13. Lily
Chapter 13
Lily
W hat makes a great first sex scene?
I stood back and surveyed my handiwork—a towering display of romance novels featuring some of the filthiest, most sensual first fucks ever put to paper. The sign on the table said, “First Time’s the Charm: Climactic First Encounters.”
There was Flawless by Elsie Silver. That sex scene had torn me apart. It was a long time coming, and the hunger that the two characters had for each was off the charts. There was Trouble by Tia Louise. There’s nothing like a confident man who knows exactly what he wants. And of course, Rush by Maya Banks. Nothing fancy about that. Just hot as hell.
Almost as hot as a man who flings you over a sports car, spanks your ass, and bangs your brains out.
I sighed.
A day had passed since Ethan and I had, ahem, spent time together in his garage, but I felt like the aftershocks were still reverberating around my body. Every now and then, I’d think about something he’d done, like the way he’d held his erection at my slick entrance and made me wait and wait and wait for him.
And every time I thought about it, I’d feel the heat under my skin. The tremors in my legs.
I’d need to breathe slowly, deliberately, fighting my way through a haze of pleasure, finding my way back to Planet Earth.
What makes a great first sex scene?
It leaves you wanting more.
I adjusted the stack of novels, making sure all the spines were aligned. Perfectly fitting together. Just like Ethan had fit so perfectly in me. . . .
And there went my legs again.
So far, the rules I’d written out seemed to be working.
Ethan and I had sex. Hot, dirty, butt-spanking sex. And then I jumped in his shower—alone—and left. I barely spoke to him that evening while I looked after Ava, either.
Top marks to us.
We didn’t get snowed in, or fall asleep, or decide to go on a road trip together.
We did well. And it felt good. It felt safe. Exciting, but safe.
Plus, I had managed not to see any birds or deer or any other fairytale signs that Ethan was “the one.” Which, I think, meant I was growing. Learning how to be a normal person.
I adjusted a stray copy of Reckless . The problem with all these steamy books in front me was that after those steamy first encounters, the characters in the stories started careening toward their odds-defying, unrealistic-as-hell, happily ever afters.
Bullshit. It was all bullshit.
And there was a certain joy in accepting that. That no matter what happened between Ethan and I, no matter how fucking gorgeous our sex was, it wasn’t going to lead to some kind of nirvana. It wasn’t a means to an end. It was just down and dirty, in the moment fucking.
And that’s surely the best kind, isn’t it?
Just then, my phone buzzed, and I almost leaped out of my skin and knocked down the entire display of books I’d so carefully built up all morning.
I tried not to check for messages too eagerly. Sure, I was hoping it might be a certain dark and brooding, firefighting, single-dad mechanic with talented hands and perfect lips. But it’s not like I cared that much. I was just hoping for a booty call. That’s all. Something mindless and feelings-free.
It wasn’t him. Obviously.
It was Elara.
Hey Lils, where are you? I’m waaaaaiting.
Argh! I’d completely forgotten our wedding planning session. I checked the time—luckily, I was only five minutes late. I didn’t bother typing anything back, I just put up the ‘Out for lunch’ sign on the bookstore door, then locked up, and headed out.
Spring was my favorite season. I loved the planters on Main Street brimming with tulips. The small strings of bunting hanging between the stores flapping gently in the breeze. I loved the gulls calling, the cold waves crashing, and more than it all, I loved the sound of excited children demanding ice cream, despite how early in the day it was, and how far from scorching the temperature was at this time of year.
I hadn’t mentioned to El that Ethan and I had done the deed. I’d been saving that piece of excitement for a face-to-face meeting. Her mouth did the cutest little curl when she was scandalized by something.
I pushed open the bakery door, the bell tinkling. Inside, O’Neil’s was a wonderland of delectable treats—trays piled high with golden croissants, glazed donuts in every color of the rainbow, and cupcakes swirled with buttercream frosting. There were, of course, plenty of trays full of Elara’s now state-famous apple pie, stacked up and ready to be served. El stood behind the counter, her honey-blonde ponytail bouncing as she boxed up a dozen snickerdoodles for a waiting customer.
“Lils!” She smiled brightly, handing over the pink box and waving me over. “I’ll be right with you!”
As I waited, I noticed a familiar figure hunched over in the corner, a toolbelt slung low on his hips. Cole, Elara’s fiancé and Ethan’s brother, was hard at work fixing up a shiny red vinyl booth.
