Chapter 28
Jamie
I wake up in a giant, pillowy bed, swallowed by warmth, a bone-deep feeling of contentment, and the weight of a strong arm slung over my waist. Ethan’s scent lingers around me. I love the way he smells, his masculine spice and the faint trace of his cologne.
His breathing is slow and deep. I turn my face, careful not to wake him.
He looks peaceful, his face relaxed. His sharp edges and the hard set of his jaw have softened.
His dark hair is messy, and there’s a faint shadow of stubble along his jawline that’s impossibly sexy.
His long eyelashes cast delicate shadows onto his cheekbones.
My heart squeezes in my chest.
I never thought I’d wake up like this, wrapped in tangled sheets, tucked against a man like him.
Last night was both incredible and terrifying. I’m about to move into Ethan’s apartment, and this is only going to make everything more confusing. Sure, it’s a temporary arrangement, but our relationship is still moving scarily fast.
When I was a kid, my life would change all the time.
I always felt like I was on a roller coaster with no seatbelt, hanging on by my fingernails while it jerked me in different directions.
I’d never know where Mom and Dad would take me next, whether we’d be chased out of town or slink away.
If we’d have a house to move to, or if we’d have to sleep in our beat-up car.
When I think about how my life is changing now, that same scary feeling threatens to rise.
I don’t do whirlwind romances. And I don’t do “let’s-move-in-together” after only three weeks of knowing each other.
I shift slightly, studying the planes of his face, letting my gaze drift down his torso. He’s all lean muscle and power. Broad shoulders, defined abs, corded arms. Ethan Kane is a sculpted masterpiece. And the way he took his time with me last night, the way he shattered me…
My thighs clench involuntarily at the memory, heat curling low in my stomach. I have a strong urge to trace the contours of his abs with my fingertips and run my lips over the rough stubble that covers his jaw.
Yeah. I’m in trouble.
Maybe I should get up. I need some distance to be able to think straight.
But when I try to ease away from him, his arm tightens around my waist, and he pulls me back against his chest. Then I feel his erection pressing against my lower back, hard and insistent.
My mouth goes dry.
“Don’t even think about getting up,” he murmurs against my hair, his voice rough with sleep.
My heart stumbles, but I keep my tone light. “Are you keeping me prisoner?”
His hand skims over my thigh, hot and unhurried as he presses himself against me more deliberately. His erection feels huge. Awareness skates through my body like fire licking up dry tinder.
“Yes.” His lips nip at my earlobe. “You’re my captive and you can never escape.”
I arch into him, every nerve ending alight.
But before either of us can take it further, my stomach betrays me. A loud, unsexy growl rumbles through the silence.
Ethan barks out a laugh. “Was that you?”
I press my hand against my stomach, half amused, half embarrassed. “Oh my God. That was so loud!”
Chuckling, Ethan lifts himself onto one elbow. “It’s my fault. I haven’t been feeding my prisoner enough.” His fingers stroke lazily over my bare skin. “I’d better order you some breakfast.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Breakfast in bed?”
His gaze darkens. “You’ll need the energy.”
My stomach clenches, not from hunger, but from the cocky promise in his tone.
Squeezing my thighs together, I pull away from him and stand up before I can do something reckless, like climb back on top of him and forget my stomach exists.
“I have a better idea than room service,” I say, heading out toward the suite’s sitting room with its mini kitchen. I’m stark naked, enjoying the feel of his eyes on me, his gaze heated and heavy.
“Take your time.” His voice is rough. “I like the view.”
I put some sway into my hips, my skin tingling with eager anticipation. I grab the plate of leftover chocolate soufflé from the fridge and two spoons before heading back to the bedroom.
Ethan is propped against the headboard, bare-chested, hair tousled, watching me with shameless appreciation.
He had a sculpted body before we started training together, but in the last couple of weeks, his muscles have become even more defined.
He looks like a fantasy. He’s so handsome, he almost doesn’t seem real.
Sliding back beneath the sheets, I plop the plate between us. Then I scoop up a bite, the rich dessert still smooth and decadent even though it’s cold. “Mmm,” I say as I swallow. “Oh my God. It’s heaven.”
Ethan doesn’t move. He watches me eat, his gaze intense.
