“Ethan!” I manage, pushing him back. His stunned expression is almost funny. My chest is heaving and my hands are shaking. Crap, this is hard. “We need to slow down and think about this for a second!”
“You kissed me,” Ethan points out.
“Yes, I know,” I say, running a hand through my hair. My curls are already hopelessly tangled. “I did.”
“Then I don’t see the problem,” Ethan says.
There’s that look in his eyes, the stubborn, determined look that says he’ll get his own way. Ethan has always been willful and unwilling to give up until things go the way he wants them to. It’s nice to see that expression on his face again, though not so great that it’s directed at me right at this moment, when I’m already balancing on very thin ice. I swallow.
“Things will look different in the morning,” I insist.
“I don’t care,” Ethan says.
We both know that he will care. But Ethan isn’t thinking about that right now. His pupils are dilated, his shoulders are tense and I can already see interest rising in his pants. It gives me a thrill to know that I did this to him, and I hurriedly stamp down on the feeling.
“Ethan…” I try again.
“I don’t care,” Ethan interrupts again.
He swoops in, bracing his arms around me, and his mouth is on my neck again…and I’m lost. I’m not strong enough to push Ethan away a second time, not when he seems so determined to make every dream I’ve ever had about him come true.
So I simply give in and fall into his arms, pulling his t-shirt up over his toned chest. If I can’t stop this, I might as well just enjoy it while it lasts, after all. We can talk more about the consequences of it in the morning.