Page 16 of Ethan's Sky

No! Damnit, Sky! Focus!

A wave of sadness hits me as I remember I’ll never know what it feels like for him to want me again.

“Ethan! Stand the fuck down!” Gabe shouts as he stalks his way across the room to where we’re facing off.

Oh, here we go. The president to the rescue of the needy little girl.

My eyes roll of their own accord. This is becoming a habit really. When will they learn I’m a big girl. I can speak for myself. I don’t need them to do all this macho bolstering bullshit.

Gabe’s voice is threatening enough to snap Ethan out of ourglaring contest, but he doesn’t drop his eyes completely. Ethan takes two steps back but doesn’t relax in the slightest. His shoulders are bunched. He doesn’t want to let up, but he’s not stupid enough to disobey Gabe.

His president won’t hesitate to put him on his ass, and Ethan would have no choice but to let him if he wants to keep the beloved patch on his back.

Ethan relaxes his stance enough to lean back on his heels, and his arms are still at his sides as he clenches and unclenches his fists repeatedly. If I didn’t know him as well as I do, I would fear for these men in front of me and myself. But no matter how angry he is, Ethan will not go against his brothers. He won’t do anything he knows could cost him his patch. These men, this family, is all he believes he has in this world. And for that reason alone, they have his complete, undisputable loyalty. Even if it seems he doesn’t have theirs.

They were there for him when his world went to shit.

I was nowhere to be found.

Not by your own choice.

But I went along with the decision, therefore he has a right to blame me to some degree.

I take a moment and watch him. Take in every detail.

I’ve seen him over the years from a distance, but not up close like we are now. Never this close. Not in what feels like forever.

Ethan’s always been tall. Well over six feet, lean and fit. The man standing before me isn’t fit,he’s ripped.He’s a trained fighter by profession and it shows. His shirt pulls taut across his broad chest and what I know are washboard abs. I’ve followed his fighting career as closely as I could from where I was. I know a little about what his body looks like.But damn!

His now folded arms pull the sleeves tight across his bulging biceps. With his leather cut and loose fit dark wash jeans, dark hair, and light scruff, he’s beautiful.

In a rugged, psycho-crazed-biker sort of way.

Even with his pissed off scowl, he’s every woman’s walking fantasy.

He’s always beenmyfantasy. Even before he became a member of the Kings. When he was just a teenage boy with dreams of becoming a fighter with half the muscle mass, and the desire to make a name for himself. He checked off every one of my boxes.

Though, I must admit, the scruffy, bad boy biker is a great look on him and one I will be adding to my mental rub club photo gallery.

He’s so much like I remember, and yet so different.

But if I’m honest, he’s been starring in every one of my dirty dreams since I saw him at The Pearl.

The heated look he gave me had my body throbbing at the center and my mind conjuring up all the dirty ways Iknewhe could get me off.

Down girl!

He wasn’t looking at you like that. He was looking at Scarlet.

A girl can dream.

Now he looks tortured and a bit unhinged.

This is how he looks at Skyler. Scarlet is his fantasy. Skyler is his hated foe.

Everything within me is screaming, begging me to run to him, pull him close, and tell him how sorry I truly am for everything I had to do. For the hurt I caused him. The hate and accusation I see staring back at me in those whiskey brown eyes of his have me considering betraying the trust of those whose secrets I’ve kept, the ones that have hurt him.

Including mine.

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