“Chocolate for breakfast,” I mumble with my mouth full. “What could be better?”
“Nothing.” He swipes his finger through the chocolate on the plate, then smears it onto my nipple.
My breath catches.
He leans in and licks it off, slow and deliberate.
A shudder goes through me.
He swipes his finger in chocolate again and covers my other nipple, leaning over me to suck it off.
Without breaking eye contact, I dip my finger into the chocolate, then pull down the covers and smear chocolate onto his erection. His breath catches and his eyes spark.
His reaction is everything I want.
As I move down to lick the chocolate, he grabs a fistful of the sheet and lets out a low, needy groan.
I take my time licking the chocolate off, getting every bit and then some.
With every hitch of his breath and squeeze of his bedsheets in his fist, the throbbing between my legs gets more insistent.
I love that I’m driving him crazy. That his muscles are stretched tight, his jaw is clenched, and his eyes are full of a desire so strong it seems dangerous.
I suck him into my mouth, taking as much of him as I can, and he hisses between his teeth.
“Fuck,” he says, his voice tight. “Fuck. Me.”
I grin up at him, unable to resist teasing him a little. “Well,” I say, grabbing the rapidly emptying condom packet and tipping one out. “If you insist.”
I roll the condom on him, already aching for him. I need him inside me.
As soon as it’s on, he catches me around my waist. I’ve spent so many years wrestling that I know what he’s doing as soon as he moves, and I could easily pull a countermove. But why would I? In fact, I help him flip me onto my front, then lift myself so I’m on my hands and knees.
The exquisite sensation of him sliding in from behind makes me cry out. He’s so big. So good. He fills me completely, gripping my hips and pushing all the way into me.
“That feels…” He groans.
“Amazing,” I pant.
“You’re so beautiful. So perfect.” He slides out and then in again. Then he slides out and drives in hard, making me cry out.
“Okay, angel?” He strokes his hands over my bare back.
“Better than okay.”
He drives in again. Then again. I spread my thighs and brace myself against the headboard, and he picks up the pace, going faster and harder, pounding into me.
Each stroke drives my pleasure higher and higher.
I love the way he fills me, that he’s controlling the pace, that all I can do is hang on for the ride.
Then he sinks his front against my back, sliding his hand down my front, all the way between my thighs.
My pleasure explodes when he touches me, and I scream as my orgasm crashes over me.
Ethan pushes into me hard, timing his powerful strokes with my shuddering cries, wringing every last drop of my release out of me. Then with a roar, he drives all the way in and pulses inside me.
My arms go weak, and I tremble, on the verge of collapse. He slides one arm under me, the other braced on the bed. He holds me up, his body racked with the strength of his orgasm.
A sharp ringtone pierces the air.
Ethan curses and swipes the phone off the nightstand. It keeps ringing on the floor, while we collapse into a heap on the bed.
He drags my limp, boneless body onto his chest, smooths my hair back and kisses my forehead. Then he settles one hand on my neck, behind my hair.
The phone stops ringing.
“I’m wrecked,” I say, still breathless. My orgasm was so strong, it practically turned me inside out. It drained every bit of my strength, but I don’t remember ever feeling this good.
“Me too,” he agrees, sounding so relaxed he seems like he’s about to go back to sleep.
His phone starts ringing again.
I groan. “Oh, come on.”
“That better be the cure for cancer,” he growls. “Or someone’s getting fired.”
I glance at the window, where daylight is streaming in. “It’s Monday.”
Ethan brushes his lips lazily along my forehead. “Not yet. It’s still Sunday night.”
I snort a laugh. “You think? I’ve never seen a moon that bright.”
“It’s probably still early.”
“If it gets any brighter in here, I’ll need sunglasses. And your guys are starting work on the gym today, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. They are.” He heaves a sigh, sounding a lot more awake. “Fuck. I need to answer my phone.”
It stops ringing.
“Kayla’s expecting me in the office,” I say. “Are we heading back to LA today?”
“We’ll go back right after breakfast. And don’t forget, you’ll need to grab your things today and move into my place before my team starts removing anything that could be toxic.”
As good as I feel right now, the reminder still sends a nervous rush of energy through me. “I haven’t forgotten.” Pulling myself off him, I say a wistful goodbye to my languid state of bliss.