Forever Embers (Embers Series Book 3)

by L. S. Pullen

  Chapter Ten

  Ethan

  Charlotte wasn’t joking about her shift pattern, but we text whenever we get the chance. It’s flirtatious and a fun, welcome distraction from everything else going on with Meg and my brother, Henry. Just because something is inevitable doesn’t mean seeing it into fruition is easy. I wanted to be selfish and never let her go, but how could I claim to love her knowing she didn’t love me the same way?

  I know she loved me, and I’m pretty sure she still does, in her own way. I saw the heartbreak, and it crushed her when I dumped her. Hell, it shattered me. And my timing couldn’t have been worse. But it had been brewing for a while. My adrenaline was piqued, so I did it before I lost the courage to do so. When I woke from the coma, for a brief moment, I’d forgotten what I had done. I asked Henry to get Meg––an irrational part of me needed to know she was still here, that she didn’t hate me.

  It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, denying my feelings for her, offering her friendship when I wanted everything else with her too. Henry never said, but I know it hurt him; when I started dating her, and even though he was with Clara at the time, I felt the twinge deep in my chest.

  To this day, I don’t know why he got with Clara. Meg liked him. It was obvious, and maybe that makes me a fool because I already knew that, but I took my chance with Meg anyway. And when she didn’t shoot me down, I relished being with her.

  I almost caved when she came to see me in hospital with hope in her eyes. I berated myself for not begging her to forgive me and take me back. But the damage had been done. Even if we did, there would always be that undercurrent of why I did what I did in the first place. Granted, I was on a lot of pain medication and hooked up to a machine or two, but it wasn’t enough to see there was an invisible shift between Henry and Meg.

  They tried to hide whatever it was, but I’m not blind, and even if I were, I’d still sense it. Maybe a big part of me had hoped I’d been wrong, wished Meg had fought for me, for us. But she didn’t, and even though I hid it well, I was still hurt.

  But now Henry and Meg have acknowledged there’s something between them. I knew moving back in with him and Nathan would make it more complicated. And as much as I love my mum, I need my space. It’s helped me, moving into my own place.

  And now here I am, trying to navigate meeting up with Charlotte. We agreed to keep it casual. Maybe it’s wrong sleeping with her when I’m not entirely over someone, but it’s not as though I’m cheating or hurting anyone else, and we both know where we stand. But it’s clear neither of us has done this before, so I suck it up, ready to make the first move.

  Me: Let me know when you want to get together.

  I place my phone face down. See? That was easy enough.

  Opening my laptop, I get back to working on coding this programme. If someone had told me this is what I’d be doing, I would’ve probably laughed in their face. But it’s something I excel at, and the money is more than reasonable. Plus, I can work my own hours––with deadlines, of course––and it’s been good to be able to get lost in my work when needed.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been coding when my phone buzzes on my desk. I turn it face up.

  Charlotte: I’m free now!

  Flicking my wrist, I see it’s just after nine.

  Me: Same. You feel okay about coming to my place?

  I know she flat shares, and maybe it’s a bit presumptuous, me asking her here, but if she’s not comfortable, I’ll happily go to her if she’d prefer.

  Charlotte: That works. Send me your address. But be warned, Violet will also have it, in case you kidnap me.

  I probably shouldn’t laugh at that because the truth is, how well do we know someone? I’m glad she’s taken the precaution but also sad that she even has to in this day and age. My mum raised us to respect women––she drove home the importance of consent and being respectful.

  Sending Charlotte my address, I save my work and shut down my computer. Leaning back in my chair, I stretch my arms and get a whiff of myself and cringe.

  Pulling out some clean clothes, I jump in the shower and make quick work of getting dressed. Once I’m done, I take a quick look around my room and shove my dirty clothes into my linen bin. The last thing I want is to have dirty underwear lying around. I mean, I’m no slob, but I also haven’t been here that long, and things still need organising. I suddenly feel self-conscious over the fact I still have unpacked boxes throughout the house, but fuck it, it is what it is. And I realise that I’m a nervous kind of excited for the first time in a long time, and it’s hard not to smile at the fact.

