“I would’ve gotten you a whole bouquet, but I knew you wouldn’t be able to take them home. Break-up roses aren’t really a thing.”
She started to inform him otherwise when he placed a candle on the coffee table and lit it, tossing a smile her way.
“Wine, roses, and candles. I think I got everything on your list.”
“You better have condoms hidden somewhere.”
“Trust me, I couldn’t have forgotten those if I tried,” he remarked dryly. He went back to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of wine. After pouring some in each glass, he put it down on the table and sat next to her on the couch. “How’d the break-up go?”
“Much better than expected,” she stated.
“Good.”
“Everything okay with your family?”
“Yeah, I was just checking in with everyone. You didn’t say you were on your way back.”
Nodding her head, she said, “My plan was to sneak in and attack you with my mouth.”
Sighing heavily, he said, “I really like that plan. I’m sorry.”
“No big deal,” she said easily.
Since her plan had been thwarted, she leaned forward and grabbed the wine glass off the table, swirling the white wine briefly before taking a sip.
“Good?” Ethan asked.
Nodding wordlessly, Willow scooted closer, turning to face him and leaning in, resting a hand on his shoulder and pressing her lips to his. With the flavor of the wine still lingering in her mouth, she opened it, letting her tongue dart out to meet his. Ethan’s hands moved—one resting around her waist, the other tangling in her hair—and he tugged her even closer.
She loved how quickly her body responded to him. Already desire stirred inside of her, dancing its way up through her body. A shudder worked its way up her spine as Ethan’s fingers moved on from her hair, only to be dragged along her back. A faint noise escaped her throat and without breaking the kiss, her fingers began working the buttons on his shirt. Once they were unfastened, her fingers clung to the stiff material, and she pulled him closer until his chest pressed against hers.
Finally pulling back, Ethan murmured, “We should move this to the bedroom.”
A little smile made its way to her lips. “But our wine.”
“Fuck the wine.”
Willow grinned in response and moved so Ethan could stand. Immediately he grabbed her hand, tugging her to her feet, and her heart did a flip when his fingers worked their way between hers. It was such an innocent thing to get excited over, but it thrilled her just the same.
Once inside Ethan’s bedroom, he didn’t waste a second; his hands were on her, pushing her up against the wall and kissing her neck the way he knew she loved. His hands pushed at the hem of her skirt, and a few seconds later it hit the ground. Stepping out of it and kicking it aside, Willow peeled off her top.
Since the contact was broken, he made quick work of ditching the rest of his clothes and Willow grinned at his eagerness.
“Missed me, huh?”
“You have no idea,” he murmured, before coming at her again, that time clad only in his boxer-briefs.
The sensation of her fingers curling against his skin was intoxicatin
g enough—then he leaned in and captured her lips again. She was lost.
Pushing against his chest, she regretted the loss of his lips on hers when he pulled back and looked at her questioningly. Willow pointed at the bed, then made her way over, climbing on the mattress and absently brushing her hand across the tidy cotton sheets. She wondered if he made his bed regularly, or if he’d only done it when he knew she would be staying the night.
The prospect of finding out all of his habits made her grin.
“What?” Ethan asked with a little answering smile of his own.
“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Just happy.”