Ethan pursed his lips, then turned back briefly to stir the pasta. "I like a lot of stuff, as you know. The conservatory and Joey and Hawk's and walking dogs that I don't have to bring home later and spending time with you."
"So, you could have done any of those things for a career. Well, besides spending time with me."
"If you were more famous, I could have been your manager," he said, pointing the pasta fork at me in mock accusation. “Then I could make money by spending time with you.”
I laughed. "True. Might still happen," I mused, more to myself than anything. What if, one day, I was a well-known, well-respected stunt double? I'd have to travel a lot. Would Ethan support me? I never imagined myself needing or even wanting a manager, someone who would help me cope with life in the movie business. But thinking of Ethan in that role gave me that same brave, safe feeling I'd had in the car right after we left the party.
"I didn't do any of those things for a job," Ethan said as he scraped the sauce from the pan on the stove to a baking dish, "Because I knew I could make enough money as an actuary to keep doing all those other things in my free time, if I wanted. I'm good at the work, and I don't hate it. And now, look at my life." He lifted his arms and I couldn't help but notice how dry my mouth went watching his arms move. "I have a nice place. I have the Bro Show. And, as long as you're in Philly, I have you."
My heart jumped and a big, stupid smile took over my face. "Yeah. You do. But I'm not doing stunts here." It wasn’t a lie. My conversation with Carol still loomed in the front of my mind, and in my heart, I still desperately wanted to do the stunt work. I didn’t think I’d ever stop wanting that. No matter how happy I was in the calm life, I’d always be waiting for the next time my blood would roar in my ears from pure exhilaration, from the sense that I was living life on the very edge, if only for a moment.
"You're not doing stunts here," he agreed with a soft smile. I was sure he didn’t mean it to seem self-satisfied or patronizing. "Which is much better for your insurance."
I just sighed. And here we were again. Ethan loved that I wasn’t doing the stunt work. Heck, he was almost gloating over it. Natalia from six weeks ago would have spouted off these low-key frustrations in the loudest, most dramatic way possible. But as I watched Ethan move through the kitchen, stirring pasta, wiping the counter as he went, shaking his butt the slightest bit with the music he’d put on in the background – some electronic dance type I never would have put on otherwise – a soft warmth wrapped around my heart like a blanket. Yes, it sucked not doing stunts. No, I hadn’t really asked for any of this, even if I’d agreed to it. Not Ethan, not the gym, not growing up and considering a dozen other peoples’ wants and needs before my own.
And yet, in a very different way than I had been that one time I jumped out of an airplane, I was happy. Living a calm life offered a lingering contentment that I never felt after doing stunt work. I wondered if this life and the one I’d imagined for myself a month ago could ever co-exist. Thinking of the possibility made my heart skip a beat.
My phone buzzed against my thigh from the pocket of Ethan’s sweatpants. I jumped a little, then half-pulled it out, checking the screen. Carol’s name flashed across the display. My breath caught in my throat.
The last few weeks had been so intense that I’d almost completely forgotten about Carol’s call. Almost. In the very few quiet moments, I’d considered taking her up on her offer. It always made my heart and head hurt. I wanted it so badly, but every other sign pointed to “no.” Things were going so well at the gym, and with Ethan. Combined, those things gave me enough excitement to not want to run away all the time. Tonight, between getting some time with Papá and feeling right at home watching Ethan dance around his kitchen cooking comfort food, was the most unexpected happiness I’d experienced in as long as I could remember.
If I was so happy here, why was I even keeping the possibility of taking Carol up on her offer? There was no good reason except my own insecurity, the worry that I might never get another stunt work chance again. In that moment, I knew that if I really wanted to be present to feel every one of the gym’s successes, and every happiness that being with Ethan brought me, I had to talk to Carol. Now. “Be right back,” I said to Ethan, flashing my phone at him as I ducked out of the apartment.
There in the hallway, I told Carol I wouldn’t be taking the job.