  The doorbell alerts me to her arrival and I take a quick breath and run my fingers through my damp hair.

  “Hey,” I say when I pull open the door, pleased my voice doesn’t give away my nerves.

  “Hey, yourself,” she says, her hands gripping her bag, but I notice the slight tremble in her fingers, which shows me that I’m not alone.

  I try not to look her up and down, but it’s impossible. She’s stunning.

  “Come in,” I say, waving her to come in and stepping aside.

  “Nice place,” she says, walking ahead of me and into the living room.

  I nod and watch as she takes stock of the place.

  “Thanks, it’s still a work in progress. I’ve not long moved in,” I reply and signal towards the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink?”

  She follows me, and when I turn to look at her, she’s biting her bottom lip, and fuck me if it doesn’t send a reaction straight to my dick.

  “I shouldn’t. I still have to drive home.”

  I shake my head. “Well, if you were expecting a wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, you’re sorely mistaken,” I say, crossing my arms and leaning back against the counter.

  “Oh, someone’s sure of himself,” she says, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

  “Just being honest,” I reply with a shrug.

  She laughs, and the sound is soothing.

  “So, how about that drink?” I ask, reaching into the fridge and pulling out the bottle of Prosecco my mum gave me when I moved in.

  “Yeah, why not. Have you been doing undercover surveillance?” she asks.

  I remove the foil and pop the cork. “No, why?”

  “It’s my favourite,” she admits, nodding to the bottle in my hand as I reach for two wine glasses and pour us each a glass.

  “It was a housewarming gift from my mum,” I say, handing a glass to her and clinking them together in cheers.

  “Well, she has good taste,” she says before taking a small sip.

  Her cheeks heat. It’s one thing hiding behind a screen and texting back and forth, but it’s another when she’s here in my space, looking as beautiful as the first time we met.

  “So, how has work been?” I ask in an attempt to make this all seem a little less like a booty call.

  “It’s been... listen, we don’t need to that,” she says, unable to make eye contact, and that’s when I see her confidence slip.

  I put my drink down and walk towards her. “No, we don’t if you don’t want to. But so that you know, talking is never off the table.”

  “Duly noted,” she replies, and damn if those words don’t act like a trigger.

  “Want to see my room?” I ask, sounding like a kid and reaching for her hand, lacing our fingers together.

  She nods, and I gently pull her along with me and up the stairs.

  “When did you move in?” she asks, passing a stack of boxes.

  I shrug. “A few weeks ago, please don’t judge my lack of unpacking,” I say, pushing open my bedroom door.

  “Never, but you are way more chilled than me. I had my flat unpacked in a day,” she says, almost embarrassed.

  Turning in a slow circle, she takes in my room. Apart from a king-size bed, two bedside tables and a walk-in wardrobe, it’s pretty sparse––except for the boxes over in the corner and along the wall.

  “Very nice. So this is
where the magic happens?” she asks, eyeing my bed.

  I laugh. “Not yet, but you can help me remedy that.”

  She finishes her wine and I take the empty glass, setting it down.

  “Unless you’ve changed your mind and want to back out?” I say, holding up my hands. “No pressure.”

  “Nope, I’m still game,” she says, her eyes working down the length of my sweatpants. “Is there a special kind of club called hot grey joggers society?” she asks.

  I cock a brow. “Huh, I have no idea.”

  “Shame, because if there was, you should most definitely join,” she says playfully.

  Grabbing her by the waist, I pull her closer to my body. “I’d rather be doing something else,” I whisper in her ear, which causes her to shiver.

  I run my finger over the pulse in her throat and continue a path across her clavicle, enjoying the way her breathing picks up from my touch. Her skin pebbles with goosebumps. I’m glad to see her response to me was not a one-time thing.

