12. Ethan
Chapter 12
Ethan
I might have been broken, but I had nothing on this damn Ferrari.
I had always dreamed of restoring a Spyder. I’d bought this one in seriously crappy condition. Rust. Moldy upholstery. An engine that barely started and conked out any time I tried to get her up and out of third. There was joy in making her over. A painstaking restoration. Seeing her come back to life.
I’d deep-cleaned the engine and replaced most of the parts. I’d stripped out the old leather and put in an order for new. I’d smoothed out the bodywork, and given it a cherry-red finish. The fucking pinstriping was supposed to be the finishing touch. The cherry on the already cherry-red cake. And you know what? I’d almost decided not to do it. Didn’t want to gild the lily.
Little did I know that tiny decision would end up costing me so much time.
I was furious. Devastated. Absolutely raging.
Or at least, that’s how I wanted to feel.
Not least because I had been about to sell the damn thing and buy Ava the vacation of her dreams.
But the truth was, if Lily hadn’t come crashing into the garage, she wouldn’t have become Ava’s nanny, and we wouldn’t have kissed. I wouldn’t have had this sensitive, sexy woman in my life. I would have just continued buying macchiatos from the world’s loveliest bookseller with a hungry look in my eyes.
Now, she lived with me. I had seen her naked. I had touched her silky-smooth skin and assured her of my sexual prowess.
It made me mad that I couldn’t be mad. Instead, I was left feeling like a lovestruck teenager, raging about the hormones that had free rein over my emotions.
Gilding the lily.
I really wanted to gild Lily. So badly. To smooth out her fucking bodywork. To paint long stripes along her perfect curves.
Okay, Ethan, you have officially gone off the deep end.
Grease smudged my cheek as I wiped sweat from my brow, trying to put thoughts of Lily out of my head as I lost myself in work. I was carefully hammering out small dents on the hood in the—probably deluded—hope that I wouldn’t have to stump up yet more cash for quite so many replacement parts. It wasn’t even the money that was the issue. I’d gotten a payout from my insurance company. It covered well over half of the expenses the crash had cost me. Problem was the rarity of the pieces I needed, the irritating bartering over price, and the long waits for delivery.
Plus, I still had the Vladmobile to sort out. The damn thing had been sitting in the corner of my garage hidden under a tarp. It was so badly mangled that I had to cover it up; having a wreck like that on display wasn’t exactly good for business. And besides, it was so ugly and so . . . Vlad . . . that I couldn’t stand to look at it.
Still, in spite of all the jobs piling up around me, it was good to be in the garage. Training had been full-on recently—a lot more physically demanding than I’d been expecting, too. Strength wasn’t my issue. I did plenty of calisthenics—push-ups, crunches, burpees, and so on—at home, and I worked out with Cole at his place once or twice a week.
The cardio, though, was insane. By the end of the average training session at the yard, I’d be puffing and wheezing like an out-of-shape bison.
It had crossed my mind, more than once, that it was a good thing Lily and I hadn’t slept together because I genuinely might not be able to keep up with her. I was like a badly done-up car—just about passable on the outside, but with an engine like a hamster on a wheel.
Damn. There I went again. Thinking about having sex with Lily.
I felt like I needed to talk to someone about it. I had nobody to confide in. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t get these circling thoughts out of my head. But who could I talk to? Jack was . . . well, he was too busy being Jack. Ida would probably be overprotective of Lily and tell me to shut down all my perverted old-man thoughts immediately. And then there was Cole.
If Cole knew, he would laugh so hard at me. I’d ribbed him mercilessly about Elara before they got together—even bet him that he’d fall for her. Still, maybe I had to bite the bullet. Talk this thing out. Put it out of my head once and for all.
Because no matter how many times I repeated the million reasons why sleeping with Lily Lane would be a disaster, I still wanted to do it.
An approaching figure jolted me out of my brooding. Tall, willowy, red-haired.
Well, shit.
Lily strode towards me, a flowy green skirt swishing around her long legs. My pulse kicked up a notch.
