Page 65 of Gone for You

“Did you see?”

“What?”

“The ice maker.”

She sits up. “You didn’t.”

“I did. You’re right. That’s the best ice on the planet.”

She throws the covers off and I hear her run to the kitchen. “Eth? Where is it?” she shouts.

“In the laundry room next to the utility sink.”

“That’s weird but whatever.”

Then… “OH MY GOSH YOU DID NOT!”

I hear squealing and more footsteps before she appears in my doorway, huge smile on her face, glass full of fountain pop and ice. I may have used my connections for the bar to get a small machine in my own house, but the expression on her face right now made the expense worth it.

She takes a big drink, slurping away. Her eyes roll into the back of her head dramatically before she rejoins me in bed.

“Ahh,” she makes a loud smacking sound, places her glass on the nightstand.

“Everything you dreamed it would be and more?”

“Oh yeah.”

Liv giggles, leans on her elbow and takes another drink then lays back down, tucks her hands under her head and faces me.

“Will you come with me to the wedding?”

“Of course.” My reply is immediate whereas her question was asked with hesitation.

I watch her lips lift into a smile and she shifts, wrapping an arm around my waist and tucking in close, resting her cheek against my chest. We cuddle for so long I thought she’d fallen asleep. She turns her head, chin resting on me. “Thank you.”

Leaning down, I kiss her forehead, lips lingering. She exhales and relaxes deeper into me. I rub her back from shoulder blades to hip, up and down, up and down. On the last trip down, my finger lingers, traveling right down the center of her luscious ass.

She bites her lip, legs spread apart as she pushes her center against me. A twinkle in her eye tells me she’s up to no good and her next steps prove that when the unmistakable feeling of silk wraps around my wrist that’s behind my head.

“My turn.”

I grip the headboard behind me and grin, finally understanding what all her squirming and excitement was about. “No argument from me.”

I also understand her anxiousness in wanting my hands to be released because as sexy as being tied up is, letting her have her way with me, it’s the most delicious kind of torture to not be able to take control.

Chapter 33

Olivia

I lostcount of how many orgasms I had last night. Between his office at the bar, his bed, the kitchen, the shower… I’m sore and am sure I’ll be walking bow legged when I finally manage to crawl my lazy ass out of bed. But for now, I’m snuggling in deeper because Ethan’s sheets smell like him and sex and since he brought me breakfast — which was actually more like lunch given the fact that we slept in until almost noon after a late night of rolling in the sheets — in bed along with my kindle, I’m basically set for life.

He told me it was all part of his grand kidnapping plan to keep me around forever and would be joining me if it hadn’t been for him scheduled to meet with a supplier. He was genuinely perturbed for having to leave but I promised him I’d be here when he returned. There was a spark in his eyes when he told me to make myself at home and with a searing kiss, I was left wanting more, but with the promise of what’s to come when he returns shortly.

Stretching my arms, a smile stretches across my face when I feel one of the ends of the silk scarf still tied to the headboard. When I asked Ethan what he had in his hands and he told mefun, he definitely wasn’t lying. Understatement of the century, actually. I’m not even sure which I liked better — being the one tied up or having complete control over him.

He tugged and struggled against the restraints and I giggled, loving every single bit of playtime and having him in the palm of my hand. Ethan is remarkably sexy. Everything about him screams man. His muscular arms, the dusting of hair sprinkled across his chest, the strong chisel of his jaw, and deep brown eyes. Except for his adorable dimple, that is. Which is absolutely my Achilles heel. Whenever he grins at me and that dimple pops, I turn to mush.

I think over last night when I was drifting off to sleep. My eyes fought to close, wanting to take in every inch of Ethan as if it was the first time we had been together. My blonde hair was spread over his body, his dark olive skin contrasting against my milky tone, my head resting on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. I could feel it joining in with the rhythm of my own. It feels natural, seamless, and it scares the shit out of me.

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