Unless Elara had told him, he still didn’t know about me and Ethan. I’d have to keep my news to myself a little bit longer, even if it felt as though I was about to explode.
“Hey, Lily,” he greeted me, barely glancing up from the bolts he was tightening. “Did El rope you into wedding planning? Better you than me.”
“Oh shush,” Elara playfully swatted at him as she came around the counter. “I know you’re excited, even if you won’t admit it.”
“I’m excited to be your husband,” Cole admitted. “Weddings, though . . . not exactly my favorite way to spend a day.”
“I agree,” I said, without thinking.
“Shit,” said Cole. “Wasn’t thinking. How are you holding up?”
I tried and failed not to blush. “Oh, you know,” I said, my voice way too sing-songy. “I’m actually not too bad!”
Ever since your brother fucked me on the hood of his Ferrari and left a greasy hand print on my ass that still hasn’t fully come off.
“Good,” Cole said, nodding. “Lucky escape, if you ask me. Next time you get married it’ll be done properly, Lily. I know it.”
I snorted. “I’m never getting married ever again.”
Especially not to your brother.
“Don’t worry,” Elara said, grabbing a thick white binder overflowing with magazine clippings, fabric swatches, and vendor cards. “I’m going to restore your faith in the power and pageantry of a well-planned wedding.”
“Yeah, she’s been saying ‘pageantry’ a lot recently,” Cole said with a smile.
“Prepare yourself,” she grinned. “I’m about to blow your mind with my brilliant vision!” She paused, laying a hand on my arm. “You really are okay with this, though, right, Lils? It hasn’t been that long since—”
“I’m fine with it,” I said, waving my hand. “Seriously. My wedding wasn’t really a wedding. You know? More like a temporary lapse in sanity.”
Elara smiled kindly. “Well, just to ensure this experience is as enjoyable for you as possible, I’m letting you choose anything you want from my store. Seriously. Eat as much as you like while we talk.”
I looked at the goods behind the counter. “Well, if I have to, then I guess I’ll go for a Cherry Danish.”
And that’s definitely not because the candied cherry on top reminds me of a certain sports car. . . .
For the next hour, while Elara’s assistant, Wendy, worked behind the counter, Elara walked me through every last detail—the driftwood arch twined with seashells. The sunset-hued blooms where they would exchange vows on the beach. The twinkling tent strung with paper lanterns for dinner and dancing. The towering cake shaped like a huge Tarte Tatin. It all sounded dreamy and perfectly them . Every now and then, Cole would whistle at how lavish it all sounded, and chuckle at the ambition of Elara’s plans.
To be honest, it wasn’t much of a conversation. It felt more like Elara just wanted to boost her confidence by talking through her plans with me. I was fine with that, though. Genuinely. It was awesome to see my best friend so happy.
“And so, we come to the bachelorette party,” Elara eventually said. “I’ve decided that we’ll combine it with the bachelor party. Because Cole’s friends are my friends and vice versa. It always feels so old-fashioned that the two parties are separate. And it’s not like Cole’s gonna have a bunch of strippers and whatnot at his—”
“Of course not,” Cole said, with a twinkle in his eye. “There’s no way I’d be into anything like that. Naked women? Gross.”
“That’s right,” Elara said, with a twinkle in her own. “Having said that, I do want to have a little fun. I may not be drinking, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be cutting loose. So, we’re going to charter a boat out to Goldharbor Bay!” She was so animated when she got excited. I loved it.
Cole looked up from where he was now sanding the booth, brow furrowed. “A boat party? With my brothers and your friends? I thought we were keeping things, you know, tame .”
My throat went dry.
I was going to be on a boat. With Ethan.
Elara waved away his concerns. “Cocktails, dancing, maybe a naughty party game or two. I’m not waddling down the aisle with this baby bump without one last hurrah! Then, when we get to Goldharbor Bay, we’ll separate into the two groups—boys and girls—and have a private drink and bite to eat before heading back to Bluehaven.”
I was going to be on a boat. With Ethan. With cocktails. And maybe a naughty party game or two.
What had that rule been?
We must not attend weddings or romantic events together as each other’s plus one.
Cole grumbled something unintelligible, but I could see the affection in his eyes. He was powerless to deny his bride-to-be.