  “Speaking of clothes, you’re wearing too many,” I say, flicking my eyes down the length of her.

  Her soft chuckle vibrates right through me as she takes a small step back and begins to circle me until she’s pressed against my back.

  “Yes, you are,” she whispers and grips the hem of my T-shirt, drawing it up and over my head and tossing it aside.

  She plays with the hair on the nape of my neck, and then her soft wet lips kiss a trail down the length of my spine. Her hands trail around to my stomach and down my thighs as she squeezes before pulling my sweatpants down to my ankles.

  I suck in a breath when her hand reaches between my legs from behind, cupping my balls. My breathing speeds up and my heart beats faster with anticipation, and damn if I’m not ready to bury myself balls deep inside her. When she releases me, I turn on her and back her against the wall and drop to my knees. I drag the hem of her leggings down, and she steps free from them, leaving her in a pair of lacy black knickers. I lean in and inhale before placing an open-mouthed kiss over her clit, and she lets out a breath. Pulling her knickers down, I let them pool at her feet. She trembles when I lift one leg at a time, allowing her to step free.

  Kissing up the length of her legs, I spread them apart when I meet her core. Glancing up, I dart out my tongue, and her eyes focus intently on my trajectory. She grips my shoulders as I sweep over her clit and tease her folds. When I use my fingers to spread her open and slip in a finger, her eyes roll into the back of her head. I smile and work her with my mouth and my fingers. Her hands move to my hair, and she tugs and pulls. I hook her leg over my shoulder and fuck her with my mouth until she’s screaming out my name.

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlotte

  I almost blackout from the force of my orgasm. Ethan does not disappoint when it comes to pleasure, and I, for one, am here for everything he has to give.

  Barely able to stand on my wobbly legs, he leads me over to the partially made bed, pushing me back until I’m sitting down.

  “Raise your arms,” he says, his voice thick.

  He reaches for the hem of my top and begins to pull it up but pauses when it covers my eyes. My breathing comes out faster, my skin prickles, every nerve triggered when his lips trail a path over my stomach and ribs to the curve of my breast, and fuck me if this isn’t hot.

  When he frees me of my top, I blink and take him in as he removes his boxers, and damn if he doesn’t look bigger than the last time. How is that even possible? The head of his cock is enlarged, straining with beads of pre-cum. I lick my lips, desperate to taste him, and I move so I’m propped up on my elbows. His hand goes to the back of my bra, and with one quick flick, it comes undone.

  I drag it off, sling it to the floor, and his eyes darken with desire.

  “Still as beautiful as I remember,” he says, dipping his tongue into my belly button.

  I arch into him, desperate for him to be inside me so that I can rid this pent-up frustration from a gruelling few weeks at work. Plus, other than my battery-powered friend, I’ve had no action since him.

  “Do you have condoms?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  He crawls up the length of my body and digs around in the drawer of his bedside table. He waves a sealed box in the air, and I don’t know why, but the fact it’s a new box makes me smile. Winking, he tears it open and drops a couple to the mattress.

  “Just in case,” he says when he sees me staring.

  I reach out for his length and roll my thumb over the wet tip, and then suck the pad of my thumb into my mouth.

  Ethan rolls on top of me, his forearms on either side of my face, holding his weight off of me, his hard length pressed between us.

  I reach down and grip him at the base before I start to work him. He raises himself to give me more access, and then in one swift move, he’s on his back and I’m straddling him, which causes me to tense. Raising to my knees, I lift myself slightly as to not put my full weight on him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks and sits forward.

  “I don’t want to squash you,” I say.

  He quirks an eyebrow, his mouth forming in a straight line. “Are you serious right now?”

  I nod and go to move, but his fingers grip my hips, and he pulls me down.

  “Charlotte, you won’t, so whatever insecurities you have, let them go. I want you to ride my cock like I know you can.”

  Something about the way his eyes bore into mine make me want to do just that, so before I can get lost in my head, I reach for a condom, rip it open and sheath his hard length.

