Chapter 7
Biannca
Ethan. I still can’t quite believe it. And while we wander through the library, his hand on my lower back, I keep glancing up at him, trying to make sure he’s real.
He doesn’t leave me side, doesn’t take his hand off me at any moment. He’ll put his drink on a table to shake a hand instead of taking his hand from me.
Every so often, he’ll trail his fingertips along my spine, making me shudder. The way he kissed me earlier has left a lingering tingle on my lips and a heavy need between my thighs. I’d take him tearing out of here right now if I thought we could get away with it.
We do our part, make small talk, smile, shine a light on the library and all we do here. Ethan’s, of course, charming.
The thing I can’t tell if I’m imagining or if it’s really happening, is that despite Ethan never losing focus on the conversation, he’s continually making me hot and bothered.
Aside from the trail of his finger on my back, he’ll lower his hand to rest on my ass.
Not in a showy way, not in a way that would seem inappropriate, but definitely in a way he wants me to notice.
One time he leans across me to shake a hand, his arm brushing against my chest when it absolutely didn’t have to.
Every time he does something like this I look at him and nothing has changed and I wonder if I’m imagining that there’s any semblance of meaning behind his actions.
Until he wraps his arm around my waist, his hand sliding to just above the apex of my thighs. When my breath catches and I glance at him, the bastard doesn’t stop talking or smiling at the potential donor, but he does shoot a wink at me.
And dear God my panties all but incinerate. I also nearly choke on the sip of my drink that I just took.
Spluttering and tapping my chest, I excuse myself. “So sorry, wrong pipe. I’ll be right back.”
Though he tries to keep me by his side, I’m able to extricate myself from Ethan’s hold.
A chill runs through me at the sudden loss of heat against me.
Still fighting the tickle in my throat, I opt to go to the staff bathroom.
Not only do I have access, but it means I may not encounter anyone else while I get at a grip on myself.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I don’t look like the sex crazed person I feel like. Everything about me looks…normal. How it always does aside from the extra makeup.
But my insides are rolling. Revolting. Screaming in need and desperation for Ethan. Can he feel it? Is he just toying with me? Or is it some form of extended foreplay?
Gripping the sink, I lean toward the mirror. “You can do this. It may be everything you’ve wanted for eons, but hold it together.”
The pep talk just makes me feel foolish.
I square my shoulders, adjust the flower in my hair and nod at myself. I’ve got this. I think.
Any confidence I built up goes up in smoke when I walk out of the bathroom and find Ethan leaning against the entryway to the small hallway where the bathrooms are. His legs are crossed at the ankles, one hand in his pocket, while the other twirls the rose we effectively crushed.
“You okay?” The deep rasp of his voice has me clenching my thighs. Dear God, does he realize how fucking sexy he is? How could he possibly think he’s out of my league? If anything, it’s the other way around.
“Um, yeah. I just wanted to—” I’m cut off by his lips slamming against mine as his hands cup my face and he presses me against the wall.
When he pulls away I’m breathless. It doesn’t help that he stays a mere inch from me and that his eyes hold nothing but desire.
“You didn’t have to come find me.”
“I didn’t want to be away from you longer than necessary. Besides, I’ve been looking for a way to put my hands on you all night.”
“Um, you have had your hands on me all night.”
One corner of his mouth pulls up. “Not like I want to right now.”
I try to keep some semblance of self control, to preserve some slight bit of not seeming like a complete fool. But I fail as I collapse into him and have trouble keeping the moan down.
I’m so totally undone by this man.