19. Ethan
19
ETHAN
T he bar’s neon sign flickers above the entrance, a beacon of temporary escape. I push through the door, craving the burn of whiskey more than I’d like to admit. The grueling practice still lingers in my muscles, a reminder of how fucked up things have gotten.
Inside, the low hum of conversation mixes with clinking glasses and the faint strum of a guitar from the jukebox. I head straight for the bar, ready to drown out thoughts of Liam and Noah and their bullshit, and a certain auburn haired girl that has seemed to crawl her way under my skin with just one PG 13 rated fucking kiss.
I head towards the back of the bar, intending on claiming my table in the far back, away from the crowd, nearly hidden away, like it like it.
Then I see her.
Olivia's sitting at a small table near the back, her auburn hair catching the dim light. She’s got that damn notebook open, scribbling away like she’s solving the world’s problems one sentence at a time.
I stride over before I can talk myself out of it. “You know the coffee shop is the usual scene for work, not a bar.”
She looks up, surprise flashing in those bright green eyes. “Ethan? Didn’t expect to see you here.”
She’s doesn't seem too thrilled to see me. The tension’s thicker than her perfect thighs in that short ass mini skirt she's wearing. I turn on my heel, not wanting to stay where I’m clearly not wanted. “Well, enjoy your night,” I mutter, already halfway to the exit.
“Ethan, wait.”
I stop, half-expecting her to tell me to keep walking. But when I look back, she’s standing, clutching her notebook like a lifeline.
“I’m sorry about the game,” she says, voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.
I shrug. “Not your fault.”
"Yeah right," she falls silent, staring at the table like it holds all the answers. Her shoulders slump, and for a second, she looks as lost as I feel sometimes. Damn it. This isn’t what I signed up for tonight.
I take a step back towards her table. “Mind if I sit?”
She nods slowly, almost reluctantly. “Sure.”
I drop into the chair across from her, leaning back with my arms crossed. “You know, beating yourself up over our shitty game isn’t gonna help anyone.”
“I just… feel responsible,” she admits, not meeting my eyes.
“Look, our performance tanking shouldn't ride on you,” I lean forward now, resting my elbows on the table. “We’re professionals. Grown ass men. We need to get our shit together regardless of what’s going on off the ice.”
Her gaze flickers up to meet mine briefly before dropping again. “But it feels like?—”
“It’s not,” I cut her off, more forcefully than intended. Her head snaps up at that, green eyes wide.
“It feels like everything’s falling apart because of me,” she whispers.
I lean across the table, my hand catching her chin. Her skin's warm beneath my fingers, softer than I expected. I tilt her head up, forcing her to meet my gaze.
“Olivia, don't blame yourself for this shit, alright?”
She doesn’t answer, her eyes darting away, and I tighten my grip just enough to bring her focus back to me.
“Hey,” I murmur, leaning in closer. “You could never be a problem. Especially not for me.”
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, and it twists something deep in my chest. Seeing her in pain, seeing her blame herself—it’s unbearable. Without thinking it through, I lean down and press my lips to hers.
For a heartbeat, she’s still, and I think I’ve made a mistake. Then she melts into the kiss, tentative at first but then with more certainty. As I pull back, her arms snake around my neck, pulling me closer. Her lips find mine again with an urgency that catches me off guard but spurs me on.
I cup the back of her head with one hand while the other grips the edge of the table for support. Her fingers tangle in my hair, and the sensation sends a jolt down my spine. The bar around us fades away; there’s only Olivia and this moment.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. She leans her forehead against mine, eyes closed as if she’s savoring the connection between us.
“Ethan,” she whispers, voice shaky but firm.
“Yeah?”
"Take me back to your place," Olivia says, her voice a mix of determination and vulnerability. "Make me forget it all for just a little bit."
“With pleasure.” I toss some cash on the table, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the exit. Her hand is small and warm in mine, and I can’t help but think about what it’ll feel like on other parts of me.
We step outside into the cool night air, and I lead her to my car. She hesitates, glancing back at her car in the parking lot.
“What if someone sees my car left here?” she asks, worry creasing her brow.
“I don’t fucking care,” I say, opening the passenger door for her. “Get in.”
The drive to my apartment is short but filled with thick, unspoken tension. Olivia sits with her hands clasped between her thighs, and I can’t help but hope she’s wet and ready for me. The thought sends a jolt of desire through me, making it hard to focus on the road.
When we finally pull up to my building, I park hastily and get out. Olivia follows suit, and I grab her hand again, leading her up the stairs two at a time. Her breath comes in quick pants behind me, mirroring my own anticipation.
We reach my door, and I fumble with the key for a moment before shoving it open. As soon as we’re inside, I slam the door shut behind us and press her back against it. The sound of our ragged breathing fills the small entryway.
I cup her face with one hand, tilting it up to meet my gaze. Her eyes are wide, pupils blown with desire.
“Ethan…” she starts, but I cut her off with a fierce kiss. Her lips are soft and yielding against mine, and she responds immediately, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I slide my hands down to her waist, lifting her slightly so our bodies align perfectly. She gasps into my mouth as I press harder against her.
“Forget everything,” I murmur against her lips. “Just focus on this.”
She nods frantically, pulling me closer as if afraid I might disappear if she lets go. My hands roam over her curves, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her clothes.
“Bedroom?” she whispers breathlessly.
I nod, lifting her into my arms as if she weighs nothing. She wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her down the hall to my room. The door slams shut behind us with a finality that makes my heart race even faster.
I strip off my shirt, tossing it aside without a second thought. Olivia's eyes widen as she bites her lip, her fingers tracing the tattoos and scars that mark my chest. Her touch is light, almost reverent.
