Page 115 of Rare Blend
His lips press into a smirk. “I don’t care where we sleep as long as you’re in bed next to me.”
Butterflies flutter in my chest, sending my heart into an erratic frenzy. “I can get on board with that.”
He swoops down, wrapping his arms around me, right under my ass, and lifts me into the air. A string of squeals and giggles fly out of me as he carts me into his bedroom and tosses me on the bed. I land with a small thud and let my arms and legs fall freely, giving him space to settle over me. His heavy body moves over mine, sinking me into the mattress as his calloused fingers glide under my dress. Did I purposely put on a dress not at all appropriate for the weather? Absolutely.
“No panties, baby? Again?” he nearly growls as his hands explore my inner thighs, teasing me by getting close but not quite close enough.
Squirming under him, my body searches for relief.
“Patience,” he tuts. “I haven’t fucked you in my bed yet, and you better believe I’m going to take my time.”
I sigh, letting my head fall to the side. “I’ve slept in it, though.” I offer him a mischievous smile and his heated eyes meet mine.
“Trust me.” He pauses, slipping a single finger inside of me. “I remember. I even had a key to your place, but by that point, rational thinking was out the window.”
I gasp both from surprise and from the way his finger is pumping in and out of me. “I knew it! I knew you knew about the keys.”
A knowing grin lights his face as a second finger sinks in. “Of course I know about the keys. I selfishly wanted you in this bed because I never thought I’d get a real chance. Best fucking night of my life until I got to kiss you.”
My back starts to arch off the bed as his fingers work in a delicious rhythm.
“Kissing me was the best night of your life?” I question, my words laced in obvious doubt.
His mouth runs down the length of my neck, scattering soft pinches. “Every moment with you is the best.” He stops his attack on my neck and forces our gazes to meet. “Like right now? Best fucking night of my life. You in my bed, under me, soaking pussy, I could die a very happy man.”
If I wasn’t already falling for this man, he has to go and say the sweetest things I’ve ever heard. Before I can think to hold them back, tears begin to well in my eyes. I don’t bother trying to blink them away, because even if Ethan wasn’t looking directly at me, he would somehow still sense my sudden surge of emotion. It seems he reads me better than just about anyone.
“What’s wrong?” The concern in his voice is so prevalent, it only makes my tears come on harder, blurring my vision. Withthe pad of his thumb, he swipes one away as it falls from the corner of my eye.
“It’s nothing,” I lie as I start to sit up.
He eases off me and moves to lie on his side, facing me.
He doesn’t push me, instead he waits patiently while I gather my thoughts.
“Here I go again, ruining a perfectly good moment.” I let out a quavering laugh, trying to make things feel less heavy.
Ethan cups the side of my face, gently using his thumb to rub at my temple. “Baby, tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s just that— It’s—No one has ever said such nice things to me.” Saying the words out loud feels like a whole different kind of embarrassment. He must think I’m pathetically sad. A sad, lonely girl. The thoughts are enough to force my eyes from his to look anywhere else.
Gently, his hold slides down to grip my chin, and he turns my head to face him. “Hey, I’m not feeding you a bunch of lines. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m a pretty literal guy and I don’t say things I don’t mean. You’re incredible, and I’m going to spend every day you let me reminding you of that.”
My head tilts, resting on his hand, and I close my eyes, nodding and breathing deeply. “Okay.” It comes out a muddled whisper.
He softly chuckles and shakes his head. “Well now that I’ve made you cry in the first five minutes of being here, should we watch something and relax?”
My lips roll together, biting my smile. “I would love to watch something.”
We crawl under the covers, my body draping over his like he’s my own personal body pillow. He doesn’t seem to mind as he flicks through the channels and his hand that’s wrapped around my shoulder draws lazy circles on my upper arm. We’ve done this countless times in the past few weeks—but not likethis. All those times spent putting distance between us seem silly when I can’t think of anything else feeling more right than being in his arms on a Sunday evening. Goose hops up on the bed and lies down at the foot, totally content.
“How about this?” Ethan asks. He’s on one of the Spanish-speaking channels.
“Another novela?” I tease. “I’m starting to think you like them more than I do. It must be all the ridiculous drama.”
He laughs, a low rumble. “Maybe I like watching you watch them.”
I angle my head to meet his gaze. “Say something in Spanish.”