As Elara talked about bouquets and boutonnieres, I daydreamed about Ethan on the boat. Maybe we’d be near each other on the dance floor. The lights would be low. The boat would sway. Lights would twinkle.
No one would see, but our hands would find each other.
No one would see, but our lips would find each other.
No one would see, but his hardness would find my softness and he’d rock with the ocean, sweeping me away once more to a dark land of pleasure and . . . feelings.
I couldn’t wait to pull El aside later and fill her in on every detail of my foray into friends-with-benefits. She’d be thrilled her plan had paid off, even if ours wasn’t exactly a fairytale romance.
Finally, my moment came.
“Ugh,” Cole blurted out. “Need some more hardware. I’m out to Peach and Tree for some screws and whatnot. Back in ten.”
The moment he stepped out of the bakery, I grabbed Elara’s arm and pulled her out of earshot of any of the customers.
“I had sex with Ethan!” I hissed.
Elara’s green eyes widened, her mouth curling into that scandalized smile that I found so damn cute. “ I knew it! I knew it! It worked!” she said, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Your nerdy romance rul—”
“Wait, nerdy?”
“I knew it!” She wrapped me in a tight hug.
I couldn’t help but giggle. “It was incredible, El. Like, mind-blowingly amazing. And. . . .” I bit my lip, glancing around to make sure Cole wasn’t about to come back in. “We agreed it’s just a casual thing, you know? Like we planned. No strings attached.”
Elara nodded, her expression turning serious. “Totally. So, it was just a one-off?”
“Uh . . . maybe? Probably? Maybe not? I don’t know!”
“Well, whatever happens, just enjoy the moment and see where it goes!” She patted her swollen stomach mischievously.
I playfully swatted at her arm. “I’m not having his baby, dummy! I’m trying to be responsible here. Ava needs stability, and Ethan’s emotionally unavailable. Plus, it’s probably just a rebound thing for me. Plus, there’s the age gap. Plus, he’s my boss.”
She squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Don’t overthink it. Just take things one day at a time and see where your heart leads you. And if you end up pregnant and in love like me—”
“Quit it! Anyway, I thought you were encouraging me to keep it casual.”
“No, no, I was just saying you could if you wanted to. Like, it’s possible.”
I sighed, my mind swirling with doubts. “So, you’re saying I should take things further with him? Why do I feel confused? I don’t want to feel confused.”
“Hey, don’t stress. You got this. And no matter what happens, I’m here for you.”
As if on cue, the bakery door opened again, and Cole returned, with a bucket of—presumably—screws in his hand.
“Back in business,” he said with a grin.
***
I’d barely settled behind the counter when the store phone rang, its shrill tone cutting through the cozy atmosphere. Snatching it up, I answered with my most professional voice. “Happy Ever Affogato, where love stories come with a side of caffeine. How may I help you?”
“Lily Lane, my favorite runaway bride!” a familiar voice exclaimed. “How the heck are you?”
“Mary-Beth?” I squealed, nearly dropping the phone in my excitement. “It’s so good to hear from you! What’s new?”
“Never mind me, what’s new with you ? You never replied to my email, and I’ve been missing my Lily catch-ups.” Mary-Beth was a sweetheart. Even though she was now a super-successful romance agent, she always seemed genuinely interested in my less-than-glamorous life.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” I replied. “There’s been a lot going on. Some big changes.”
“You know what they say: change is the only constant in life.”
“Yeah.”
“No regrets?”
“Not one.”
“I’m still in awe of you,” said Mary-Beth. “When you decided to teach Vlad a lesson, I felt so proud. You’re my hero. Everyone in the office has heard the story a bazillion times.”
“Really?” I blushed. The thought of all those literary people finding little old me interesting was strangely flattering.
“Of course! Coco was like, ‘We need to buy the rights to her life story for a romance novel.’”
I snorted, caught between amusement and mild indignation. “Right. She wants to make money off my misery. Charming.”
Mary-Beth laughed. “Don’t worry, she tries to buy all our most shameful secrets. She once asked for copyright when I—” She paused. “Let’s just say it involved a misunderstanding with a very handsome delivery guy and a box of, um, ‘personal items’ that definitely weren’t books.”
I gasped, torn between shock and laughter. “No way! What happened?”
“Coco offered me a two-book deal on the spot. I told her I’d rather eat my own manuscripts.”
