There were a couple of cars at the opposite end now, but Ethan didn’t see any people. He turned around as Lissa exited the vehicle, and he cleared his throat. “Thank you—”
She held up a hand, and her eyes flashed. “Do not thank me for that. Please.”
He clenched his jaw and gave her a stiff nod. She stood with her hands on his hips, studying his face, but he carefully kept his gaze trained over her shoulder.
“So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” she asked.
“I don’t know what that means.” His voice was stiff and so cold it even made him shiver.
She sighed and moved to take her camera bag off his car. She checked the contents, muttering to herself about how stupid she’d been to leave it out where anything could have been taken.
“If anything was stolen, I’d have paid for—”
“Oh my God, Ethan, shut the fuck up. I wouldn’t let you pay me for anything that was stolen, because it happened while I was giving you a blow job. I don’t want your money or your thanks. I’d like you to look me in the eye and quit treating me like what we did was wrong or that you took advantage of me.”
He took a deep breath and steeled himself with a neutral expression before meeting her gaze.
She searched his face, and after a minute, her lips thinned and she nodded. “Right, okay then. I don’t know what…I don’t know what’s going on to make you turn into stone like I’m fucking Medusa, but you know the best thing about hookups, Ethan? The best thing about not getting emotionally attached?”
He didn’t answer.
She hiked her bag over her shoulder and shot him a withering look. “The best thing is that I don’t care.”
And then she walked away to a green Jeep in the corner of the lot. He stayed where he was, staring off into the park while he heard her start up her vehicle and drive away in a squeal of tires.
I don’t care.
Yeah, well he didn’t, either.
…
By the time Lissa parked outside her apartment, her hands had stopped shaking. She’d gone from mild annoyance to anger about what happened back there. Against Ethan’s car. Inside it. Then outside it again.
“I don’t care. I don’t care,” she chanted to herself. But that anger was slowly shifting to concern the more she replayed everything in her head.
At first she’d felt casted aside, but now that she thought more about it, everything about Ethan’s posture and expression afterward had been about him. She might have done or said something to prompt him to retreat into himself, but it was his choice to act like that. It wasn’t about her, so she shouldn’t have cared, but yet she did. This man clearly wanted her, enough to follow her to the park while she was working.
Why was he such a hard bastard to read? And what was he hiding behind that impassive expression and scarred skin?
It wasn’t about the project anymore. Well, it was, but it was also about him. She hadn’t been there for her sister, and Rona wasn’t alive anymore. She wasn’t substituting Ethan for Rona, but she couldn’t get him out of her head. What if she could help him? He was in her head now, on her skin. When he let his guard drop down, when he allowed himself to laugh in her studio, it had been a wonderful thing. She’d seen glimpses of the old charming E-Rad shine through. But his laugh had been rusty. He was exactly the type of person she was trying to reach with her project.
She didn’t know what do anymore, but she couldn’t forget about Ethan, no matter how much she wanted to.
After trudging up the stairs with her camera bag, she opened her door to the sound of a pounding base and the smell of something burning. She groaned to herself as Angel let loose a loud rap verse.
She dropped her bags and walked over to the TV, where the music was coming from, and immediately muted it.
Angel cursed and spun around, a towel thrown over his shoulder, eyes wide. “Hey! I didn’t hear you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, I gathered that, seeing as I couldn’t hear myself think with how loud your music was.”
“Sorry, when you’re not here, I let loose.”
She snorted and flopped down on the couch. Their apartment was an open floor plan, so she could see him working away in the kitchen from the living room. “Whatcha’ burning?”
“I’m not burning anything!” he protested.
“It smells—”
“That was so ten minutes ago,” he said. “Everything’s fine now.”
She made a note to check the trash for whatever he’d burned. Hopefully it wasn’t still sizzling. “Okay, so what are you cooking?”
“Uh, some sausage thing.”
That was specific. “Am I going to like this sausage thing?”
“Sure.”
That didn’t sound promising. But she didn’t really care. She slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet under her, then lay on her side with her head on a pillow.
She hadn’t realized she’d drifted off until something shook her shoulder.
“Lissa?” her brother said softly.
She blinked her eyes open to see him standing above her, holding a bowl of soup and frowning. She stretched with her arms over her head and sat up. “Wow, sorry about that.”
“You never fall asleep like that,” he said, still frowning.
She shrugged, not wanting to tell her an afternoon delight made her crave nap time. “I don’t know, just tired I guess.”
He didn’t seem appeased. “You need to work less.”
