Page 78 of Rare Blend
“It’s a terrible idea.” His lips press against my neck before giving me a pinching nip. The combination of pain and pleasure is enough to bring me to the edge of combusting.
“The worst,” I moan.
Wandering fingers inch closer to the spot I need him, and he groans. “Fuck, Marisa. Have you not been wearing panties this entire time?”
“I don’t wear underwear when I wear leggings.”
He releases a frustrated groan, and I giggle, giving him another stroke, but my giggle morphs into a gasp as he slips one finger inside of me and then slowly spreads my arousal around.
“Yourpussy is dripping. Is this all for me?” he rasps.
I grind harder, letting him fill me more. “Every. Last. Drop.”
He recaptures my mouth with his, roughly, frenzied, and I crumble, relishing in the loss of his control. While his fingers curl inside of me, teasing me, his other hand slides into my hair. He gives it a firm tug and starts twisting it around his hand. Parting our kiss, he firmly pulls on the strands wrapped around his knuckles, causing my head to angle back. “Fuck, this hair. I’ve been fantasizing about wrapping it around my fist for weeks.”
I gasp, both from the dull ache at my scalp and from his confession.
Weeks.
My stomach flip-flops with anticipation. I don’t care where we are. I don’t care about repercussions. I can only think of what I need, and that’s to be fucked right here and now.
The same thought is apparently running through Ethan’s mind. He practically rips off my shirt, tossing it over his shoulder and exposing my bra. His eyes widen, taking in the sight, and I thank the universe I’m wearing one of my sexier lace ones. He drops the seat back, but rather than pull meagainst him, he forces me to stay upright, his eyes admiring me, drinking me in, before locking with mine.
“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?”
I swallow, feeling like he’s not just looking at me but that he truly sees me.
This doesn’t feel like a heated moment between two friends. It feels like the precipice of something deeper. Something I’m not sure I can handle.
Ethan, sensing my shift, brings his hand up and caresses my cheek. It’s such a gentle movement compared to what we were just doing. I search his eyes, looking for my fears reflected in them, but he’s unwavering.
“Baby,” he whispers, and I turn liquid. Sweet, warm liquid. “Tell me what’s going through that beautiful mind of yours.”
How do I explain that with every touch, every kiss, the less this feels like two people caught up in a fleeting act of passion, and more like the beginning of something real? Something that transcends attraction and hormones, something more profound. And it’s overwhelming.
“I…I?—”
My words are cut off by my buzzing phone.
I look away from him, already crawling off his lap. “I should get that.”
As I’m digging through my bag for the phone, every sound feels like a door closing. His seat locking upright, the ruffling of adjustments being made to his clothing. The rattling of keys. I’m too distracted to read the caller ID before I answer.
“Hello?”
“Hello. Am I speaking with Marisa Castilla?”
“This is she.” My eyes cut to Ethan as he hands me my discarded shirt, avoiding looking at me.
“This is Cherie with Skyline Solutions. Sorry to call at this hour, but I wanted to catch you before the day ended. We would like to extend an offer for you to join our team.”
She proceeds to explain the particulars about the position and that they will need an acceptance or rejection within two weeks. She then informs me an email is waiting in my inbox.
I feel Ethan’s gaze as I end the call. When I look to face him, his brow is creased and he’s nearly unreadable. Closed off once more.
“You got the job.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.
I nod, finally meeting his eyes.