She halted in front of me, hands on her hips. Her white blouse was cut low and I could see the soft curve of her chest. Fuck.
“Lily. I thought you were at work today.”
“I was. It’s fine. Work’s good. Sold some books. No macchiatos yet, but. . . .” She fluttered her eyelashes at me. Seriously. She fluttered them.
“Been busy,” I grunted. “So, what’s this about?”
She took a deep breath. “I have an idea. A proposition for you.” She handed me a cup. “And there’s your coffee, by the way.” She handed me a cup and I took it, bemused.
“Another proposition?” I took a sip of the coffee. It wasn’t the sort she usually made me. It was black and strong. The kind of coffee a girl gives a guy when she wants him to be up all night.
“Ethan, there’s something going on between us. I feel it. You feel it.” She stepped a little closer and pulled a sheet of paper from a pocket on her skirt. Damn. How deep were those pockets? She really was Mary Poppins.
“I thought we talked about this.”
“We did. But I can’t stop thinking about it. About us.” For just a moment, her bright white teeth bit her petal-pink lips. “Are you the same?”
My breath caught in my throat. “I think about you, too. From time to time.”
“I want us to have a physical relationship. No strings attached. I want to get you out of my system, Ethan. I need it. I need you to, uh, destroy me.”
My heart pounded, making my ribcage feel like it was being thumped by a jackhammer.
“You think that’s how it works? You fuck someone and get them out of your system?”
“Maybe. Maybe we’d have to do it more than once.”
“So, your proposal is that we fuck? That’s what’s written on your sheet of paper? One or two times in the sack and then we’re over each other?” Once again, I could feel my hard-on returning. For fuck’s sake.
“Not exactly.” A wry smile twisted her lips. “As a romance expert, I’ve seen the ways that casual flings go wrong in books. People make the same silly mistakes over and over. And, inevitably, they end up falling for each other against their will. And when that happens, as you know, that’s when things get dangerous.” She held up the sheet of paper. “I have something here that guarantees that’s not going to happen with us.”
“You’ve got the cure for developing feelings on that piece of paper, have you?” I wiped my greasy hand on my jeans.
“Cure? I’ve got the fricking vaccine.”
***
“Well,” I whistled, running a hand through my tousled hair, “you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
I studied the piece of paper, which Lily had dramatically unfurled across the hood of my Ferrari. It contained an exhaustive list of all the things we absolutely must not do to ensure we didn’t succumb to the inevitable pull of true love.
“Elara helped,” Lily said, a mischievous glint in her sapphire eyes.
“Wait—Elara knows?”
“How am I meant to not tell my best friend that we kissed, Ethan? You told Cole, right?”
“Well, no.” I scratched my head.
“You didn’t? That’s a mistake. People in romance novels who try to keep things like this secret are 23 percent more likely to fall in love.”
“Seriously? You’ve done the math?”
She laughed, then flashed me a stupidly gorgeous smile. “I made it up. But it sounds about right, doesn’t it?”
I started to read through the list. “We must not get caught in the rain together. We must not exchange heated glances across a crowded room. We must not give meaningful or sentimental gifts.” I paused for a moment. I paused, a smirk playing on my lips. “Does that mean thoughtless gifts are okay?”
“Just keep reading, Mister Lawyer.”
“We must not share personal secrets or vulnerabilities. We must not slow dance with each other.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You realize this is a little strange, right? Wait, what’s this one—we must not nurse each other back to health during an illness or injury?”
“It’s very romantic to look after someone,” she said with a shrug that did interesting things to her silk blouse. “Sticking thermometers in private places. Wiping sweat from one another’s brow.” Her eyes darkened with desire, and I felt the temperature rise several degrees. “Putting our heads against one another’s bare chests to check for a heartbeat.”
I swallowed, my throat as dry as the Sahara, my heart definitely beating. “We must not have a ‘trapped together’ scenario like being stuck in an elevator or car. We must not have a ‘fake dating’ or ‘pretend couple’ scenario. We must not have deep, meaningful conversations late at night. Especially not on the porch.”