“Quit mothering me. Now, are you going to give me that bowl or just tempt me with the delicious smells?”
Now he grinned. “It’s a sausage chili.”
She took the bowl from him, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic. “Mmm.” She took a bite and let the bold flavors rest on her tongue. “This is incredible, Angel.”
He stood in front of her, wringing his hands, waiting for her reaction. “Yeah?”
“Of course.”
He fist pumped the air then retreated to the kitchen to get his own bowl. Soon t
hey were snuggled onto the couch together, watching reruns over bowls of steaming chili. And Lissa was doing her best not to think about the infuriating man she’d seen that afternoon.
Chapter Ten
The search for a face for Gamers was starting to feel hopeless.
Grant sighed heavily as he stacked yet another resume in the “not interested” file. Ethan sat at the conference table with him, reclined in his chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, fingers of one hand tapping a rhythm on the oak. “Still nothing?” he asked.
Grant shoved the papers aside and ran his hands through his hair. “Nope.”
Ethan wanted to avoid at all costs another conversation about him taking the role. “Maybe we can just abandon it for now—”
“You want to abandon an important part of our business plan? Really?” Grant rocked his chair, hands on the arms. “Ethan Talley wants to deviate from the business plan? What universe are we in?”
“I’m flexible,” he muttered.
Grant scoffed. “You’re as flexible as a fucking steel door, you liar.”
“No, I’m realistic.”
“All you’re doing is avoiding talking about you taking this job, even though we both know you’d be the best person for it.”
They were supposed to be friends, but lately Grant seemed like he was being puppet-mastered by Chloe. “It’s starting to really piss me off lately how you think you seem to know what’s best for me.”
Grant narrowed his eyes, humor gone from his expression as his knuckles curled into a tight grip on his chair. “I’ve always been a pushy guy, so that’s nothing new. And I have Chloe in my ear, telling me she’s still worried about you. So you know what? Yes, I do think the best thing for you is to put yourself out there again. To see that there is a wider world than your little narrow worldview of pain and guilt.”
Anger surged through Ethan in a white-hot flare as he slammed his hand down on the table. “How dare you?”
Grant stood up abruptly, sending his chair rolling backwards. “I’m so overstepping right now, that I can’t even see the line. I know that. But know that I’m doing it because I love Chloe and goddamnit, I love you, too, even though you’re a grumpy bastard. I wish you could see you how we all see you now. You choose to define yourself by what you did years ago. By one mistake—”
“It wasn’t just one fucking mistake, Grant. Calling the death of my sister a mistake trivializes the whole thing—”
“What happened was nothing short of a tragedy,” Grant said, tugging on his hair. “But you continuing to live in misery is a choice. A choice you make every day. A choice you force us to witness over and over and over again. Chloe is still here and she wants her big brother.”
Ethan’s chest tightened and he swore he was having a panic attack. “She has me.”
Grant shook his head, his shoulders sagging. “She has this broken version of you. Which isn’t fair to you or her.”
Ethan turned his head away, staring out the large windows of the conference room. He didn’t know what to say and he had no desire to listen to Grant anymore. Chloe was a sore spot for him, as his only sibling left. He worked so hard after Samantha’s death to be there for Chloe, to protect her. He’d failed once already, not knowing she was placing the fixing of their broken family on her shoulders.
“She doesn’t need you to do anything but be Ethan and be happy,” Grant said quietly. “You don’t have to worry about her. But you have to understand she loves you. If you didn’t have people that cared about you, everyone would just leave you alone. So think about that. We’re a pain in your ass because we care.”
Ethan didn’t answer and heard Grant huff out a breath before leaving. Ethan was alone in the conference room, and he might even be the only one in the whole office at this time on a Friday afternoon.
He didn’t move, though. He didn’t make an effort to go after Grant; instead he sat in the conference room and brooded.
And man, he was tired of brooding. He was tired of being a miserable bastard whose sister had to hound him to make him act like a human.
The only reason lately he’d felt like he had something to live for was his job, his sister, and…Lissa.
And he’d fucked that up. Around her, he wasn’t the former E-Rad. He wasn’t the scarred Ethan Talley. He was…Ethan. Just a guy. A guy who made her laugh, who made her come. Just a guy.
He’d let his own issues invade their time at the park and he’d lashed out at her. He wanted to let the whole thing go. Time would heal everything over, and eventually she’d barely remember him.