I cackled.
Mary-Beth cleared her throat. “Anyway, I have a favor to ask.”
I twirled the phone cord around my finger. “Go on.”
“Marge Statten’s book tour. It’s the final book of her Lavender Farms series, and it’s going to be a big one. She absolutely adores the name of your bookstore and is very keen on doing an event there. Have you made a decision yet?”
My heart started racing. “When were you thinking?”
As Mary-Beth rattled off dates and logistics, my mind raced with wild fantasies. Marge Statten complimenting me on the incredible name of my bookstore. Marge Statten deciding to name a character after me in her next novel. Marge Statten and I, becoming penpals and maybe even going on vacation one day, chatting about romance novels over peach bellinis.
“What do you say, Lils? You in?”
“Absolutely,” I began. “I can’t wait to—”
The words stuck in my throat.
I loved Marge Statten. I idolized her. But . . . a romance author. Coming to sell lies about cozy love and happily ever afters. It was Marge Statten who had made me into the airheaded romantic who’d thought marrying Vlad was a good idea. She even literally had a rock star character in her first Lavender Farms novel who had convinced me that Vlad was a reasonable match.
I had the strangest feeling. Like even though I loved romance, it had been completely toxic for me. It was only since I had ditched it and decided to have completely feelings-free sex with Ethan that I had started to enjoy relationships.
Change is the only constant in life.
A sudden, wild idea had taken root, and I couldn’t get it to shift. “Actually, you know what? I’m going to sell the bookstore.”
“Wait. What?”
I took a deep breath, hardly believing the words I was speaking. “Yeah. I’m thinking about selling the bookstore. Seriously considering it.”
Silence hung heavy on the line for a moment before Mary-Beth found her voice. “Wow. That’s . . . unexpected. What brought this on?”
I shrugged, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Ever since the wedding, I just . . . when I think about romance, it makes me feel hollow.”
“So, romance is the issue? Love?”
“Yeah. The steamy stuff I can do. The first kisses and hot sex and dirty talk. I can do, like, the first 50 percent of romance novels. But all that stuff that comes later, the conflict resolution, the dark night of the soul, the hot reunion . . . I just don’t buy it. I don’t believe in it anymore. In fact, I’ve started to think that it might be poisonous.”
“Right. Poisonous. Are you . . . okay, Lily?”
“I think so. I don’t know.”
“Do you need to get away from Bluehaven Beach for a while? You must have so many awkward memories of Vlad there. I mean, if you want to make a clean break, I might have something for you. We’re looking for an agent.”
“I don’t want to be a romance agent, Mary-Beth.”
“Not romance. Horror!”
I nearly choked on my own tongue. “Horror? Me? You must be joking! I don’t know the first thing about horror!”
“Hey, you love books, you’re smart, and you work hard. That’s what counts. The rest you can learn.” Her voice softened. “Seriously, Lils. Think about it. It would be amazing to work with you. Like, seriously amazing. And Coco already thinks you’re a superhero for what happened at the wedding, so I don’t think she’d take much convincing.”
I blurted out a laugh. “Yeah. Thanks. No. I have . . . commitments here. I can’t just up and leave.”
There was hot sex to be had. Nannying to be done.
But maybe when the no-strings sex finally grew strings?
“We have great coffee here. Maybe not as good as the ones at your bookstore, but pretty good nonetheless. Oh, and on Fridays, we sometimes get to drink Champagne. Only if there’s been a book deal that week. Good Champagne, though. The real stuff.”
My head was spinning. “Thanks Mary-Beth. I’ll think about it. Now might not be the right time. Look, let’s timetable in the book signing with Marge. That will be . . . fun.”
“You’re sure? You’re not about to sell the bookstore in the next few weeks?”
“I’m sure. I’m not rushing into anything.”
***
Mary-Beth’s unexpected offer buzzed around my head all afternoon. Me. In New York. Starting afresh. Could something like that be good for me?
Clearly, things with Ethan weren’t going to last forever. He’d made that perfectly clear. At some point, I was going to have to think about my future.
Was that seriously my future, though? A horror agent? It sounded pretty unlike me . . . but then again, hadn’t I needed to shake things up lately?
I was still thinking about it when I picked up Ava from school.
“Great news!” Ava announced as I grabbed her schoolbag for her and slung it over my shoulder. “I got a dyslexia test!”