Lily tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I really am a genius.”
“We must not attend weddings or romantic events together as each other’s plus one. What about Elara and Cole’s wedding?”
“Easy—we just go separately and don’t talk to each other during the event.”
“What if we have to? What if there’s confusion about canapés and I have to ask you politely not to eat the final tiny taco?”
“I don’t think that counts as being each other’s plus one.”
“We must not have sex two days in a row. We must not message after sex, referencing the sex act. We must not have physically intimate, non-sexual moments like brushing hands or touching each other’s faces. Not even one touch.” The words “one touch” were underlined so aggressively the pen had nearly torn through the paper.
“Touching is very powerful,” she said, her breathing suddenly heavy, her chest rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm.
“Is it?”
“Mmhmm. An innocent touch can lead to so much more.”
I forced my gaze back down at the sheet of paper. “We must not have extended eye contact or lingering glances. That’s a bit vague. What’s a lingering glance?”
“Longer than five seconds.”
I laughed. “Got it. I’ll mentally count to five every time I look at you from now on.” I got back to the list.
“We must not have any misunderstandings that could be cleared up with a simple conversation. We must not dramatically run to declare our love at an airport, train station, or under someone’s window with a boombox.”
“Classic,” Lily murmured.
“We must not share an unexpected kiss during an argument. We must not have a karaoke scene where one of us dedicates a romantic song to the other. We must not go on any road trips together or share a vacation home. We must not have an "only one bed" situation at any point.”
Lily’s cheeks flushed slightly. “That last one is crucial. Nothing says ‘inevitable romance’ like an unexpected bedsharing scenario. And by the way, no sleeping in the same bed either. Sex, yes. Sleeping, no.”
I raised an eyebrow but continued. “We must not rescue each other from boring dates or uncomfortable social situations. We must not have any ‘love epiphanies’ while talking to wise elderly relatives or precocious children. We must not engage in any playful competitions or bets that could lead to romantic tension.”
“Oh, and add this,” Lily said, leaning closer to scribble on the paper. Her perfume, an intoxicating mix of strawberry, vanilla, and something uniquely her, wafted over me. “We must not have any ‘magical’ first snow moments or New Year’s Eve kisses.”
I nodded, trying to ignore how my heart raced at her proximity. “Good call. Oh, and how about: We must not have any grand romantic gestures, especially involving flash mobs, skywriting, or elaborate scavenger hunts.”
Lily’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Perfect. This list is foolproof. There’s absolutely no way we could fall in love now.”
As our eyes met, I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps we’d already broken the most important rule of all—never make a list of rules you’re secretly hoping to break.
“So,” said Lily. “Thoughts?”
I swallowed, my head spinning. “It’s . . . exhaustive.”
“Thank you.”
Was there any way, in a million years, that a list like this could actually work? If we avoided all these mistakes, was it possible that we could have a casual relationship without taking it to the next level? Was this a guarantee that neither of us would get hurt?
I severely doubted it would protect me , but if it protected Lily, then that was half the battle, right? And if it meant we got to indulge in some no-strings sex. . . .
Fuck, my brain was saying no but my body was screaming yes.
I drained the rest of the coffee, feeling the buzz of caffeine flying through my veins. “If we do this,” I said, slowly, tossing the empty cup into the wastepaper bin, “we can’t tell Ava.”
“Of course. There would be nothing to tell. It’s going to be just physical. Read the last rule.”
“We must never, ever, under any circumstances, say ‘I love you,’” I read. “Seems sensible.”
“This way,” she said, moving closer, “the only way either of us gets hurt is when you spank me.”
“So, do I get to spank you if you break the rules?”
She was right next to me, so close I could smell her. That strawberry scent was so fucking intoxicating. How was I meant to think straight about all this?
Lily leaned into me, so close that her lips almost brushed my ear as she said, “You can spank me whenever you like.”
