Chapter 27 Ethan
Ethan
After a short power nap and separate showers, we curl up on the couch in front of the fire.
Leni lies with her head in my lap, scribbling in her notebook, while I read, my fingers trailing absentmindedly through her hair.
It amazes me how natural it all feels, like I’ve known her forever instead of only a couple of months.
There’s no awkward need to fill the silence with needless chatter, both of us content to just enjoy this stolen moment together.
Though I’m dying to read her thoughts, I don’t peek, knowing how private she is with her writing.
She has talent, though. There’s no denying the power, pain, and passion in her words, mixed with that raw vulnerability she exudes.
While I know acting is her dream, she could certainly pursue her writing on the side.
It would be a shame to keep the world from her words, but even if she only writes for herself, that would be enough.
When her stomach grumbles, I chuckle and place the book I’m reading on the small side table. “Hungry, little devil?”
Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she stares up at me. “I’m always hungry for you, sir.”
Goddamn, my cock stirs beneath her.
“As tempting as that is,” I say, brushing a kiss over her smirking lips. “I’m talking about real sustenance.”
Leni’s stomach rumbles again, and this time we both laugh.
I slide out from underneath her, replacing my legs with a pillow, but she sits up. “Can I help?”
“And ruin my opportunity to spoil you?” I ask in mock outrage.
Her light laughter curls around the room, causing my chest to ache. I can’t get enough of that sound, and I want to be the one to make her do it more often.
“Fine. Can I at least supervise?”
“Distract, you mean?” My lips quirk up with my teasing tone.
She puts on an air of innocence. “Who? Moi?”
Laughing, I hold my hand out and help her to her feet. Wrapping my other hand around her waist, I bend down to kiss her deeply, loving the thrill I feel every time her lips touch mine, or her tongue dances in my mouth.
I pull away when her stomach rumbles again. “Come on, let’s get you fed before you turn into a gremlin.”
Leni follows me around the island bench, perching on it while I collect everything I need to make peppercorn-crusted steak with a creamy cognac sauce, which I plan on serving with sweet potato mash and broccolini.
“Ooh, fancy,” she purrs, leaning back on her hands. “I didn’t realise I was dating a chef as well as a history professor and soccer coach.”
“An incredibly handsome chef, history professor, and football coach,” I remind her with a cocky grin as I pull the steaks from the fridge and set them on the bench.
She raises a brow, smirking. “Modest, too.”
“Humility is for people who can’t cook steak like I can,” I shoot back, cracking black pepper into a dish like I’m about to win MasterChef.
“So, this is your move, then? Lure me in with an amazing dicking, then seal the deal with food orgasms?”
I almost choke on my laughter. “You’ve really got a way with words, don’t you, little devil?”
She shrugs, failing to hide her smile as she bats her eyes innocently. “What would you call it, sir?”
Stepping between her legs, I cup her arse and pull her towards me to grind my hardening cock against her legging-clad pussy. “Careful, or you’re going to get yourself into trouble.”
Leni leans in and licks the seam of my mouth. “Promise?”
With a groan and inhuman strength, I wrench myself away from her and resume preparing our meal. While I cook, she asks me specifics about today’s game, and it feels weirdly domesticated. I can totally envision coming home from work to her and chatting about our day.
“Have you heard from Luca since he left?” she asks, and my eyes snap up to her.
“I didn’t know you knew him,” I say carefully, an unreasonable surge of jealousy slinking through me.
She nods. “He’s dating my best friend, Willow.”
“His stepsister?” I ask, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. I’m not a huge fan of George Whitford and avoided him where I could, but I remember the quiet blonde from the time George ambushed me outside the stadium after a home game a year or so ago. “He kept that quiet.”
Leni winces. “They… met, for lack of a better word, at Euphoria on one of the masked nights about eight months ago,” she explains. “But they, uh, didn’t realise they knew each other until Luca found out he was leaving. He invited her to go with him.”
Oh, shit. How had I not heard about that? It seems the club is a breeding ground for taboo relationships. Not that I’m judging. I wouldn’t change a thing.
The sweet potatoes start to boil over, distracting us from our conversation, and I refocus my attention on the stove. Once the vegetables and sauce are done, I carefully sear the steak, only a few minutes on each side, before plating up.