“You did?”
“Yep! Miss Brown said they contacted the state specialist, and they’re sending someone out to test me in a couple of weeks.”
“That is great news!” I beamed, giving her small body a big cuddle, then we got into the car. “Actually, I have some more good news for you.”
“Ooh, what?”
“Your overlays arrived!”
“I can’t wait to try them out.”
“I got a book for you, too.”
I pulled the BFG out of my bag. “Another Roald Dahl. Since you enjoyed Matilda so much.”
“Nice! But can’t we get it on audiobook?”
“We can, but I thought it might be good to test it out with your overlays first.”
Ava nodded. “Okay. Good thinking.”
We drove in comfortable silence for a few moments until Ava asked, in a quiet voice. “Lils, you know the dyslexia test? Does it hurt?”
My heart melted. “Oh, sweetie, no. It’s not that kind of test. It’s just some special activities to help your teacher understand how your brain works.”
Ava’s shoulders relaxed. “Okay, good. I was kinda worried.” She paused. “They don’t put probes into my skull, do they?”
“Only if they’re thinking about abducting you and taking you back to Venus with them,” I joked.
“Naughty!” Ava said, laughing.
I grinned. Being with Ava felt so good. Sometimes, I got this slightly guilty feeling around her. Like Ethan and I were going behind her back. Meddling in her life. Risking her happiness.
But then again, we’d made those rules, hadn’t we? Partly to protect her. And besides, maybe nothing would ever happen between Ethan and me again.
We got back home and I let us in with the spare key Ethan had given me. The house was quiet, with Ethan still working at the garage. He’d be going to his firefighter training later, too.
“All right, Miss Ava,” I said, setting my bag on the counter. “It’s readin’ time.”
I pulled out the packet of overlays, each a different soft hue.
“Now sweetheart, I want you to understand that this isn’t going to be a magic cure, okay? It might help, it might not. If it doesn’t, then try not to be too disheartened, all right? This isn’t the only tool we’ve got at our disposal—it’s just the quickest one I could get my hands on.”
“All right,” she said, with a brave smile, “I get it.”
“Good girl.”
We got comfy on the couch and then began to experiment, laying each colored sheet down on the first page of the book in turn.
“Bleurgh,” said Ava, rubbing her eyes. “This red sheet makes all the word looks angry and evil.”
I laughed. “Guess the red one’s not for us then. How about the purple?”
Ava’s nose scrunched as she focused, her finger tracing the words. “I’m not sure,” she said, crestfallen. “It’s just like always but . . . purple.”
I was taken back to my own childhood, to the shame I used to feel about my reading and the relief I felt when things had improved. I wanted so badly for this to help. “No worries,” I said as cheerfully as I could. “Let’s try the others.”
We tried the rest, and Ava glared at each new sheet as though it was a mountain she had to climb.
“I think . . .” She paused, then broke into a grin. “I like the blue one best. The dark blue one. It’s making the letters stop moving around so much. Wait, let me try the yellow again.”
Relief flooded my veins.
“No, the dark blue! The blue is so much better!” She gave out a little whoop and then held out a hand for a high-five. I didn’t leave her hanging.
“So,” I said. “Blue it is.” I helped her adjust the overlay, then sat back. She’d never read to me before. I was almost scared to ask. But I did anyway.
“Okay,” said Ava, nodding eagerly.
As she began to read, her voice growing more confident with each word, I felt a lump form in my throat.
This kid. This sweet, smart, resilient kid. She’d been through so much, and yet here she was, tackling her challenges head-on with a smile.
I put my arm around her shoulder and squeezed.
We stayed like that for a long time.
***
It was much later when we heard a key turning in the front door lock.
“Is that Daddy?” Ava asked, before breaking into a yawn.
I nodded. “Get ready.”
A moment later, the door swung open, and Ethan strode in, his face lined with exhaustion. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it over the banister.
“Ava, you’re still up?” he asked gruffly. “It’s way past your bedtime.”
Ava’s face fell, the book lowering to her lap. “But Daddy, I was just—”
“No buts. Bed. Now.” Ethan rubbed a hand over his face, clearly tired from his long day. “Lily, I’m surprised you let her stay up this late.”
I swallowed away a twinge of guilt. “Ethan, wait a moment. Ava has something she wants to show you.”
