Chapter 5 Ethan
ETHAN
Dane’s question comes out harsh and a little aggressive compared to the way he talked to Hannah.
In fact, his body language toward me changed completely the moment she walked in. Earlier, he was completely naked, nothing but a paper-thin terrycloth towel and lingering water droplets decorated his body.
Oh, and that tattoo that wrapped around his shoulder blade.
A dandelion with a curved stem and a sphere of delicate fluff, half of the puffy florets were blowing off, as if currently floating in the wind. It was easy to spot because he had no other tattoos, leading me to believe it was more meaningful than it was for a love for inked skin.
He was singing under his breath as he dried himself off. His whole energy was easy going and carefree, while he was making fun of himself and smiling. Now his jawline is clenched and that exquisite body, I couldn’t help but stare at, is tense and rigid.
His eyes are bouncing between my hand and face and I can’t say I’m surprised by his question, but I’m taken aback by its intensity and prematurity.
He’s asking what most people avoid altogether.
They ignore them because it’s easier to pretend like our scars don’t exist than ask the awkward, uncomfortable question.
But that’s the thing, we can’t ignore them. We never could. We couldn’t ignore the outcome, the repercussions of the accident, and we sure as hell haven’t been able to get over the lasting effects of the scars, physically or mentally.
I peer over at Hannah and the natural smile she wears is still there, it always is. She doesn’t mind if I share our story, she was an open book before the accident and even more so after. I’m just the one always having to answer for it, in more ways than one.
She points her index finger to her chin pushing it forward, signing for me to tell him.
He watches Hannah sign the words, a little tip in his brow, before his eyes land back on mine. “We were in a car accident,” I respond with nothing more because I’m unsure of how much more I want to say.
Especially when Mister GQ model of the year over here is looking at me with intensity and concerned curiosity.
He gives me a slow, lengthy nod then turns around toward his bed sensing my irritation.
Hannah gives me an annoyed you know better look before stepping back, grabbing her bag and tossing it on the top bunk. She signs to me that she’s going to the bathroom, kisses me on the cheek, then heads out of the room.
I watch her in awe, so proud of everything she’s done to rebuild herself and keep that bubbly personality she’s always had. She hasn’t let the circumstances change her or the drive she’s had. And scar or not, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
“Are you a bottom?” Dane asks and I whiplash my face in his direction.
“Excuse me?” I respond with an incredulous tone.
“Do you like the bottom?” He dips his chin in the direction of the bottom bunk.
“Oh.” I laugh out a breath. “Yeah usually. I tend to move around a lot and she sleeps like the dead.”
The corner of his lip quirks up. “I’m a top and a bottom. I like both, depending on my mood.”
What the hell are we talking about right now?
Is this the encrypted language of sexual innuendos?
Did he just tell me he’s bi?
My cock twitches at the thought and I have to avert my gaze away from his because it’s lighting every cell in my body on fire.
I’m still riding the high from the glory hole earlier and I haven’t had a moment to process anything. Desire. Shame. Need. Regret. It’s like they’re all battling each other and my mind can’t settle on just accepting it for what I know it was.
One of the most erotic sexual experiences of my life.
Sex with Hannah is amazing. It always has been, but she knows about my curiosity.
She suggested a glory hole because of its anonymity. She thought maybe it would help me get past my own self doubts and insecurities about being with a man.
She was right. The moment I saw that guy in the other room and I knew he didn’t know who I was, nothing else mattered.
I was in the moment and not in my head and all of it felt unbelievable.
The way he sucked the soul from my cock should have been illegal and probably is in certain countries.
I can’t think of that now and sport a huge boner in front of my roommate for…I wonder how long he’s here for?
“So, how long are you and Hannah staying here?” he asks, as if he was reading my thoughts.
“Five days. It’s the final stop in our trip. You?” I ask.
“Same,” he replies quickly, grabbing a baguette out of his backpack.
The harsh brown paper crinkles loudly in his hands as he tears off a piece of the crunchy bread and tosses it in his mouth.
“Plain bread as a snack?” My brows pinch together as I judge his food choice even though I like the way his mouth moves when he chews on it.
His eyes widen before he repeats my words. “Plain bread? Plain bread? There’s no such thing as plain bread in Paris.”
Just then, Hannah walks through the door, shutting it behind her and walks toward me.
“Hannah, come here,” Dane says excitedly.
She stops, her eyes looking suspiciously between us then takes a step closer to him.
“Your boyfriend is judging my snack choice. You need to tell him how good it is.”
She smiles and nods, giving him a look like her favorite thing to do is give me a hard time.
He takes a step toward her. “Close your eyes.”