Leni disappears into the bedroom to put away her notebook and grab a hoodie, and I pour two glasses of wine. When she returns, I offer her one, but she smiles and shakes her head.
“I don’t drink.”
My eyes widen, but I don’t say anything as I leave both the untouched glasses on the sink and sit next to her at the island bench.
“How did I not know that about you? I just assumed…” My brow furrows. “I bought you a drink at Euphoria. Not that it matters. You just continue to surprise me, little devil.”
“Water with lime,” she explains, her shoulder lifting in a half-hearted shrug. “Diego looks after me. I drank at a couple of parties when I was a teenager, but I didn’t like the way it made me feel… The loss of control, I guess. I don’t know.”
I sense there’s more to it, but I don’t push.
“Are you sure you’re only twenty-two?” I tease instead, reaching over to squeeze her waist.
She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Is my age an issue?”
“No,” I tell her without hesitation. It might make things more challenging, but it doesn’t bother me. With a small grin, I throw her own words back at her. “Age is just a number.”
Leni swats my chest playfully. “Watch it.”
I catch her hand, pinning it against my body. With my free hand, I tilt her chin up so I can brush my lips over hers. “Your age honestly doesn’t bother me, Leni. Does it bother you?”
She shakes her head, her bright blue gaze searching mine. “Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“Why did you invite me here?”
“I wanted to spend time with you.”
“Good answer.” Her lips tug up as she kisses me, soft and slow.
Our tongues meet, and as always, it sends an electric current through me. This woman has me wrapped around her finger, but instead of getting carried away and deepening the kiss, I gently pull away and rest my forehead against hers.
“Eat before it goes cold. We’ve got plenty of time for that later.”
Leni pouts before picking up her cutlery and taking her first bite of the steak. The sinful sound that slips from her mouth almost has me reconsidering. My dick strains uncomfortably against my pants.
“Oh my God, Ethan,” she moans. “This is incredible.”
Clearing my throat, I dig into my meal, trying and failing to push all thoughts of my tongue travelling all over her body and eliciting those same noises as I bring her to multiple orgasms.
Fuck. How the hell did I go two and a half years without sex? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since meeting Leni. Not that this is only about sex—not anymore—but it’s certainly a bonus. She has me insatiable.
After dinner, I shoo Leni out of the kitchen while I clean up, despite her protest that I cooked, so the least she could do is help clean.
I explain that this weekend is about me spoiling her, and she eventually relents and moves into the living room.
She heads straight for the cupboard that holds the board games, and I grin, rinsing the suds off the frying pan as I watch her pull out Scrabble.
This could be interesting.
She sits cross-legged on the rug in front of the coffee table, and my mind drifts to the memory of her naked earlier.
I shake my head, rushing to finish cleaning up while she sets up the board.
Her hair falls over one shoulder, and she tucks it back absentmindedly as she arranges the tiles, her brow slightly furrowed.
It’s cute, the serious focus she exudes while preparing for this game, but I guess language is sacred to her, and I look forward to this new insight into her. I have no doubt she’ll be competitive.
My assessment is confirmed after I dry my hands, leave the stacked dishes to drip dry, and sit across from her. She lifts her gaze and offers a sly smile, as if she already knows she’s going to destroy me.
“I should warn you,” I say, selecting my tiles, “I have a PhD in obscure historical terminology.”
“I should warn you,” she replies, her voice light, “I read Middlemarch for fun and memorised half of Plath’s Ariel in high school.”
Suitably impressed, I chuckle. “A worthy opponent then.”
“I’m not here to win,” she says, laying down her first word. The H of theory sitting across a double letter score. “Just here to humble you.”
I raise a brow. “Starting strong.”
She shrugs. “It’s what most things in life are based on.”
“Can’t argue with you there.” I study my tiles carefully before laying down heroes, connecting it to the H and scoring not only the double letter score, but a double word score.
“Ooh, the romantic has come out to play,” she teases. “I might have to up my game.”
“Don’t you worry about my Scrabble game, little devil. I’m just getting warmed up.”
Satisfaction gleams in her eyes when she plays vixen on her next turn, hitting a double letter score on the X.
