My phone rang as I was packing my overnight bag. I saw who was calling and looked at the clock. Ethan had said he would be here by seven to pick me up. It was quarter to right now. “Are you having second thoughts and crying off for our sleepover tonight?”
He laughed. “No chance of that, and I hope you have your bag ready, baby.”
“So why aren’t you here to whisk me away?”
“Yes, well I had to send a car to collect you. Some business-related emergency pain in my arse. I’m so sorry. The driver’s name is Neil, and he works for me. He’ll get you into my flat and I want you to just make yourself at home until I get there. Will you do that for me, my darling?”
“I guess so.” My mind was spinning with the implications of me on my own in his house. I wasn’t really scared, but the idea did not thrill me either. “Are you sure, Ethan? I mean—we can do this another night if you’re busy—”
“—I’m sleeping with you tonight, Brynne. In my bed. End of discussion.”
“Oh boy.” I smiled into the phone. “Can I start dinner for you then? Is there food in the house, or should I have your driver stop at the supermarket?”
“No need to stop. There’s food and even some things in the freezer. My housekeeper cooks meals and freezes them. You choose whatever you like—excuse me.” I heard muffled voices and Ethan speaking to someone. “I have to go, baby. I’ll see you as soon as I can get there.”
I said good-bye, but he was already off. I stared at my phone for a moment before setting it down, lost in the surreal, and feeling like Alice in Wonderland again. My life seemed to be careening in fast-forward with me unable to switch modes. I’d gone from single girl to girlfriend in just over a week with no sign of a slowdown. At all.
My phone lit up again with no screen ID on display. “Hello?” I answered.
“Ma’am, my name is Neil McManus. Mr. Blackstone instructed me to pick you up. There’s a black Rover waiting down at the curb for you now.” The smooth English accent formed the words efficiently.
Neil. I remembered what Ethan had said about the driver. “Sure. Be right down.” I slung my bag over my shoulder and made it out to the street at a quick clip. The car that waited looked exactly like Ethan’s Range Rover, but I skidded to a halt when I got a load of Neil-the-driver; huge, muscular, bleached blonde, spike-haired with very dark eyes.
“You!” I said, completely shocked. It was the guy with the Jimi Hendrix tat from today.
“Yes, ma’am.” He held open the passenger door for me, his expression giving away nothing.
“You were following me around today!” It was no question, as I am sure Neil realized. I dropped my bag to the ground, folded my arms beneath my breasts and went for a Mexican standoff instead. “Give me one good reason why I should get in that car with you, Neil.”
Neil smiled briefly and looked down to my bag on the sidewalk. “I work for Mr. Blackstone?”
I gave Neil my best stone face.
He tried again. “He will fire my arse if I don’t get you delivered to his flat per his instructions?” He looked back up at me, his dark eyes sincere. “I very much like my job, ma’am.”
My head started spinning with more wild thoughts of what I was doing, what Ethan was up to, how many people were involved in my business, and my list could have gone on and on. Man, oh man, did we need to have a discussion or what! Still, it wasn’t fair to take out my frustrations on Neil, who for all appearances was just doing his job.
“Fair enough, Neil.” I picked up my bag and got in the backseat. “But the deal’s off if you keep calling me ma’am, got it? My name is Brynne. And if Mr. Blackstone doesn’t like it, you can tell him that he can kiss my informal Yankee ass. He should know that American girls despise being called ma’am!”
Neil tilted his head at me and cracked a grin as he shut my door.
He started driving as I seethed in the backseat. The silence just irritated me, so I figured I might as well get it all out in the open. “So Ethan hired you to stalk me around London, huh?”
“Protection, ma’am . . . ahhh . . . Brynne. Not stalking you,” Neil answered.
“Protection from what?” I demanded. “Are you watching when I go for my runs in the mornings too?”
Neil looked up at me through the rearview mirror. “The city can be a dangerous place.” His eyes went back to the road. It had started to rain, and the buzz of the windshield wipers dragged rhythmically back and forth. “He’s just very watchful, is all,” Neil said quietly.
“Yeah, I know.” Ethan is watchful and controlling and more than a little high on the arrogant scale for my tastes much of the time. He was so in trouble with me. “So how long have you worked for him, Neil? Ethan tells me absolutely nothing, so I figure you can enlighten me.” I smirked into the rearview for his benefit.