His blue eyes met mine, a flash of annoyance passing through them. “Lily, I appreciate you watching her, but it’s late and I’m beat.”
“She’s very, very excited, Ethan. Just give her a minute. Please .” I held his gaze, silently urging him to give me a chance.
Something in my expression must have gotten through. His shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him. “All right, Ava-Raver. What is it?”
Ava perked up, patting the couch beside her. “Come sit, Daddy. I want to read to you.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he complied, sinking onto the cushion. Ava snuggled into his side, propping the book on her knees. She got out her trusty blue overlay and placed it on the page.
As she began to read, her small finger skimming beneath the words, I watched Ethan’s face transform. The weariness melted away, replaced by wonder, then pride. Tears glimmered in his eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips.
Ava’s voice filled the room, strong and clear. She stumbled here and there, but pushed on, determined. And with each page, Ethan’s arm tightened around her, holding her close.
By the time she had finished the chapter, we were all misty-eyed.
Ethan pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his voice rough with emotion. “That was incredible, honey. I’m so proud of you.”
Ava beamed, her face aglow. “Lily helped me. She got me the special overlay.”
Ethan’s gaze found mine, a wealth of gratitude shining in their depths. “Thank you,” he mouthed, and I felt my heart swell.
After a round of celebratory hot chocolates, I tucked Ava into bed, her prized book on the nightstand. I clicked off the light, padding softly downstairs to the living room.
Ethan was waiting, his tall frame silhouetted against the window. He turned as I entered, something simmering in his eyes that made my pulse quicken.
“Lily,” he said quietly. “You see things that I don’t.”
I stepped closer, drawn to his warmth. I could smell him now. The faint scent of engine oil and smoke. “I just wanted to help,” I said softly. “She’s an amazing kid, Ethan.”
“She is. And you’re amazing with her.” His hand came up, cupping my cheek. I leaned into his touch, my skin tingling.
“Ethan . . .” I breathed, my hands settling on his chest. I could feel the thud of his heartbeat beneath my palm, strong and steady. “I think we’re breaking a rule. About non-sexual touch.”
Ethan smiled. “Who says it’s non-sexual?” His thumb brushed my lower lip, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “I’ve been thinking about the other night.”
“Me too.”
“Matter of fact, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
I squirmed, pushing my thighs together as I felt the heat rise in me.
He pushed his thumb up to my lips and brushed it over them. “What was that other rule? Nothing sexual two days in a row? Which means . . . we’re good to go, right?”
“Mmhmm,” I moaned, kissing the rough tip of his thumb. “We definitely are.”
“And that will protect us from catching feelings?”
I nodded, took his thumb into my mouth, sucked it.
“You know,” he whispered. “I have something in mind.”
“Oh really?”
“Come with me. We’re going outside.”
I shot him a look.
We didn’t go far. Just out the back of the house, to the patio sofa. It was a surprisingly warm evening, with just the faintest breeze.
“Full moon tonight,” I remarked, looking out at the silvery sky up above.
“Yup,” said Ethan. “Saw it on my way home. Thought you might get a kick out of seeing me turn into a werewolf while we fuck.”
“Not funny,” I said, grinning. “Although werewolf romance does sell pretty well in my store. I never got into it, but maybe you’ll win me over tonight.”
Ethan bared his teeth at me playfully. He turned on the string lights and pulled me down onto the couch.
“I’m keeping you away from beds at all costs,” he growled.
“Away from beds?”
“Beds are for sleeping. We don’t sleep together. We fuck. We look up at the stars, and we fuck.”
“Wait,” I said, surveying the scene. “Is this romantic? Is it too romantic?”
He wrenched open my jeans and slid an insistent hand down my panties. He put his mouth to my ear. “You tell me,” he whispered. “Is this too romantic?”
“N-no,” I said, squirming, already wet with lust. “Not too romantic. Not at all.”
I whimpered as he pushed a thick finger into me, then groaned as he used my wetness to rub my clit.
“Been thinking about you all day,” he said. “That’s why I was grumpy when I got home. I wanted it to be just us. So I could do this to you.”
As he fingered me, I found his belt, unbuckled it, then unzipped his fly. Holy hell. I loved how hard he already was. He was so big that the tip had sprung from the top of his underwear, ready to split me apart.
