“Look, forget I asked,” I say as I wave my hand nonchalantly and stand as well, pretending to fix things on my desk while I feel him watch me. “I’m just thrown off today. I get it. You’re just being nice.”
He reaches forward and grabs my wrist to stop me from moving, and then I slowly lift my gaze to meet his. I can tell he’s struggling, that he has more to say, but all he does is stare at me, his dark-green eyes full of so many conflicting emotions.
I can hear my heart beating in my ears, my toes are going numb from the adrenaline racing through me, and even though I’m dying to hear what he might say next, part of me wishes we could just stay in this moment for a little while longer. Because the way he’s looking at me right now has me questioning how I could ever feel the same way if another man looked at me like he is—like I am his and his alone.
“I…I don’t…I can’t…”
And then my heart shatters a bit. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine, Amelia. Fuck. It’s…” He sighs. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this about someone.” He lets go of my wrist and then begins to pace.
“Felt like what?”
And then he’s spinning to face me. “Like I want to be around you all the time. Like I want to know everything about you. Like you’re the best part of my day besides my son.”
“Oh.”
“I told myself I wouldn’t do this again, that I wouldn’t allow myself to become involved with someone after Monica…”
“Who’s Monica?”
“My ex-wife.”
And like a key sliding into a lock, it all clicks into place.
“You’re divorced?”
He nods once. “Yes.”
I stand there, stunned, until I finally find a few words. “Now it all makes sense. How you were toward me in the beginning, why you have this hatred for what I do…but you said she’s not involved in Oliver’s life?”
“She’s not. She didn’t want to be a mom, Amelia. She left her son and me and started a new life without us, tossed us out like we were a meal she didn’t feel like finishing. And believe me, I regret taking out my issues on you.”
Oh God, no wonder the man is so condescending about my line of work and so guarded. “Ethan, I’m so sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry for me.” He shakes his head while clenching his jaw. “It was better this way, for Oliver and me. But fuck, Amelia, this is why I didn’t want anything more with you.”
“So, what are you saying?”
He stands still, time ticking by as he finds his words. “I’m saying I don’t know what I want anymore, but all I know is I want you.”
It’s not clear-cut and defined, but his words offer me a glimmer of hope. Taking a few steps toward him slowly, I watch for his reaction until we’re only inches apart. “I want you too…and Oliver.” His eyes close. “We can go slow, Ethan. Figure things out as we go, but I don’t want to avoid the possibility of what this could be because you’re scared. The truth is, I’m scared too.”
When his eyes pop open, there’s almost a clarity to them. “Why are you scared?”
Reaching up, I cup the side of his face. “Because I feel like you have the potential to break me.”
A huff of air leaves his lips as he pulls me into his chest. “I’m already broken, Amelia, and the last thing I want is to be responsible for making you feel like that.”
Relief and optimism rush through me. “You are not broken, Ethan, but we owe it to ourselves to see where this goes.”
Ethan doesn’t say anything else before he kisses me, pulling me closer to his body and burying his hand deep into my hair at the base of my neck. I love when he does that; controlling me as our lips move over one another and our mouths do the talking.
“This was not the conversation I anticipated having with you when I walked in here just now,” he says through a chuckle when we part.
“No? What did you want to talk about?”
“I wanted to make a list with you of all of the places in this office where I want to fuck you and then start checking it off one by one.”
Tossing my head back in laughter, he takes advantage of my exposed neck, bringing me back to his mercy very quickly as his lips move over my delicate skin. “Ethan…”
“Come on. Haven’t you ever wanted to have sex on your couch? I feel like that’s almost a required therapist fantasy.”
“I mean…maybe.”
“Fuck. We’re doing it then.” He pulls me by the hand to the back room in my office, shutting the door behind us.
“The front door isn’t locked, Ethan.”
“Yes it is. I locked it when I walked in.”
“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” I tease him as I push him back over to my couch, his hard body landing with a thump on the leather.
“All I’ve been thinking about since Friday night was having you again.”
I straddle his lap, pulling up the sides of my dress as I settle over his hard length straining against his slacks. “I’ve been thinking about that too.”
“And seeing this smile.” He traces over my lips with one finger. “Every time you smile, and I’m the one responsible for it, it makes me feel ten feet tall.”
Running my hands through his hair, I lean down and press my lips to his softly. “You make me happy, Ethan. A little crazy and frustrated too, but happy nonetheless. And alive.”
He chuckles. “I’m gonna make mistakes, Amelia. I haven’t done the relationship thing in a long time, and even then, my marriage was a joke. It wasn’t like how I feel about you.”
I slowly rub myself over him as he lets out a groan. “And how are you feeling?”
“Like if I could spend all day with my dick buried inside you, I’d be the happiest man on earth.”
“Is that it?”
He laughs as he grips my waist. “No. You make me feel hopeful, and awake—like I was sleepwalking, just going through the motions, accepting the idea of being alone for the rest of my life. But you’ve woken me up from my slumber, pulled me from the unmarked path I was on, and drew me to you. And I look forward to every time we see each other more than I ever imagined I could.”
Smiling and reeling from his words, I reach down and begin to unbutton his slacks. “I’m glad I can make you feel that way, Ethan. We don’t have all day, but we do have about twenty minutes together now. Care to use them wisely?”
“Fuck yes.”