“Six years now. We were in the SF together.”
“That’s Special Forces, right? So are you guys some kind of James Bond for the British government?”
Neil actually laughed and shook his head. “I can see why Mr. Blackstone keeps a watchful eye over you, Brynne. You have quite the imagination.”
“Yeah, Ethan’s told me that one too,” I said dryly.
As annoyed as I was with Ethan’s presumptions—which were well beyond out of line—I couldn’t really take it out on Neil. He seemed like a decent guy, and he had great taste in music. I liked him. Neil was simply doing his job. Whatever that was in regards to me.
Neil got the car parked and us into the elevator through the garage entrance. Before I knew it, I was inside Ethan’s gorgeous home again, just this time, without Ethan.
Neil had me put his number into my cell and said he would be close if I needed anything. “How close is close? Am I private here? You can’t watch me in his house, can you?” I checked his eyes for telltale signs of subterfuge. “Do not even think about lying to me, Neil. I will be out that door so fast Ethan will feel the wind ruffle his hair all the way from here to wherever the hell he is at the moment.”
Neil actually winced. “In here you are totally private. There are no cameras in the flat, but out in the hall there are. So if you were to leave, I will see you. I’m in another flat across the way. Not far. Mr. Blackstone really just wants you to make yourself at home.” He put his phone up to his ear and jogged it. “Call me if you need anything, Brynne.”
The door latch clicked and my protector was gone.
Well this was weird. Alone in Ethan’s home with my overnight bag and a scrambled head. I wondered if I would ever feel normal again.
First things first, I went to the fridge, took out a chilled water bottle and drained half of it. The inside of Ethan’s refrigerator was well stocked with plenty of fresh things to work with, so no problem on the dinner. I explored his coffeemaker next and started drooling. Very nice indeed. I set a pot to brewing and checked out his Sub-Zero freezer. Ethan’s housekeeper appeared organized to the point of labeled and dated frozen meals in nice plastic containers for easy identification. I passed on those. I wasn’t really hungry anyway after the massive Chinese lunch he’d fed me at his office.
I moved on to the bedroom and was instantly hit with remembrances of the last time I was in this room. I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of Ethan. He was everywhere even when he wasn’t. I stepped into his bathroom. The grotto shower of travertine marble was gorgeous, but that magnificent tub was a fantasy for a girl who did not have a proper bathtub in her flat. I knew what I was going to do first.
An hour later my skin was pink from the heat and soft from the bubbles. I’d dressed in my Jimi Hendrix T-shirt and a pair of Ethan’s silk boxers that were very swishy on me. I’d organized my purchases from Boots in a bathroom drawer, shaved my legs and slathered myself in primrose-scented lotion.
I wandered back to the coffeemaker and fixed myself a mug before drifting into the other rooms of Ethan’s flat. The home gym had a state-of-the-art treadmill facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. The view took my breath away. I love a city lights view, but I imagined it was just as spectacular in the daytime.
I found what I believed to be his office and turned the handle. The room behind the door was indeed an office. A massive oak desk anchored the room while the opposing wall held a panel of TV monitors and other high-tech equipment. But it was the wall behind the desk that really caught my attention: a saltwater aquarium glowed with light and colors and bubbles over the rippling water. I came closer and took in the rainbow of fish darting around elegant coral formations. The lionfish did not dart. He came up to the glass and fluttered an array of multicolored fins at me as if in greeting.
“Hey, handsome. What does he call you, I wonder?” I spoke to my fishy companion and sipped my coffee.
I ate a cherry yogurt at the kitchen bar and fixed a second cup of coffee. One whole wall of the main room held shelves of books. I perused his collection, which was eclectic to say the least. Classics, mysteries, mainstream stuff and tons of historical fiction filled out most of it. There was some military history and books on photography. A large amount on statistics and gambling too. He had popular fiction and even a few books of poetry, which made me smile. I liked that Ethan valued books.
I snagged a book of letters Keats had written to Fanny Brawne and took it into the living room to sit on the sofa and enjoy. I had my coffee, angsty love letters from a poet to his girl and the twinkling night lights of London displayed before me.
