No One Else (The Ladies Who Brunch 2)

Chapter7

Amelia

Rattled from Ethan’s appearance in my office this morning and that kiss, I do my best to focus on my clients for the day, but I know that my brain is elsewhere more times than I can count. By the end of the day, I’m so on edge from reliving that kiss that I contemplate grabbing one of the vibrators I have in stock in my storage closet and getting myself off before I drive home.

When my last client leaves for the day, I lock the door behind her and slink down into my chair at my desk, rubbing my temples while wishing I was rubbing something else. Ethan said we would talk later, but I don’t know that I’m ready for that. I need to process what just happened, and I don’t think I can do that if we’re in the same room again so soon.

That kiss.

That was definitely different from the kiss with Brayden, weeks of tension boiling over as our mouths collided and our bodies touched everywhere.

I felt consumed by him—his height towering over me, his strength in the way he gripped my head and guided me against the wall, and his erection did nothing but confirm how much he wanted me.

I guess the good thing about the kiss is that I know the physical attraction I’ve been harboring for him isn’t one-sided. But now that we’ve played tonsil hockey, the next question is, what does it mean?

My door jingles as someone tries to open it from the outside but realizes that it’s locked.

“Amelia? Open up.”

It’s Ethan. I know that voice so well now, plus I was kind of expecting him.

“I know you’re in there, Amelia. Your car is still in the parking lot.”

“Shit,” I mutter before standing and making my way toward the door. “I’m busy, Ethan. What do you want?” I ask through the door knowing I’m safe as long as I’m on the other side of it.

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t think we do.”

He’s silent for a minute. “So that’s how you’re going to behave after this morning?”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and blow it out. “This morning was…”

“Incredible,” I hear him admit through the door at a volume much lower than before, almost as if saying it out loud makes it more real.

And he’s right. That kiss was incredible.

“Ethan, this is too much.”

“Just open the door, Amelia. Please. I promise I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable. I just want to make sure you understand something.”

Biting my lip, I contemplate remaining silent and answering him that way. But I also know that I’m an adult and need to face this head-on. Ethan makes me act out of character, so I should take the moments where I feel in control and use that to make sure he understands exactly who I am and what I’m willing to put up with.

Reluctantly, I unlock the door and pull it open slowly, revealing him in his suit but with the jacket missing and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The crisp white cotton looks phenomenal against his tan skin and green eyes, his dirty-blond hair sticking up in disarray as if he’s been running his hands through it all day.

“What do you want to say?”

“Can I come in?” He peers behind me, searching for a client, I presume.

“Sure, but I can’t talk long. I have somewhere to be.” I don’t really, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Okay.” He steps past me, and I close the door behind him, watching him walk further into my office and using the moment to appreciate the outline of his ass in his black slacks. I wait for him to face me and say something first. “How was your day?”

“Um, well? I guess you could say I was a bit distracted.”

He sighs. “Me too.”

“Why did you kiss me, Ethan?”

He stands up straight. “Because I wanted to. I’ve wanted to know what your lips tasted like since the moment I saw you.”

“You sure had a funny way of showing it.”

“I know, and again, I’m sorry. But fuck, Amelia. You make me crazy.” He weaves his hands through his hair, the gesture making his biceps pop underneath the fabric of his shirt. My God, I’m guessing Ethan is hiding a muscular work of art under that shirt, and now I really want to see it.

“Ha. Well, you don’t exactly bring out the best in me either, Ethan.”

He drops his hands and rushes toward me, forcing me to back up into the door. But he doesn’t touch me. He just crowds my space. “You make me crazy, horny, and fucking pissed at myself.”

“What? Why?”

“Because the last thing I wanted moving to L.A. was to become involved with someone.”

“Oh.”

“But no matter what I do, I can’t get you out of my head. And I sure as hell want to kiss you again.” He reaches up and drags his fingers down my cheek, stopping to pull my bottom lip down with his thumb. “Do you want that?”

“Ethan…” I practically pant, my body’s response taking over as my brain begins to malfunction. I’ve been thinking about Ethan touching me like this for almost a month now, and suddenly it’s happening, and my mind can’t handle all of the sensations and thoughts slamming into me.

“I want to kiss you, Amelia. Again and again. And better than that,” he says, stepping in closer, “I want to do other things to you too. Can I ask you a question?”

“What?”

“When’s the last time you came?”

“You mean…”

“Had an orgasm, Amelia. By something other than your hand or your vibrator.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat as my body begins to overheat. I talk about sex every day, all day, but somehow Ethan asking me this question is making me feel like that sixteen-year-old girl again who lacked confidence in her body and in who she was. The mere mention of orgasms with Ethan is making me mute.

“It’s been…a while.”

“For me too.”

“What are you saying?”

Now he’s pressing his body up against mine again, and I know I should push him away—but again, brain malfunction is in full force. “What if we did that for each other? Made each other feel good and took out a month’s worth of aggression on one another?”

“Like friends with benefits?”

“If you want to put a label on it,” he replies honestly.

And then that malfunction starts flashing red sirens. This has disaster written all over it. This is exactly the type of relationship I would advise a client not to enter into because no one ever gets out unscathed.

“Can I think about it?” I ask, hoping that will give me the time I really need to process this all.

Lucky for me, Ethan accepts with a lift of the corner of his lips. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I know I’ll be thinking about it.” He backs away from me now, holding my gaze as the hue of his green eyes darkens even further. “Don’t overthink this, though, Amelia. We’re both adults. We can agree to scratch an itch and help one another out. Honestly, it sounds like a win-win to me.”

“Um…”

He holds up a hand, cutting me off. “But I want to be clear. I meant what I said earlier today. I’m sorry, for everything. I don’t want to fight with you anymore. I don’t want to make each other’s lives a living hell, especially not if we can actually enhance the other person’s life in a much different way.” He lifts one brow at me knowingly.

“Okay.” My brain has been reduced to forming one-word answers at this point as I slide out of the way and hold the door open for him. “We’ll talk soon.” Good job, Amelia. That was three words. We’re getting sharper by the second.

“I’m looking forward to it. Good night, Amelia.”

“Good night, Ethan.”

I shut the door after he leaves, locking it again and promising not to open it if he returns. My resistance against him began waning as soon as he touched me. My body came alive with a jolt of electricity that is unparalleled to anything else I’ve experienced.

Ethan is nothing but trouble, and his suggested arrangement reeks of it too. But I never was the girl who did things they weren’t supposed to. Trouble was something I aspired to stay clear of in every facet. But now I wonder if this might be my one-way ticket to the other side…

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