I released a shaky exhale. I couldn’t think straight. Lily was everything. Right there for the taking. All I could see were her eyes. All I could hear was her breath. All I could taste was. . . .
I crushed my lips to hers, cutting free, letting my desire take control.
She let out a whimper of surprise as our tongues met.
Hot damn. She tasted like liquid gold—rich, sweet, and so utterly addictive I knew I’d never get enough. Her tongue danced with mine, tasting me as I tasted her. I was overcome with a need to get in deep as I could and never come out. As my hands encircled her, I felt her body relax into my grip as she yielded to me. I ground myself against her, wanting the lines between our bodies to disappear.
Then, I snapped back to my senses.
“The door,” I said, feeling drunk with the sensation. “I have to close the garage door.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, her chest rising and falling with deep, ragged breaths, “I’ll wait for you.”
She was lying.
I pulled down the heavy metal door and quickly washed my hands at the sink. When I spun around, I saw that she hadn’t waited. Lily Lane lay—naked except for pale blue strapless bra and panties—on the dented hood of the Ferrari she’d nearly destroyed just a few weeks ago.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I growled. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I wasn’t exaggerating. Looking at her made me almost feel guilty because of how much I wanted her.
I was standing in front of her in an instant, holding her milky thighs in my rough hands and gently prying them apart. “You make me feel like a bad man, Lily.”
“Maybe you are bad.”
I bent down and kissed her bare thigh, taking a moment to admire the red freckles dotting her skin. “Maybe I am.” I dug my fingers into her pliant flesh and she moaned gently. “In a moment, this bad man is going to take off your bra and panties. Then he’s going to make you come so hard that you beg him for more. And finally, this bad, bad man is going to fuck you so fucking hard that you forget how to walk.”
I’d been waiting so long for this. Years.
I took her hands in mine then pulled her up to a sitting position, unclasping her bra with surprising ease, as though it hadn’t been years since I’d done such a thing. Then I threw the bra across my garage, watching it land on a rusty carburetor over in the corner.
Damn, her breasts were glorious. So full and smooth, her nipples the exact same shade of pink as her mouth. I bent down and took one of them in my mouth, biting gently on it and feeling it pebble between my teeth. Then I stood up again.
“Lie down,” I ordered. “Put your legs together.”
Smiling coyly, she did as I asked.
I slipped my fingers under the elastic of her panties and locked eyes with her. Then, I yanked her panties down, letting them fall to the floor.
“One, two, three, four, five,” I counted, then snapped my eyes away from hers, staring down at the short red tendrils of hair covering her pussy.
Goddamn, she looked good.
“Legs apart again,” I commanded.
She obeyed. Holy fuck. I could see everything.
“Is there any part of you that isn’t fucking perfect?” I asked.
“I have a naughty mouth,” she replied.
“Do you now?”
“Mmhmm.”
I reached down, tugged off my t-shirt, and dumped it on the ground. Lily’s eyes widened when she saw my torso.
“I was right,” she murmured. “You are much more muscly than Vlad.”
“Vlad’s a fucking imbecile,” I growled. “I’m the real deal, Lily.”
She reached up, tracing the lines of my muscles with her soft fingers, a small smile playing on her parted lips. “I guess you are,” she whispered, her eyes slowly traveling down my body.
I licked my lips, then splayed out my hand on her stomach. Slowly, I trailed it farther south, then slid it purposefully between her legs. She lay back down on the hood, looking so fucking beautiful that it took everything in me not to take her then and there.
The first time I touched her soft, wet lips, she let out a soft moan. Her eyes fluttered shut, her head tilted back. She was velvet-soft. I gently ran my fingertips up and down her entrance, teasing her, grazing the sensitive nub of her clit, before smoothly, confidently slipping a thumb into her.
“Oh, my,” she moaned. Her legs trembled as I dipped my thumb in her wetness, then rubbed her slickness over her clit.
My cock strained against my pants.
“I want to taste you,” I said, leaning over, kissing the smooth plane of her stomach. I felt her fingers twist into my hair as I moved down, tracing her freckles, kissing her tight skin, marking her with each and every touch.