I spent a nice hour before I set the book aside. I looked out at the city. This was the spot where Ethan had undressed me, right in front of his balcony window. He’d stepped back and told me that nothing compared to the sight of me standing in his house. Oh, Ethan. I decided to text him: Brynne Bennett:
It didn’t take him but a moment to get back to me: Ethan Blackstone:
Understatement of the year! Brynne Bennett:
I had to laugh at the next part: Ethan Blackstone:
Brynne Bennett:
Ethan Blackstone:
Brynne Bennett:
That is Simba. I pamper him & he tolerates me. U 2 have much in common. His response made me smile. Ethan had a soft spot for animals apparently.
I fired back: Ur getting no more BJ’s just 4 that comment. 😛
Ethan Blackstone:
Brynne Bennett:
Never! Go 2 sleep my beauty. I will find u.
I got up from Ethan’s sofa and headed back to the kitchen to wash up. I cleaned out the coffeemaker and set it up for the morning. All I would have to do is start it. I used my new purple toothbrush and took the pill. The super soft sheets of Ethan’s bed smelled of him; soothing and comforting me in my solitude. I filled my head with his scent and crashed.
Firm arms held me. The smell I adored floated around me. Lips kissed me. I opened my eyes to the night and saw shadows. I knew who was with me, though. My waking was peaceful and gentle, something good, and for me, a totally new experience.
“You’re here,” I murmured against his lips.
“And so are you,” he whispered. “I fucking love finding you in my bed.”
Ethan’s hands had been busy in my sleep. I was naked from the waist down, his silk boxers long removed. Ethan was naked too. I could feel his hard muscles and solid flesh trying to meld with mine. My shirt was pushed up and my breasts were being devoured by his rasping lips, whiskers tickling the sensitive flesh, teasing my nipples with sucking pulls until I was a moaning, writhing creature beneath him.
I buried my hands in his hair and felt the movement of his head as he worshipped my nipples and plumped the weight of my breasts with his hand. He stopped and pulled my shirt all the way off and stared down at me, hungry and beautiful. The light from the master bath filtered in enough to allow me some vision of him, and I was glad. I need to see Ethan when he comes to me. It reassures me that I will be safe with him.
“Your bed smells like you,” I said.
“You are the only thing I want to smell, and right now I need the taste of you in my mouth.” Then he spread me wide and descended.
“Oh, God, Ethan!” The work of his tongue on my cleft, swirling and smoothing over heated flesh opened to him, switched me from sleepy to sexed in less than a second. I couldn’t keep still even though he held me down and open at the inner thighs. The orgasm came upon me so fast and so violently that I heard myself shout through it, riding his tongue like a wanton, my muscles clenching and throbbing in scorching pleasure.
Ethan growled against my pussy lips and pulled away, probably staring at what he wanted to take with his cock. He didn’t ask. Ethan took.
He lifted my legs over his shoulders and pierced me hard and deep. He made sounds as his cock filled me. I was pinned by his invasion while still reeling with an orgasm, so I could only hang on as he fucked me. The sex was fiery and demanding with him telling me how good I felt and how much he wanted me here in his bed and how beautiful I was. All words to bring me closer to him. More dependent on him. More tangled up in his world. I knew it.
Ethan made me climax again; nearly punishing strokes meant to claim first and pleasure secondly. But the pleasure was exquisite when it arrived simultaneous with him filling me up with his own explosive orgasm. I felt tears sliding down to the sheets as I accepted what he gave to me. He choked out my name, his eyes locked onto mine like the other times. I knew he saw my tears.
He moved my legs off his shoulders and propped himself against me, holding my face and stroking, his blue eyes searching, still buried in me flexing slow and deep with his talented cock, drawing out the pleasure. “You’re mine,” he whispered.
“I know,” I whispered back to him. Ethan kissed me reverently with our bodies joined; gentle explorations of my lips and feathery pulls and nibbles with teeth that only grazed. He held on to me and kissed me for a long time before he finally moved out of my body.
Fucking Ethan can only be described as beautiful in my head. I know to others it would be pornographic, but to me it was simply a beautiful act of us together. To be intimate like that with him wanting me so intensely was an addictive drug. More potent than anything I’d ever experienced before in my life. I think I could forgive Ethan just about anything that he might do to hurt me. And this was my very great mistake.