“Is it too romantic if I tell you I’ve been dreaming about you sucking my cock for days?”
He strummed my clit faster now, pinning me back against the patio sofa, climbing on top of me, and straddling me so that his hands could work their magic on me as hard and fast as I needed it.
“Nope,” I panted, freeing his cock from his pants. “No, not too romantic. Not at all. I’d like to do that. Very much.”
“Good. I’m gonna make you come really fucking hard then you’re gonna suck my cock. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I moaned, trying not to be too loud in case Ava heard us. Slowly, tentatively, I gripped Ethan’s cock and started stroking it up and down.
“Fuck,” Ethan groaned. He leaned in to kiss me, crushing his lips against mine. I could taste the lingering hot chocolate on him and all I could do was submit to him, to his hunger, to his need.
His free hand slid under my top, yanking down my bra and stroking my breast. He groaned in delight as my nipple pebbled instantly under his touch.
“Sit on your hands,” he said. “Don’t do anything but stare up at that moon and accept the pleasure I’m giving you.”
I swallowed, sliding my hands under my ass. I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the moon as Ethan kissed my neck and stroked my clit, occasionally dipping two fingers deep inside me to find more of my wetness.
“Mmm,” he moaned against me. “You’re fucking perfect, Lily Lane. And you deserve a completely fucking perfect orgasm right now.” He bit down on my lower lip and sucked while his fingers drove me dizzy with desire. I couldn’t take it much longer. The full moon. The sitting on my hands. The rock-hard erection grinding against my belly while he straddled me and pushed me closer and closer to the edge of that cliff.
And then . . .
I felt like I just swallowed the full moon in one gulp, and it grew and grew inside me until it suddenly burst, sending silvery sparks of light all around my body.
I struggled to stay still as the pleasure broke against me like endless waves. A ragged, hoarse sigh escaped from my trembling lips.
“Fuck,” Ethan panted. “You’re sexy when you come.”
He kept his finger buried deep inside me while my muscles clenched around it over and over again, my climax so hard and fast I wondered if it would ever end. Finally, it calmed down enough for me to stutter, “Your turn.”
“You bet it is,” he replied, giving me a kiss.
Ethan climbed down off me, and I looked up at the silhouette of his thick cock, straining upright in the darkness, its swollen tip hungry and desperate for me. He lifted me into the air and I wrapped my legs around him, his cock grazing against my still-tingling pussy, making me instantly hungry for more.
Then, he lay back on the couch, taking me with him, so that I was straddling him now.
With my legs still shaking, I tugged his jeans and boxers down. His cock pointed at me, dangerous and dark.
I licked my lips, then planted a single, wet kiss on his tip. Then, slowly, I licked down the entire length of his shaft, and back up again. I gripped his now wet cock with my warm hands and swirled my tongue around the end. I felt his cock twitching, eager to get into my mouth. Finally, I took him between my lips.
“Fuck,” he gasped.
I moaned around his cock, feeling the veins of it alive on my tongue. He tasted good, of salt and smoke and man.
His fingers tangled in my hair, urging me to take him farther, deeper.
I opened my mouth wider, taking him right to the back of my throat, running my tongue all the way to the base of his member. Gripping him tightly, I stroked and sucked him at the same time, feeling him swelling even more, forcing my lips ever farther apart.
Ethan let out a low, guttural groan, his fingers digging into my scalp. I sucked harder and faster, feeling the heat of his cock throbbing in my mouth, the taste of him intoxicating.
“You’re so . . . good,” he managed, his voice a snatch of emotion.
“I love it,” I said, speaking around his cock.
“Jesus, Lily, you’re going to make me come.” He pulled my hair back, not hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough that I pulled away from his cock. “And I’m not coming. Not yet.”
He took off my glasses and set them down on the table. Then he looked into my eyes, and I saw his pupils grow even bigger in the darkness. “Fuck, Lily. You’re beautiful.”
He grabbed a condom from his jeans and rolled it on, then threw me down on the couch face-down and yanked down my jeans and underwear with a confident tug. My bare ass was exposed to him.
“We’re not going to break a single one of your rules,” he said, as he lay over me, his stomach pressing down onto my back, and his hot, hard cock nudged insistently between my thighs.
“I’m not looking into your eyes,” he told me as he guided the tip of his cock to my wet entrance. “Your eyes are way too dangerous, Lily. They’re like . . . feelings portals.”
