Page 24 of Play to Win
8
Everything began the moment Noah, Lance, Del, Rock and Jeret said goodnight. It was well after two in the morning by the time the bar cleared of all its customers and was cleaned to the guys’ satisfaction. Portia had at first watched with fascination at the collaboration between them and their staff as they worked to bring the place back to order after a very busy night. Then, feeling like a heel for not helping, she’d grabbed a broom that had been set on the side when one of the servers ran back downstairs for something else, and began to sweep the floor. She’d swept, wiped down the couches and stools with a damp cloth and loaded glasses into the dishwasher behind the bar as if she worked at Game Changers. And when Lance joked about getting her a t-shirt for her next shift, Portia laughed, enjoying the easy way in which this group had seemed to accept her. This time.
“Sit down,” she heard Ethan say.
He’d walked downstairs with the others to lock up after they’d filed out of the building. Portia could see down the stairs that the lights had been turned off on the lower level. Up here, the lights on the side of the cigar bar and in the center of the room were also off. He was telling her to sit on the stool at the bar where she’d sat when she first came up here hours ago. She did as he asked.
He went behind the bar to pick up a remote control and pushed some buttons on it. In seconds music blared throughout the room once more. This time it was a slower tune, a sexy song that she immediately recalled. Destiny’s ChildCater 2 Uwas one of the many songs burned on the slow jams CDs that Portia played as a teenager each night she lay in her bed to go to sleep. Those nights when she’d dreamed of having the courage to perform the same erotic dance that the members of the singing group had in their video, with Ethan.
He came around the bar and buried his hands in her hair when he stood next to her. The feel of his blunt-tipped nails scraping over her scalp was sexy as hell and sent tingles of pleasure cascading down her body.
“Chapter 8,” he whispered and lowered his face to hers. “Touch. Intimacy can be deepened through the art of touching.”
Her words. Ethan was once again reciting her words to her. They were familiar and at the same time unknown. Spoken in his voice, they were erotic and mesmerizing.
He cupped her face, tilting her head slightly so that she seemed to be waiting for his kiss.
“I’ve wanted to touch you for longer than I can remember,” he told her.
“Why?” she whispered and then quickly licked her lips. “I mean, why didn’t you? Back then when we were younger?”
“I didn’t know how,” he told her. “Or if I should.”
That was nonsense. In Portia’s book Ethan had known how to do everything. He’d always been so self-assured and courageous. Those were just a few traits that had drawn her to him.
“Now,” he said, his gaze falling to her lips, then lifting back to her eyes. “I do.”
“Then do it,” she said and heard the almost pleading sound of her voice. “Touch me, Ethan.” Because she really didn’t want to play any games or waste any more time. She wanted his hands on her, consequences be damned.
He moved his hands to slide along the line of her neck, rest on her shoulders and then move down her arms. When they came back up, he was unfastening the top buttons of the short sundress she wore. The feel of his strong fingers as they brushed along her skin was like heaven and when he had the three buttons undone and dipped a hand beneath the material to cup her breast, she sighed. It was the touch she’d dreamed about and so much more. The warmth that immediately soared through her body was indescribable and the knowledge of him holding her in his hand was intoxicating.
He wasn’t giving her words tonight. He was simply touching her, just as she’d described in her book. Wrapping her mind around the concept she’d written being put to action on her may have been the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced.
When he’d massaged each breast, giving equal time to each aching mound and their now stiff nipples, his hands moved to her waist. She gasped when he suddenly lifted her from the stool and turned her so that he could sit her on the bar. Her hands dropped to his strong shoulders, kneading them through the material of his shirt. There was more to Ethan than brute strength, she knew that. Had seen it tonight as he’d interacted with his friends and their customers. Yet the feel of his taut muscles beneath her hands was enticing, arousing.
Ethan flattened his palms on her thighs. They were half covered by the material of her dress, but a part of his skin touched hers. He moved his hands slowly, pushing the material up until it bunched at her waist. In a quick motion that she was certain he’d practiced before, he removed her panties, dropping the wisp of silk onto the stool where she’d been sitting. His hands rested on her thighs again.
The song changed to Usher’sBurnjust as Ethan moved his hands upward. His thumbs rubbed along her inner thighs as he applied enough pressure to have Portia spreading her legs wider. When there was no place else to go, he used the pads of his thumbs to press against the plump folds between her legs. She couldn’t help it; she squeezed his arms then yanked her hands away to rest them on the bar behind her as she lifted slightly to his touch.
His head was bent as he looked down at her. Heat infused her cheeks at the knowledge that he was staring at the most intimate part of her. His thumbs moved up and down the smoothly shaved skin for endless moments before finally parting her folds. Cool air hit her sensitive skin just seconds before Ethan pressed the pad of one thumb to her exposed clit. Portia almost leapt from the bar at that moment, her scream echoing along with the music as desire so quick and sharp caused her body to quake.
On a ragged moan, Ethan lowered his head and replaced his thumb with his tongue. For Portia, it was over when it had only really just begun. Her entire body trembled at the touch of his moist, hot tongue to the tight bud of her clit. An orgasm so strong it knocked the wind out of her then ricocheted throughout her body and left her panting.
But Ethan didn’t stop.
He moved his tongue masterfully over her clit, up and down her slit and to her waiting core, as he had when he’d kissed her mouth. Her fingers gripped the smooth surface of the bar as her legs shook around him. And just when Portia thought she would definitely come again, Ethan pulled back.
He looked up at her, green eyes blazing with the same heat that roared through her body.
“Stop me now,” he said raggedly. “If you’ve had enough, or if you’re done here. Stop. Me. Now.”
Permission. Another topic she discussed in her book with regard to intimacy and pleasure. The acquiescence of each partner came first with permission.
“Don’t stop,” she said with a shake of her head. “Please, don’t stop.”
Ethan moved quickly then, undoing the buckle of the belt at his waist and the button of his pants. Portia heard the rasp of his zipper easing down just as another song came on. This one was what her godmother had called an oldie but goodie, Prince’sAdore. She wondered briefly how Ethan knew all the songs she’d listened to while dreaming of him, but then she heard the tear of a condom packet and her mind was immediately back to the here and now.
Her gaze dropped to see that he’d removed his shoes, jeans and boxers and now stood with his erection jutting forward just beneath the hem of his black shirt. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel his hot hardness in her hands, but he sheathed himself quickly with the condom. When he was done, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to the edge of the bar before crashing his lips into hers.
