40. Ethan
ETHAN
By the time I get to the arena, I taste acid on my tongue, my stomach in knots, as if a snake is slithering inside.
Briefly, I worry I may have food poisoning. Doubt it. I didn’t eat more than a few bites this morning. Maybe it’s a stroke or a heart attack. There’s no other rational explanation for feeling like death pissed in my veins.
It’s impossible to concentrate on getting ready for the game. I can’t think about anything other than how I let my fear and jealousy control me. I lost my head for five fucking seconds, ran my mouth as I always do when I’m in a panic, and now, I’m going to pay for it.
I tap my pen on my desk and rack my brain.
Aurora would forgive Jax immediately, but that’s not how she and I operate. We verbally spar.
And then, it hits me.
She doesn’t want another Jackson, you idiot. No one could put up with two jealous hotheads. What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to stop focusing on their relationship and consider the dynamics of all of us.
I reach for my phone, the compulsion for her stronger than my pride and this apparent stroke I’m having, and text Jax to bring me our girl.
He responds with a saluting emoji, no sarcastic remark, filling me further with dread.
I have two offices in this building. Today, I’m working within the locker rooms, and I sense Jackson’s presence when the lull of conversation among training staff comes to a halt.
“Hey, man!” I hear Grant call out. “What are you doing here?”
Grant is the first player to arrive each day. Today, he’s the only one here. I swear, he’s a lost puppy without Jax.
I glance up from the financial sheets I’ve been absentmindedly examining, and my heart skips a beat when Aurora appears. She’s wearing an oversized sweater thing that shows off her bare, tanned thighs and her favorite Converse.
“Coach is in a mood,” says my captain, a smug smile plastered on his face. “Got into a fight with his girlfriend and has me playing wingman.”
Aurora slaps his stomach, and he laughs.
“I’ll be right back.” He kisses her forehead. “You know where he is if you want to see him.”
By him , he means me.
Jackson gives Grant a nod toward the door, and he juts his chin in understanding.
Our girl hesitates, her gaze following her boyfriend, and for a moment, I think she’s going to leave with him.
“Aurora, my favorite team wife.” Grant wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in for a hug, distracting her.
“I’m not a wife.” She shoves playfully at his chest.
“Semantics,” he teases. “Can I touch our next superstar?”
He hovers over her belly, and irritation boils in my veins.
“No, you cannot,” I yell out. “Not unless you’d like to be benched.”
He retracts his hand. “Is he being serious?” he pretends to whisper. “Doesn’t he know you belong to the team?”
She belongs to Jackson and me. That’s it. Period. “Aurora,” I growl, losing my patience. “Get in here.”
Grant follows her in and sits on my couch. She pauses then moves to sit next to him.
“No.” I reach out and grab her wrist. “You come here. Grant, get out of my office.”
He ignores me and chuckles. “You might be worse than Jackson.”
I pay him no attention and guide her between my legs. Intertwining our fingers, I hold her arms out and scan her stunning figure. “What are you wearing?”
“A sweater dress. I’m changing things up today, since I’ve been in nothing but team hoodies for the past few days. Not a fan?”
“I love it. It’s a little...” I tilt my head to glimpse her barely-covered ass. “Short.”
“That’s because your son is making my stomach grow.”
I don’t know what that has to do with the length of her dress, but I’m fond of hearing her talk about what’s mine. “Good.”
“This is so fucking weird,” Grant mutters, amusement lacing his tone.
I skewer him with my best glare. “Unless you want to be traded, get out and shut my door.”
He leaves with a shit-eating grin, and Aurora settles herself on my desk.
I lean in and kiss her rounded stomach. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
I go to run my palms up her thighs, but she halts my progress, weaving our fingers together.
Her gaze remains on our hands, her shoulders slumped. “It’s okay. This is too much for you. I get it. I understand. You have work, and I’m a mess,” she rambles anxiously. “I thought a lot about what you said.”
I caress her belly, hoping to feel the baby move again. “And what did you think?”
“That you and I... We don’t have to do this right now.”
Typical Aurora. She’ll give me up for my own benefit. It’s not that she’s choosing Jackson. She’s choosing my freedom—for me.
“And by this, you mean us?”
She nods.
“I was being jealous, baby. I was angry and jealous you always protect Jax. I knew what I was getting into, knew you loved him, but you volunteering to risk yourself pushed all my buttons. I was being possessive, that’s all.”
“You said we’d discuss us when this is all said and done.” She repeats my words nearly verbatim, still refusing to look at me. “Did you mean our relationship? As parents? Or custody…”
I tilt her chin and force her gaze to meet mine. “Stop. You’re overthinking. I was wrong and you knew it. You called me out on my bullshit, as you have every time since the day we met, and that’s why I love you.”