  I’m more than ready, and he made sure of that with his wicked tongue. I move onto my knees, his hands on my hips, and then I lower myself slowly until he fills me completely.

  We both sigh in unison. I give myself a few seconds to get used to his size again, then I roll my hips once, twice, three times, and when his eyes flutter closed and his lips are parted, I give myself over to the pleasure of being on top and begin to ride him.

  “Yes, Charlotte, fuck me, just like that,” he says.

  He thrusts upward, and it only spurs me on more. I lose myself to him until I start to slow, the sensations becoming too much. My breathing is heavy, and then he flips me onto my back, taking my breath away, and I know I’m on the verge of another release.

  Ethan continues his ministrations with vigour, the veins in his biceps straining, and if I wasn’t already a mess of lust and want, I sure as hell would be right about now. He is a human work of art with hard masculine lines. How this man is single is beyond me. But I don’t have long to ponder the thought as he hits my G-spot. A wave of intense pleasure takes me under as Ethan’s movements become almost out of control and he spasms, finding his own drawn-out release.

  His weight covers me, but only briefly, then he moves to his knees, pulls out gently, removes the condom––tying the end––and disappears in his bathroom to discard it, and then he’s back.

  “You were even better than I remembered,” he says breathless, falling back onto the bed.

  I let out a laugh. “Ditto.”

  Ethan reaches over and pulls me to his naked body. I tense but only out of surprise before I relax and cover his stomach with my arm.

  His fingers trail over my arm and we both lay quietly. My eyes are heavy, and I try not to succumb to his rhythmic breathing, but it’s impossible. Feeling sated, I close my eyes for a moment.

  I stir awake when I feel a kiss on my throat and remember where I am.

  “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I say, looking up into Ethan’s eyes.

  “Me neither. I was hoping we could have a repeat,” he says, the timbre of his voice rich and deep, and damn if it doesn’t send a wave of excitement straight to my core.

  I stretch. “What’s the time? How long were we out?” I ask and turn to his bedside table. “Do you not have an alarm clock?” I question, and then wonder if he’s like Shaun––who uses his phone for practically everythin
g.

  “I do, but it’s still in one of those boxes,” he says, nodding towards the corner of the room.

  Sitting up, I search the floor and reach over the edge of the bed and then slip on his T-shirt.

  I hold up my finger. “Let me just use the toilet and then we’ll continue this conversation,” I say as I leave him lying naked and gorgeous as hell.

  After I empty my bladder, I appraise myself in the mirror. I look well and truly fucked. And it feels fantastic. Is this all a girl really needs? A friend with benefits? Why didn’t I do this sooner? There’s something about the way I come alive and lose myself at the same time when he’s buried deep inside me, and I can’t get enough.

  Ethan’s pulled on his joggers––sans his boxer briefs. It’s hard to ignore when my eyes go straight to his dick and fuck me if it doesn’t give me a lady boner. I want to thank whoever designed such a sight, something so simple and yet so hot.

  He’s rummaging in a box and pulls out a clock, and I smile, taking it from him and asking where he wants it. He points to the right bedside table and I drop to my knees and plug it in.

  When I stand back up, I feel Ethan behind me. He reaches around, checks his phone, and then sets the clock with me caged between his arms. I’m surprised to see it’s a quarter past midnight. Damn, we really did doze off.

  Once he’s finished setting it up, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me back against his chest. I allow myself a brief moment to enjoy this kind of intimacy. He’s so tactile. Shaun was never into public displays of affection, and the other relationships I had never really lasted long enough to find out. Not that this is a relationship, but it would appear that Ethan must have some kind of magic penis that makes me do things I wouldn’t normally do. It’s strangely liberating.

  “Want me to help you get the rest of these boxes unpacked?” I ask, well aware of how random my question is. It’s not why I came here, but I have this obsessive need to have everything in its place. “And before you mock me, yes, I might be a little OCD. Let’s just say it’s the Monica in me.”