“Are you cheating, you little vixen?” I accuse, staring down at my shocking selection, moving them around as I search for a combination that will help me gain even a little bit of ground.
She snorts. “Said the sore loser.”
My lip curls up as I use her V and a blank tile to create devour. “Oh, I don’t plan on losing, baby. Triple word score.”
The good-natured banter continues throughout the game as our words become more complex, and we battle it out.
When I place romeo on the board, she challenges me, saying you can’t use names, and I admit I’m rather smug when I inform her it’s used as a descriptive term for men who are good lovers.
“You’re making that up,” she says through tears of laughter.
I shake my head. “I assure you I’m not. However, I’m more than happy to test the theory.”
Her gaze heats, her tongue swiping along her bottom lip, but then she narrows her eyes. “Don’t think I’m going to let you use sex to distract me from winning.”
My lips tug into a smile and I shrug. “What can I say? The word’s legal.”
She huffs and waltzes over to the bookshelf to retrieve the scrabble dictionary.
Flipping through, I hold back my laugh as her brow creases.
“Okay,” she relents, crossing her arms and studies the board before checking our current score.
“You get your way. But the tragedy here, Romeo, is you’re going down. ”
I’m rather impressed when she beats me by a mere four points, and I pretend to be more annoyed than I am.
Truthfully, I have a curious admiration for her.
Leni has more self-awareness than I had even ten years ago, and our deep conversations have me consumed.
There’s so much more to her than meets the eye.
Standing up and stretching out her stiff muscles, she grins down at me. “What do I get for winning?”
I don’t reply, simply crook my finger at her.
Licking her lips, she rounds the table and straddles my lap, circling her arms around my neck.
“Good game, sir,” she murmurs, gazing into my eyes.
I squeeze her waist. “Clever girl.”
Her cheeks flush a rosy hue, and she leans in to press her lips to mine in a chaste kiss. “This is fun.”
“Beating me?” I ask, arching a brow.
Leni shakes her head, her fingers playing with the hair at my nape. “Spending time with you.” She pauses, dropping her gaze. “Not having to leave after sex like I’m some dirty little secret.”
My chest squeezes. “You’re not a dirty little secret, Leni.” I tilt her chin so she’s forced to look at me. “Far from it. We just have to be careful until you graduate.”
She bites down on her lower lip. “What happens after graduation?”
Here it is.
The moment of truth.
The air around us is charged, vibrating with the knowledge that whatever we say from here on out is monumental in whatever this is turning out to be.
Running my thumb over her mouth, I release her lip and kiss her softly. “I know what I want, but you’re the one with your whole life ahead of you, Leni. This has to be your decision, and I’ll respect whatever you want.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes shining as she meets my gaze. Her fingers trace a path along my chest to settle over my rapid heartbeat.
“If I say I want to go wherever you go?”
My heart soars, but I maintain my composure and shake my head. “That’s not how this works. Tell me what you want to do. What are your plans after university?”
“I’ve applied for a scholarship to the National Institute of Musical Theatre Arts in Sydney. I find out next week if I’m accepted.”
A smile tugs on my lips. “You’ll be accepted.”
Her face remains impassive as she studies mine. “What does this mean for us?”
I brush her hair behind her ear, noting the way she leans into my touch. “Would you like me to come with you?”
She nods slowly, her eyes searching mine for any hint that this might be some kind of trick.
“Words, Leni.”
Her voice is barely a whisper when she says, “Yes.”
“Then I’ll come with you,” I murmur against her mouth before sliding my tongue between her parted lips in a sensual caress. She melts into me, kissing me back, and I know in this moment I’ll do anything this woman asks me to.
When we pull away, she draws in a deep breath. “I need to tell you something.”
I shake my head, lifting her off my lap and getting to my feet, pulling her with me. “There’s plenty of time to talk, little devil.”
“Ethan—”
“Stay in this moment with me, Leni. After my divorce, I thought my life was done, but you’ve awakened something in me I thought I’d never feel again.”
She swallows before burying her head in my chest and wrapping her arms around my waist. “This feels like it’s too good to last.”
I chuckle, resting my chin on her head. “Come on, little devil. I’m going to show you something else that’s too good to last.”
Taking her hand, I lead her into the bedroom and show her exactly why I won’t be letting her go.