She stares at me until I realize…
“Oh, shit. I haven’t said that out loud yet, have I?”
Her lips break into a soft smile, and she shakes her head.
“Well, fuck.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “That wasn’t exactly how I wanted to tell you…and not…” Jesus, I messed this up, and now I’m the one panicking unreasonably. “…while…” I exhale sharply.
“While we’re breaking up?” she incorrectly finishes for me.
I scoff. “We are not breaking up.”
“Or broke up, whatever,” she mumbles and attempts to hop off my desk.
I grip her thighs. “Let me explain. Sit.”
A spark ignites in her narrowed eyes. “I’m not a dog, Blackwood. I’m not at your beck and call, and I told you before, I’m not playing house until marriage material comes back around for you. Now, answer my question.”
I stand between her legs and coil her ponytail in my fist. “I’ve had enough of your smart mouth today.”
“Then answer my question. What did you mean? Did you mean a relationship?—”
I tug her hair until she’s forced to fall back onto her elbows with me leaning over her. Luckily, all I have are papers on this desk, and I don’t mind if these print sheets smell like pussy. It’s much better than despair.
“I meant, when you return to LA and everything is settled down, I’m going to teach you who’s in control here. I should’ve bent you over my knee instead of arguing with you. It would’ve saved me some time.”
Aurora
Ethan releases my hair and grips my thighs, and there’s no question where this is leading.
He spreads my legs wider and hauls me toward him. The action slides the hem of my dress up, exposing my black lace thong to his gaze.
He draws his thumb over the gusset. “You’re already wet, baby.”
Wasting no time, he roughly stretches the material to the side. His expression turns intense, and his eyes darken. “Is this for me, or did you let him fuck you again?”
I don’t argue or hesitate, but I do sass him. Call me petty. “Someone had to make me feel better.”
“Is that so?” He hastily undoes his belt and pants.
My desire amplifies at the clink of his buckle, as if some Pavlovian response. He falls over me, his weight on his forearm, and aligns himself at my entrance. “Wrap your legs around me.”
I do, because this is Ethan, and although we’re in his office, I might not walk out of here straight.
Then comes a gravelly, “I’m going to fuck the attitude right out of you,” my only warning before he punches his hips and fills me to the brim.
A high-pitched moan slips past my lips, and he swiftly covers my mouth with his palm.
“Tell him thanks for the lube,” he whispers next to my ear and slams into me.
I whimper beneath his hand and rock my hips, meeting his thrusts.
He does as he promised, fucking me hard and deep, his dirty words driving me to oblivion.“Who do you belong to, Aurora?” He moves his hand from my mouth to clasp my throat.
“You,” I pant.
He continues his merciless pace. “Whose baby are you having?”
“Yours,” I automatically respond.
“Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours.”
“Who’s in charge here?”
“You.”
He pounds into me, his desk scraping against the floor. “Repeat that.”
“You.” My heart beats a frantic rhythm between arousal and the fear of being caught. “You’re in charge.”
His grip on my throat tightens. “You’re mine. You will always be mine. Don’t ever come to me trying to end things, understand?”
“Yes,” I moan, each of his rumbled threats bringing me closer to the edge.
“The next time you’re fucking him, think about me fucking your ass at the same time.”
I’m so close, every dirty word from his mouth a heady rush.
“You like that, baby girl? You like the thought of both of us filling you?”
My legs tremble, and my neck arches.
“Answer me,” he growls, low and menacing.
I squeeze around him. “Yes,” I cry. “Please, E—I’m going to come.”
“That’s my good fucking girl,” he punctuates with a hard thrust. “We’re going to have you dripping from every hole.”
Oh my God , I can’t take it any longer. I fist his shirt, and I lose all thought, biting my lip to stop from releasing a string of cries that will make it obvious to anyone what we’re doing.
“Fuck, baby, strangle my cock... Such a perfect fucking pussy.”
His strokes become erratic. He bites into my collarbone with one last slam of his hips and pulses inside me.
The sound of someone beating on the door filters through our panting breaths.
“That’s your boyfriend.” He playfully slaps my ass, pulls out, and fixes my thong.
I rise to my feet on unsteady legs and adjust my dress while he puts himself away and buckles his pants.
“I love you.” He places a tender kiss on my forehead.
“I respect your relationship with Jax. You can do anything you want with him, or for him—unless it puts you in danger. Your safety is my top priority, above all else.” He tilts my chin to kiss my lips.
“Stop with the marriage shit. I’m not looking to get married ever again. ”
Well, okay, then.