She spent a few seconds cajoling me to reconsider, but I could tell just by listening to her that she knew I’d made my choice. “Well, they needed you for a series of stunts, honey. You could probably still get some work on that set. If anything changes in the next month or so, give me a call. I told them nobody on the East Coast could hold a candle to you for this job, and I still believe that. They would take you on in a heartbeat, if I told them to. And I would. I’m counting down the days ‘til you get back to LA, honey.”
She sounded so sad, I almost told her that I couldn’t wait to get back there myself. It would have been true, a couple of weeks ago. Now, I wasn’t so sure. Regardless of what I felt, I loved that she wanted to keep me on her radar, so I thanked her and said I’d call her the second my situation changed.
Ethan’s warm smile when I got back into the kitchen confirmed that I’d made the right decision. Every time I saw him, I felt a little happier. Why would I throw that away for a couple days of work? “Nice butt shakin’,” I commented as I reached over to the counter for a baby carrot and popped it in my mouth. He looked at me with fire in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you ask me to dance?” Ethan asked.
“Huh?” I mumbled under a mouthful of roughage.
"At your dad's party. Why didn't we dance, like your brother and his wife?" He spoke softly, like he was afraid to startle me with the question.
For a second, confusion kept me from saying anything. Then I realized I hadn't taken Ethan to my favorite Latin club yet. Probably because it didn't exactly fit either of our ideas of 'Dangerous Dates,' like we'd originally discussed. Still, maybe I should consider it. It was dangerous in a whole different way, after all. “Because when I dance to Latin music with you, it’s going to be too inappropriate for Papá and my brothers to watch.”
His eyes flared, and with a few practiced movements, he drained the pasta, stirred it into the sauce, and popped the dish into the oven. Then he approached me, slowly. I swore his eyes darkened just a little with each step. "Say that again," he said in a voice several notes deeper than usual.
"When we dance to salsa, Ethan Anderson,” I said, pitching my voice lower to match his, "It is going to be so dirty that I don't want anyone even remotely related to me to see it."
He grabbed my hand and gave it a little tug, pulling me to my feet. I faced him, and we stood there, suddenly panting, only enough space between us to feel the snapping tension that stretched there.
"Show me," he said in a low, demanding growl.
Never breaking eye contact with him, I took his other hand and moved it to my hip, then an inch lower, so his fingers spread across the top of my ass and his thumb rubbed over the jut of my pelvic bone, which just peeked out of the top of his sweats. I wondered if this was sexy, me wearing his clothes. When I stepped in so that our bodies were flush, touching from chest to thighs, I didn't have to wonder any more. He was rock hard, just from this. And we hadn't even kissed yet today.
I'd never felt this much desire for a guy who'd been in my life for this long, I realized, as I moved my hand to the back of his thigh and tugged his leg forward. He let out a quiet groan. I pushed up on my tiptoes and let my breath out, hot against his ear, hoping to make him think of something else hot, wet, and ready for him. "How long is the food going to take?" I asked quietly, holding my body still and solid against his.
Ethan didn't answer, just let out a deep rumbling growl and tightened his grip on my hip, digging his thumb in hard enough to leave a bruise. I gasped, then let my slightly open lips close around his earlobe, pressing down gently. I knew exactly what I was doing
, and when he growled again, then slid his hands under my ass and hoisted me up in the air, I knew I'd succeeded in putting him over the edge.
I beamed as I planted a messy kiss on his lips as Ethan strode with purpose toward the bedroom. A laugh of pure joy bubbled out of my throat when he tossed me on the bed, and in one smooth movement, tugged his sweatpants off me, then tossed them to the floor. His eyes raked down over me - I'd shucked my panties off along with the tight jeans I'd worn to the party, and hadn't bothered to fish them out again - and he whispered a curse.
"You too," I said softly, licking my lips.
The room was just dark enough for us to see each other's outlines, illuminated by the light from the hallway. Even so, I felt like I saw every inch of him in exquisite detailed relief. What I couldn't see, I'd already memorized. Hunger for him rolled through me, and I let out a breath of relief as he crawled over me on the bed.