"Did these hurt?" she asks softly, her fingertips lingering on a particularly jagged scar.
I smirk, shaking my head. "Nah. I like pain."
Her eyes darken with something I can’t quite place as she starts to unbutton my jeans. I let her, enjoying the way her hands tremble slightly with anticipation. When she finally pulls them down, my dick stands at attention, hard and ready.
Olivia takes a step back, her eyes raking over me from head to toe. She looks like she’s trying to memorize every detail.
“Like what you see?” I ask, unable to keep the amusement out of my voice.
She tilts her head, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “The bigger size cup rumor I heard definitely doesn't involve you.”
I laugh, genuinely amused. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“When I interviewed some of the guys,” she says, stepping closer again, “there was a rumor that some of them purchase bigger cups to make them look more endowed.”
I close the distance between us in one stride, pulling her shirt over her head in one smooth motion. “Not here, baby,” I murmur against her ear. “What you see is what you get.”
She shivers as I unclasp her bra, letting it fall to the floor before kissing down her neck and across her chest. Her skin is warm under my lips, and I can feel her heart racing beneath the surface.
“Ethan,” she breathes out, fingers tangling in my hair as I move lower.
I kiss along the curve of her breast, savoring the way she arches into me. Her hands are everywhere—on my shoulders, my back—pulling me closer as if afraid I'll disappear.
"As much as I love this little ass skirt, let's get it off of you." I unbutton it and it pools around her ankles. Leaving her in a barley there red thong.
"Fuck, Olivia. You have no idea what you do to me."
She smiles a salacious grin.
I pause for a moment, looking up at her. “You sure about this?”
Her eyes meet mine with a fierce intensity that makes my breath catch. “Yes,” she says simply.
That’s all I need to hear. In one swift motion, I lift her up and carry her to the bed, laying her down gently before climbing on top of her. She looks up at me with those bright green eyes full of trust and desire.
I kiss her again, slow and deep this time, letting myself get lost in the feel of her beneath me.
My fingers trail over her thong, feeling the dampness. I can't help but smirk. "Such a good girl, is that all for me?" I slide my fingers under the thin fabric, running them through her folds.
She nods, biting her lip, unable to form words. I don't give her a chance to catch her breath. In one swift motion, I rip the thong away, the sound of tearing fabric echoing in the room.
"I’ll buy you some new ones," I murmur against her skin, my voice low and rough.
Her breath hitches as I slide my fingers in between her legs, feeling how wet she is for me. I move my fingers in and out, building up a rhythm that has her moaning my name.
"Ethan," she gasps, arching her back.
I increase the pace, feeling her muscles tighten around my fingers. She's close, so close I can practically taste it. Just as she’s about to come undone, I withdraw my fingers and bring them to my mouth.
"Mmmm, tastes like fucking sin," I say with a grin.
She glares at me, clearly irritated. "You're such a jerk."
"Nice guys finish last, baby," I reply smoothly. "And I don’t like to lose."
I reach into the nightstand and grab a condom, putting it on with practiced ease. Her eyes follow my movements, a mix of anticipation and frustration in her gaze.
"Hold on," I tell her as I position myself at her entrance. "You're in for a wild ride."
With one powerful thrust, I bury myself inside her. She screams out my name, clutching at my shoulders as if she might fall apart if she lets go.
“Fuck,” I growl against her neck as I start to move. The tightness around me drives me wild, making it hard to keep control. But I do; this is about giving her what she needs—what we both need.
Her nails dig into my back as our bodies move together in perfect sync. Every thrust pulls another gasp or moan from her lips until all that fills the room is the sound of our names mingling with each other’s breathless cries.
She meets every movement with equal fervor, matching me thrust for thrust.
I lift her legs over my shoulders, setting a punishing pace. Each thrust is deliberate, relentless. She gasps, eyes rolling back.
“God, Olivia,” I growl, my voice thick with lust. “You’ve got the perfect pussy. No wonder you’ve got Liam and Noah so dumbfounded.”
Her eyes snap open, wide with surprise, but she’s too far gone to respond. She’s on the brink again, and I can feel her tightening around me. Just as she’s about to climax, I pull out abruptly, flipping us over in one smooth motion.
“Ethan, what the hell?” she asks, looking meek and shy.
“Ride me, Olivia,” I command, my voice low and rough. “Ride me like your fucking life depends on it.”
She positions herself over my dick and impales herself in one swift motion. Her face contorts in pleasure, her long hair falling over her shoulders like a curtain. She looks like a fucking vision, and it’s taking all my self-control not to come right then and there.
She moves with a desperate urgency, taking what she needs without hesitation. It’s a fucking turn-on watching her like this—uninhibited, powerful. My hands find her hips, guiding her rhythm as I thrust up to meet her movements.
I reach up to play with her voluptuous breasts, squeezing them just enough to make her gasp. Her eyes lock onto mine, a mix of need and challenge.
“I’m… I’m about to come,” she moans breathlessly.
“Let go,” I tell her firmly. “Take what you need, baby.”
Her body tenses for a split second before she shatters around me, crying out my name. The sight of her coming undone pushes me over the edge. The feel of her tightening around me sends me into oblivion.
We collapse together in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. Her head rests on my chest as we catch our breath.
“You okay?” I ask after a moment.
She nods against my chest but doesn’t say anything. Instead, she nuzzles closer, her breathing gradually evening out.
I stare at the ceiling for a moment, trying to process what just happened. This woman—this amazing woman—has somehow wormed her way into my life and under my skin in ways I didn’t think possible.
I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. For once in my life, I don’t feel the need to push someone away or keep my guard up. For now, this is enough.
For now, this is perfect.