When I reached her pussy, I heard her breath hitch. Her hand tightened in my hair. Dew spilled from her as I kissed her longer, harder, finding her hard little clit and taking it into my mouth before slipping my tongue over it, making her ass grind down into the smooth surface of the car hood.
“Fuck, Ethan, please, more.” Each word was a stab of lust. Each word was making me harder, hungrier.
I pushed my tongue inside her, gripped hold of her hips, and pulled her body down so that she was right on the edge of the bonnet. “You taste of honey everywhere ,” I growled. “How do you do it, girl?”
For a crazy moment, I couldn’t help but wonder how many men had tasted her before me. How any of them had ever been foolish enough to let her go. I wanted to be the best for her. Then, a dangerous thought: I didn’t just want to be the best. I wanted to be the last. I wanted to make her forget all the others and leave a mark that would last her a lifetime.
“Don’t stop,” she said, her voice so fucking sexy I could barely handle it.
I worshipped her with my mouth. I slid my tongue up and down her slit, tasting her folds, making her moan with pleasure. I went back to her clit, licking it, sucking it, teasing it.
Her breath came in shallow gasps and her hips bucked involuntarily against my face. Her hands gripped my hair so tightly it sent shards of pain across my scalp.
But I didn’t pull away—I wanted to feel every single sensation.
I never wanted to forget this.
I brought my hands up and grabbed her plump ass, lifting her hips up and pressing my face deeper into her. I flicked my tongue rhythmically over her clit, harder, faster, until she was writhing and moaning, nails digging into my skin, spine arching. I could feel her climax getting closer and I wanted to take her over the edge.
“Come for me,” I groaned against her pussy. “Give it to me, Lily.”
“Oh god,” she panted, her voice strained, the pitch rising.
“Not God,” I said slyly, “just me. Only me.”
And then, just like that, she exploded, her hips jerking, her body shaking, her cry of release echoing off all the metalwork around us. I could feel her pussy spasming around my mouth, her juices gushing, and it turned me on so damn much, I thought for a hot second I might just come along with her.
Thank fuck I didn’t.
I unbuckled my belt and let my pants fall to the floor. And then, a terrible thought hit me.
“Fuck. No condom.”
“Wrong,” she murmured, her speech slurred. “In . . . my skirt.”
“Smart move,” I said, grabbing the garment and raiding its deep pocket. I found the condom, ripped open the packet, and rolled it on, then I let my heavy cock rest against her center. Even through the condom, I could feel her slickness. Her arousal. “Fuck, Lily,” I panted. “You’re so wet.”
“You did it to me,” she panted. “You made me so fucking wet.”
“I love it when you cuss,” I said, sliding my length up and down her slit, letting my girth split her lips gently apart. “That dirty mouth drives me wild.”
For a moment, it looked like she was fighting a smile, then she just let go, and a wide grin made her face light up like sunshine. “Do you know how hard you just made me come?” she asked, as I rested the swollen tip of my cock against her entrance.
“Hard.”
“Mmhmm. So hard I’m still seeing stars.”
“Do you think it would be dangerous, medically, for me to fuck you right now?”
“I’m fine! It’s essential that you fuck me, right this instant.”
“All right,” I said, introducing just the very, very end of my dick into her tight passage. “But if there’s a medical emergency, I’m not nursing you back to health, remember?”
“Good,” she said as I slowly—painfully slowly, ridiculously slowly—slid my cock into her.
She was so deep and tight that she felt like a calfskin glove. Did tall women have deeper pussies? Lily Lane’s felt like it went on forever. Like I was going in so far I’d find myself at the Earth’s core, melting and burning, encased in fire.
Her eyes widened as I stopped. I wanted her to feel every inch of me inside of her before I started sliding out again.
“You fill me up,” she whispered. “Completely.”
I nodded, then bent down and kissed her. I kissed her long and hard, letting my tongue move while my cock stayed rigid and still.