There was that mix of feelings again. Held. Safe. Invincible.
I drew my knees up to cradle him between my hips and let out a long moan when I felt his cock drag gently through my folds. "That's it," I gasped, like I'd been starved for days and suddenly a feast had been laid out before me. Like I needed this to survive.
“No, it’s not,” he murmured, kissing me long and soft while pushing a hand under my tank, cupping my breast and flicking his thumb over the nipple, before tugging it over my head. The opposite strap tangled in my hair, and I huffed as I tried to extract it. Ethan rolled completely onto one elbow, disentangling it with nimble fingers, smiling down at me fondly.
“You too,” I whispered. I teased my fingers at the bottom hem of his shirt, knowing he was ticklish there. His abs contracted in a hard, surprised laugh, and his cock bobbed against my thigh, making my throat go dry.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he said after tugging the shirt off and tossing it to the floor.
“Oh yeah?” I gasped as he rolled fully on top of me again, lodging the head of his dick right up against my clit.
“Mmmhm,” he said, kissing me long, slow, and soft. My body heated to a thousand degrees and I was suddenly desperate to have him. “As soon as I get a condom,” he murmured in my ear, returning the gentle bite to my earlobe that had gotten him so riled up in the first place.
When he pushed off me to walk to his dresser, where he kept his condom stash, cool air swept over me, blanketing me in emptiness. I knew why he was getting up, but for the first time, I couldn’t let him go. Not at this moment.
* * *
“We don’t need one,” I said. It was true. I’d had IUDs for the past seven years, ever since it had become clear that, with my erratic and spontaneous schedule, filling prescriptions for pills and actually remembering to take them was the same as playing with fire. Except at the end, I wouldn’t get burned – I’d be chained to a house with a baby. The IUD meant I was covered, no matter what. I mostly used condoms when I didn’t know the guy very well or when I sensed that he was starting to get too attached.
This was the first time I’d felt like maybe I was the one getting attached.
“Natalia, I don’t think either of us is ready for a baby, or –”
“IUD,” I gasped as the head of his cock nudged at my entrance again. “Promise, we’re fine. Please, Ethan.”
He huffed out a hot breath into my neck, let his forehead fall against my shoulder like a man defeated, then grabbed at my hip just like he had when we stood in his kitchen. In one smooth, sure motion, he thrust inside me, filling me up and sending shocking jolts of sensation down my thighs. I knew that some girls didn’t like it when their cervix was bumped, and I hadn’t either, the first time I’d experienced it. That guy had been big enough to slam into it, but for some reason still seemed to think he had something to prove, and rammed into me every time like a jackhammer.
Ethan was big too, but instead of pounding away at me relentlessly, he moved in and back out with long, sure, powerful strokes. He lifted his chest from mine just enough to change the angle, and I cried out when he grazed my G-spot. He swallowed the noise with a soft, deep kiss, the perfect contrast to the strong pace he was setting with his hips.
“God, Tali. You’re perfection. This is… oh, fuck.” Something inside Ethan seemed to shift, and his strokes slowed but intensified. He stayed inside longer and barely pulled out before thrusting back in again. Our hips were glued together, lazily rocking in a dance that only we knew the real depth of. “I don’t know how I ever –” Ethan groaned as he bottomed out again. He pulled out, almost like he couldn’t stop himself, and I whimpered with the sudden emptiness. He plunged in again, and I cried out as every cell in my body felt lit on fire. He gasped, and finally managed, “It’s never been like this.”
Hot electricity traveled from the base of my spine and shot down through ever nerve, every pore, every cell. Every piece of me moved in perfect harmony with every piece of him, and the tightening pleasure was more intense with every passing moment, with every gasp we shared, with every rustle of the sheets caused by the perfect steady movement of our bodies in tandem.
He was right. Or, at least, I agreed. It had never been like this for me either, and I told him so, gasping as he sped up a little more, pulled out an extra millimeter before slamming back in just a touch harder. He was close now, I knew from the subtle change in the pitch of his groans, in the way his hands grabbed at me slightly more frantically. And I was close too, savoring that feeling of being so full you’re about to burst, wanting to be filled to the brim with pleasure for as long as possible before it all spilled over and left me spent.