Feelings portals?
I was about to question that, but I was completely distracted by the joyful feeling of his cock sliding into me. I gasped—at this angle, it felt even bigger, even fuller than last time.
I’d had rough sex before. I’d had dirty sex. I’d even had freaky sex.
But this?
Lying on my stomach under the full moon while Ethan McCoy pounded me from behind?
It was so fucking good.
He grabbed my arms and pinned them behind my back, his hands strong as steel. He lifted my ass slightly, tilting my body so that the tip of his cock hit parts so deep inside me it felt like no other man had even come close to exploring. He rammed into me, strong and relentless, and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from screaming.
It was exhilarating. Like being strapped to a rollercoaster.
“You like it when I fuck you hard, huh?” he growled into my ear.
“I like it.”
“You’re going to like this, too.”
His hand snaked between my legs, fingers finding my clit as he kept thrusting in and out of me.
“Oh, shit!” I yelped, my hips bucking and my back arching as the orgasm burst out of me.
What was going on with my body right now? I trembled and spasmed and pressed my face into the thin cushion of the patio sofa.
“Fu-uuuck,” I moaned, as the world slowly came back into focus. I realized that Ethan had stopped moving inside me. His cock was still, patient, as I took the time I need to recover. My muscles tensed and fluttered around him and the way he softly groaned told me he was enjoying this as much as I was.
“I love it when you come,” he said, his voice low and intense. “It does something to me. The way your voice catches in your throat. The way your pussy clamps down on my cock like a vice.”
“You can make me come as many times as you like,” I managed, my cheeks burning hot with post-orgasm bliss.
“I know I can,” he said. “But this time, we come together.”
To my surprise, he pulled out of me, flipping me over so we were facing each other. He gazed deep into my eyes as he slid into me.
For a moment, I felt like a rabbit caught in the eyes of a hawk.
“Watch out for the feelings portals,” I muttered.
He grunted and smiled at me, not breaking eye contact. Then, he started to move.
This time, it was different. This time, it was like slow fire. He held me close, kissed me deeply, and moved inside me as I lost myself. His hands explored my body as we bucked together, grinding and writhing, lost in the moment, under the stars.
Night creatures.
I heard his breath hitch. His fingers found my clit as he urgently brought me to the edge along with him.
“I can’t wait,” he whispered. “I need to come right now. You need to come right now.”
He thrust hard and fast and his fingers became more insistent. He seemed completely unwilling to come until he’d made me climax a third time, and lucky for him, he didn’t have to wait long. I was like a light switch, ready to be flipped by his fingers any time he wanted. As the orgasm ripped through me, I felt his cock thicken and throb, releasing pulse after pulse deep within my core.
If only he wasn’t wearing that condom , I thought dangerously.
He stared deep into my eyes, communicating with me silently as he emptied his load into me. He wasn’t saying a word, but still, I could hear the words crystal clear.
I like you, Lily Lane.
Watch out, Lily Lane.
Rules are made to be broken.
At last, he found my lips, kissing me with such confidence it was like he owned me.
Then, eventually, he pulled away.
“Fuck,” he said, “that was . . .”
Romantic? Out of this world?
“Sexy,” was the word he finally chose.
“It really was,” I said.
But it had been so much more. And it felt like both of us were too scared to say it.
“Only one problem,” I said, flashing him a mischievous grin.
Concern furrowed his brow. “What?”
“You didn’t turn into a werewolf,” I replied.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, his eyes filled with mirth as he growled in my ear, tickling me and then biting down on my neck so hard I squealed.
“Hey, vampires bite necks! Not werewolves.”
“This werewolf does whatever he goddamn wants,” he replied. Then, he looked down at me and his expression became instantly serious. He looked at me for quite some time. “That was definitely longer than five seconds. And frankly, if we stay out here much longer, holding each other like this, it might count as a slow dance.”
I smiled. “You’re right. We’d better go to bed. We’re doing great at following the rules.”
“We are,” he agreed. “Let’s go to bed. To our separate beds.”
“Right.”
As he walked me back inside, I fought the urge to hold his hand. I muttered some of our “no romance” rules under my breath, but as I did so, I glanced back at the full moon.
The moon seemed to wink at me.
Too late to be worrying about the rules, kiddo , it whispered to me. Way, way too late.