But the thought of her thinking he used her, him knowing he hadn’t treated her well, soured his stomach. She hadn’t deserved that. She hadn’t asked for one single thing from him except what he asked of her. And he’d still treated her like she would want more.
So even though he knew he should let it go, he couldn’t. He had to see her one last time, to tell her that she’d made him happy for a brief moment. That when she was in his arms, he hadn’t thought about all the reasons he hated himself.
He still didn’t quite understand what she was getting out of this arrangement, but she hadn’t turned him away yet. That was the thing with Lissa—in the short time he’d known her—he believed what she said. He believed that what she was thinking would come out of her mouth. That she wouldn’t hold back. That she’d call him out on being an asshole but then fucked with all the passion she possessed.
He had grown infatuated with her without even realizing it. How had that happened? And most of all, how the hell was he going to apologize?
…
Lissa’s legs ached as she made her way to her car in the darkened parking lot. Every time she worked an event, she told herself over and over again not to lock her knees when she was standing. And to take some ibuprofen. She always forgot.
The charity event had been for the Willow Park Historical Society. It was a nonprofit, so she’d greatly reduced her rate. They’d plied her with food in thanks, and those little beef sliders had been delicious.
As she gazed up into the star-filled sky, her thoughts turned to Ethan, as they always had since that afternoon in the park. It’d been two weeks, and although she hadn’t expected to hear from Ethan, it still stung.
She wished she knew his story, so she could make him happy for longer than what it took him to come. There was a reason he wasn’t the charming E-Rad anymore. She’d always been a curious woman, and Ethan was her focus right now.
She needed to get over it. She’d make her project work without him, because she knew now she could never approach him to ask for the favor. Even in Rona’s name. Ethan needed to be respected, and they were both too affected by what had happened to remain impartial.
He’d accused her of using him, and she couldn’t let him think that.
Her phone rang, and she dug in her purse until she pulled out the device. She didn’t bother glancing at the caller ID, assuming it was Angel. “Hello?”
There was a pause, then a voice so deep, it was a rumble. “Lissa.”
She stopped walking and blinked at the darkness in front of her. “Ethan?”
Another pause. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. Just leaving an event I was shooting.”
“Oh.” His voice was softer now. “I’m sure you’re tired then, I won’t—”
“Wait!” She held a hand out, even though he couldn’t see her. “Wait. Why are you calling? I’ll decide if I’m tired enough.” Her last sentence held a bit of an attitude, and she cringed.
He exhaled into the phone. “I wanted to apologize for…shit.”
There was a rustling, like he was rubbing his face. Lissa shuffled her feet. “Ethan?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to meet?”
More rustling then. “Only if you’re not too tired from work—”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to do it.”
There was a smile in his voice when he said,
“Right. Of course.”
“Where do you want to meet?”
“Are you comfortable coming to my house? The dead bodies buried in my basement barely smell at all.”
Lissa laughed. “Wow, an Ethan Talley original joke. I feel special.”
“Don’t get used to it. I won’t spoil you with my amazing sense of humor.”
“I’ll come over.”
“Okay.”
“Text me the address. I’m leaving now.”
“Okay, drive safe.” And then the line went dead.
Lissa stared at her phone for a minute, biting her lip. This was probably a bad idea. She’d go over there, they’d have sex, and then he’d probably turn cold again. At first, it’d been all physical. She wanted him, he wanted her, and their chemistry was great. She would have been fine to keep it to strictly hookups, but now that she’d seen more of Ethan, her fix-it gene was kicking in. Which wasn’t really fair. Ethan probably didn’t want to be fixed and surely not by some random woman he slept with a couple of times.
She sighed. There was no sense in wasting a really good hair day on a bunch of guests who didn’t pay attention to the camera lady in the corner. After a decade of weaves, she’d gone natural about two years ago, and her short curls were on point today. At least she could see Ethan on a day she looked fabulous.
So she got in her car, programmed her GPS to the address he texted, and began to drive.
His house was a large colonial set all by its lonesome at the end of a cul-de-sac. The perimeter was marked with tall tress, so his house wasn’t visible to his neighbors. She wasn’t surprised. Not one bit.
After parking in his driveway, she pulled her camera bag out of the car with her. No matter how private his house was, she never left her camera equipment alone. That was her livelihood.
She wore a plain T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and flat sneakers. She felt frumpy, but she hadn’t planned to be summoned by Ethan Talley.
She knocked, and when he opened the door, her mouth went dry. She sure wasn’t thinking about her clothes anymore. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants low on his hips, bare feet, and a faded Phillies T-shirt.
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