“Well, I did promise.”
She goes into the bathroom, and I press my dick down, trying to will him to back off a little. I’ve never wanted to fuck anybody so much in my life. But I also want her to feel as crazy about me as I feel about her, and I can’t be sure she’s there yet.
“I think I’ve passed the like stage!” I suddenly yell out.
She cracks the door open and looks out at me. “What?”
“You remember I told you I’m in like? And you told me you’re in like?”
She nods. “I remember,” she says softly.
“Well, I’m past the like stage,” I admit.
“Good.” She grins. “Because I am too.” She shuts the door, and I flop my arms out to the sides and stare up at the ceiling.
She is everything I never knew I wanted. And more.
28
Abigail
I close the bathroom door and sag heavily against it. I never expected my innocent question to lead to all that, what just happened on the bed. Could I even call my question innocent? It was more like nosy. It was me sticking my big nose in where it didn’t belong. But I want to figure out everything about him. I want to know everything, all at once. I want to figure out what makes him tick. And more specifically, I want to know what turns him on.
Honestly, the media, movies, and TV paint people who get out of prison as sex-starved maniacs. But Ethan has never pushed for sex. He’s never gone even a step too far. In fact, if I had to explain it, I’d say he never goes far enough.
Truth is, sex has never really been a big deal for me. It’s a means to an end. It’s a way to make harmony within a marriage, and it’s a way to ease stress. Sure, it’s nice, but I’ve never experienced the earth-shattering, soul-stealing pleasure that my friends talk about when we all get together. I’ve never had that, but something tells me that I could potentially have it with Ethan, and I want it. I want him.
When I get out of the shower, I wrap a towel around myself and apply a curl-taming product to my hair. My phone rings in the other room. I look down to make sure the towel has me covered, and then rush out. I find Ethan holding my ringing phone as he walks toward the bathroom door. He stops short when he sees that I’m in nothing but a towel.
“Can you see who it is?” I ask as I grab my robe from the back of the bedroom door.
He looks down at the screen. “Camille?”
A grin spreads across my face. I motion for him to pass me the phone as I pull the towel out from under my robe and tie it shut. He places the phone in my hand, his gaze so hot it nearly scorches me.
“Camille!” I say excitedly after swiping the screen to accept the call.
“Girl, you had better be glad you answered,” she says.
“Everything okay?”
“Well, I heard a rumor that you’re shacked up with some lumberjack-looking dude who raises attack ducks.” She pauses a beat. Then she says, “And I just want to know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Is it true?”
I roll my eyes where Ethan can see me. I cover the mouthpiece and whisper to him, “My best friend from back home.”
“Did she just call me a lumberjack-looking dude?” he asks.
I shrug. “I think so.”
But he’s not offended. Instead, he grins at me.
“He is not a lumberjack-looking dude, Camille,” I protest.
“Aha!” she cries. “So there is a dude.” She squeals, and I can imagine her kicking her feet.