She moaned and squirmed, grinding her ass in the hope of a release, but I kept her pinned down to the hood of that bonnet, skewered on my rock-hard cock.
Then, I grazed her earlobe with my lips, and murmured into her ear: “You fill me up too, baby.”
I couldn’t hold on much longer. I wanted to fuck her so hard and so fast that we both came instantly. But I needed to savor this. My first fuck in years. With the most beautiful, red-headed goddess in town. It might never happen again. I had to make sure neither of us ever forgot this.
I started with small, shallow thrusts, relishing the feel of her tight muscles gripping me, and the way her young body responded to my touch. I leaned over so that my lips were inches from hers. “I hope you’re ready for me to destroy you, Lily.”
“Yes please,” she whispered, her voice a husky plea.
Her voice was a fucking aphrodisiac, I swear. When she spoke to me, it was like I forgot everything except pleasure.
I moved faster, my hips pounding against her, my hands gripping her thighs, pulling her closer with each thrust. The world around us faded away, leaving only the two of us, lost in the rhythm of our bodies. The friction was exquisite, her wet heat clinging to me, and I could feel it building, the tension coiling like a spring.
“More,” she whispered, her voice breathy. “Fuck, yes. More.”
I gave her more, and more, increasing the speed and intensity until I was a blur of movement, her body slamming back against the car each time I thrust into her. I kneaded her breasts, rolled her nipples between my fingertips, and ran my hands across the perfection of her body. Our bodies were slick with sweat, her cries of passion filling the room as she met each thrust with a needy moan.
I grabbed the side of the car for purchase, and I must have accidentally touched some lubricant, because the next time I touched her shoulder, I left a black smudge on her.
“I want you to mark me,” she panted as I thrust harder. “I want you to cover me with the dirt of this garage.”
I grabbed hold of her breast now, leaving a dirty hand print on her, her pink nipple now striped black with grease. Then I slid my hand down to her stomach, marking that too, then cupped her face, leaving a filthy trail wherever I’d been.
“I need to get you real dirty all over,” I growled. Then I slid my cock out of her, then flipped her over so that her breasts were squashed up against the cherry-red surface of the car. Damn, her ass looked good, all pink from rubbing around on my Ferrari. I gripped her butt tight as I pushed into her from behind, admiring my oily fingerprints on her white ass.
“Yes!” she shouted, so loud it sent adrenaline coursing through me.
“You like it dirty, huh?” I asked, giving her a light spank as I plunged my dock into her.
She cried out for more, so I spanked her again, harder this time, leaving a red handprint next to the black.
And then, just when I thought I couldn’t take it any longer, I felt her muscles clench around me. She slammed her fist down on the hood of my car as the orgasm ripped through her, and her tight walls fluttered wildly against my dick, pushing me straight over the edge, and milking out every last fucking drop of cum I’d saved up over the last decade.
I groaned like an animal.
I don’t think I’ve ever made a sound like that. A sound of release. Of deep, primal pleasure. Of complete satisfaction.
It was my turn to see stars. It was my turn to forget who I was, where I was, how I was.
I bit down on her shoulder, marking her again, and it drew another couple of flutters from her pussy.
“I don’t want it to end,” I said into her ear. Then, reluctantly, I slid out of her and turned her over.
She blinked up at me with lazy eyes and gave me a dreamy smile. “Well and truly destroyed.”
“Ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” I told her. I kissed her softly on the lips, our chests pressing against one another’s, hearts pounding.
Then I looked into her eyes, trying to communicate the enormity of everything I’d just felt. The air was electric. I wanted to keep staring into those captivating blue depths forever, to let myself drown in the intimacy.
But Lily’s lips quirked into a playful smirk. “Hey now, remember the ‘no prolonged eye contact’ rule?”
“Was that more than five seconds?” I asked, my breathing still heavy.
“I don’t know,” she laughed. “I think I forgot how to count.”
“Lily,” I said, suddenly serious. “That was . . .”
“Perfect?”
“What’s more than perfect?” I asked.
“Me,” she said, teasing.
But she was right.