“Ethan, you’re… oh, fuck!” I shouted as the most delicious orgasm ever raced to its peak.
He slowed just a touch, even though I could already feel his cock hardening even more, could feel my own slickness increase around it, knew that this was going to be one for the record books. If there was a dictionary for my life, this moment would be described in the entry for “incredible sex.” Or maybe “incomparable” or “unforgettable” or…
“No, don’t stop,” I gasped, digging my fingers into his ass and pulling him impossibly closer to me.
“Wasn’t stopping,” he groaned, his breath eddying against my collarbone. “Savoring. Tali, honey, are you -?”
“So close. Fuck!” I shouted before gulping for air again. “Ethan…” His name left my lips like a plea and a song of worship all wrapped up together. It seemed to inspire him. He planted one hand beside my head, worked the other down between my legs, and glided his thumb over my clit in rhythm with his smooth, long thrust. A few seconds later, stars swam through my vision, heralded by a throaty scream that accompanied my back arching toward the ceiling.
Seconds later, as my muscles clenched around him, Ethan came, spilling inside me with a hoarse shout, then kissing every inch of my face before lowering himself, panting, to my side. His arm and leg still draped over mine, and he ghosted kisses on my shoulder and across my collarbone before I turned into him, situating my knee between his, tucking my forehead against his chest, savoring the warm, slightly sweaty air that seemed to wrap us in a bubble that protected us from everything else in the world.
Our breaths fell into a common rhythm, and after a few more moments I lifted my head to look into Ethan’s eyes. They studied me, content and adoring, like I was everything he ever wanted, everything he’d ever need.
And at that exact moment, my heart, expanding and flooding me with warmth, told me that I felt the same way. I loved him. That didn’t mean I found the courage to say the words.
“You’re amazing,” I sighed, before kissing his mouth, savoring the taste, wanting to memorize the feel of his lips, soft and sure, against mine. Finally, I released them, and leaned my forehead against his chest again. It only took a breath for a small sliver of fear to creep in.
* * *
I’d never told anyone besides my family that I loved them before. I’d never wanted to, so I’d never even considered it. In fact, if a man got so attach
ed to me that I sensed he was about to say it, I’d always broken it off. I didn’t need to be tied down anywhere anyway, and especially not because of a guy who I didn’t feel that way about.
But a second later, he traced the outer shell of my ear with his lips, and whispered, “We’re amazing.” Then his arms wrapped around me and pulled me in so tight that I felt the air rush out of my lungs. I laughed and pressed kisses to his neck, his chest, his throat, and then his lips again. I wasn’t sure I’d ever experienced pure, perfect happiness, until that very moment. Ethan loved me, and I loved him. Neither of us had said it, but it didn’t matter. We both knew.
We kissed for a long time in his bed, letting our warm hands wander over each other’s bodies. Giddy laughter between kisses turned to sighing when lips and tongues and teeth hit the right spots, which turned to whimpers and then groans. Eventually, Ethan rolled me on top of him, anchoring my hips over his. When he pushed inside me again, I gasped at his perfect fit, the perfect way he held me, the perfect feeling of being loved and cherished and desired so desperately that he couldn’t imagine wanting anyone the way he wanted me. When he flipped me onto my back and brought me to the edge of completion with those solid, delicious thrusts, he kissed my throat and whispered praise and adoration into my skin. I came with a low groan and panted praise in his ear, telling him to let go, to come inside me, that there wasn’t anything I wanted more in the entire world.
When he did, we both lay there, stunned. The sheer power of us together, tonight, was different than anything I’d ever experienced – anything I’d ever imagined.
There wasn’t much in the world I felt certain of – never had been. But that night, two things became crystal clear – I loved Ethan, and I didn’t want to let him go. Not for anything.
We stayed that way, clinging to each other, until we fell asleep.
Chapter 22
Just Let Go Page 18