He didn’t say he loved me. But I hadn’t said it to him either. I knew he cared about me though.
He looked down again and picked up my free hand palm up. My wrist scar showed. The one I’m ashamed of and try to hide, but is impossible to conceal when it’s daylight and I am naked. He traced over the jagged line with his fingertip, so gentle it felt like a caress. He did not ask me how I got my scar and I did not offer to tell him. The pain of remembering, added to the shame paralyzed me from talking about it.
I had feelings for this man but I couldn’t share that with him quite yet. My indignity was too ugly and horrid to bring between us. Right now I just wanted to be wanted. Ethan wanted me. And that was enough to make me agree. Baby steps. I would accept his conditions for a driver, and he would accept my inability to share my past with him. We would go slow.
“Okay.” I leaned forward and kissed him on the throat above the vee of his t-shirt, the hairs of his chest tickling my mouth, his male scent already familiar to the point of downright necessity along with food and water and breathing. “I’ll accept the driver and you’ll tell me up front what you’re doing. I need honesty. I like that you are so blunt with me. You tell me what you want and I get it—”
“Thank you.” He started kissing me again. My coffee was set aside and the sheet was tugged away. Ethan pulled his shirt off and ditched the sweatpants and stretched out over me. I finally got a really good look at his body. Completely naked. In the light.
Sweet Jesus!
From his chiseled chest and tight nipples down to his impressive and beautiful cock, I was mesmerized. He was trimmed up neatly, nothing weird, just nice and totally masculine.
He stopped and tilted his head. “What?”
I pushed him back so he sat on his knees and pulled my own self up. “I want to look at you.” I trailed my hands over him, over his nipples and that V-cut which was so sinfully sculpted it was truly unfair to the rest of the male population, to his thighs hard with muscles and dusted with dark hair. He let me touch him and control the moment. “You’re so beautiful, Ethan.”
He made a sound in his throat and his body shuddered. Our eyes met and there was an exchange; a communication of feelings and an understanding of where we were heading in this force connecting us.
I looked down at his shaft, hard and pulsing. A drop at the tip confirmed how ready he was for me. I wanted him so badly I hurt. I wanted to give him pleasure and make him come apart like he did to me, totally blown into a million fragments. I lowered my head and took his beautiful prick into my mouth. I got my wish a few minutes later.
We broke in the shower too, or I should say I did when he propped me in the corner, dropped to his knees and returned the favor. The sex never ended with this man. And I was on board the sexy train right with him, flashing my frequent traveler pass. I had not had so much sex in—
Don’t go there and don’t ruin this time with him.
Ethan had a tattoo on his back. Right across his shoulders were medium sized horizontal wings. They looked a little Goth and almost Greco-Roman in their black inked starkness. I loved the quote underneath the wings. No more yielding but a dream. I saw it in the shower when he turned to get the soap.
“That’s Shakespeare, right?” I smoothed over the ink with my hand and that’s when I saw the scars. Many white lines and ridges. So many you couldn’t count them. I gasped a sharp breath, desperately sad to think about how badly he’d been hurt. I wanted to ask but I held my tongue. I didn’t offer to tell about my scars.
He turned back around and kissed me on the lips before I could say another word. Ethan didn’t want to talk about his scars any more than I wanted to talk about mine.
~*~
More than a week of nights at Ethan’s place and I needed to get back to my flat for other than a grab of fresh clothing. I needed a recharge in my own home. Ethan agreed to come over here tonight. I told him slumming was good for the soul. He teased me back, saying it wouldn’t matter as long as we had something to eat and a bed because we’d both be naked for his sleepover. I told him that if Gaby showed up he’d have to get dressed; that I wasn’t going to allow my roommate the chance to lust after my boyfriend’s godlike physique. He laughed and told me he loved the sound of jealousy in my voice. I told him to show up hungry for dinner and fully clothed. He was still laughing when we hung up.
I changed into some yoga pants and a soft t-shirt after Neil dropped me back home. He’d picked me up from the Rothvale, plus a quick stop at the supermarket for ingredients for the Mexican dinner I’d planned. Ethan knew that Mexican food was my favorite and I was determined to recruit him over to my team. On the menu tonight? Chicken tacos with corn salsa and avocado. If Ethan hated it then I would fix him a burrito. No guy can resist a burrito packed with meat, beans, cheese and guacamole. I hope. Brits were weird about food.
As soon as I got the chicken started and my hands were washed I decided to call my dad. It would be morning for him but he’d be at work by now and if he wasn’t too busy we could have a chat. I set my phone on speaker and dialed his office.
“Tom Bennett.”
“Hey, Daddy.”
“Princess! I’ve missed hearing your sweet voice. This is a surprise.” I smiled at my dad’s choice of name for me. He’d been calling me Princess ever since I could remember. And now that I was twenty-four years old, he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest about continuing with the nickname either.
“I thought I’d call you for a change. I just miss you.”
“Is everything all right over there in London? Getting excited for the Olympics? How was Benny’s show? Did you like how your pictures looked when they were blown up huge on canvas?”
I laughed. “That was four questions all at once, Dad. Give a girl a break would ya!”
“Sorry, Princess, I just get excited to hear from you. You’re so far away and busy with your life. The proofs you sent of your photos were magnificent. Tell me about Benny’s show.”
“Well, it was a success. Ben did well and the pictures sold. I’ve had some more jobs too, so I’m just taking it slow and we’ll see where this leads.” I was happy I could talk to my dad like this and that he supported my modeling. He thought it was good for me, unlike my mother who was embarrassed by her daughter posing sans clothing.
“You’re going to be famous the world over,” he said. “I’m proud of you, Princess. I think that the modeling is going to help you. I hope you feel that way.” He sounded a little off to me, almost sad. “What are you doing right now?”
“I’m making dinner. Tacos. I have a friend coming over in a bit. Dad, is everything okay with you?”