The Art of Ethan (10 page)

Later that night, Grace lay in the hammock out back. She was scribbling away in her journal when the weight shifted, and Ethan, fresh from his own shower, worked his large frame in beside her. She immediately dropped the book to the ground. If he saw what she had written, it would all be over. Somewhere somehow she had to get her thoughts on him out of her system. Writing always helped with that.

"This won't break will it?” He lay back nervously and settled in. “I love the night sky.” He stretched his arms above his head and folded them neatly under. “Don't you?"

Grace wiggled her way to a more comfortable spot. He was so damn big she could feel the entire length of his body along hers. It was a double hammock, but he seemed to fill most of it. The silk of her pajamas and cotton of his did their best to control the heat between them that dared to catch the hammock itself on fire.

"Okay.” Grace let out a deep breath. “I'm in."

Ethan smiled.

"Back story.” He started, “In Drama, Art, or Music just about any end product has a story behind it that no one but the artist knows, right?"

"I got a C in drama, and you don't want to know what I got in art,” Grace said quietly. He seemed to know a lot about the arts. “I like literature though."

"Okay, you live here. I live in New York. We've hit it off as friends, yes?”
She doesn't know about art. This will never work. My life is art. How can it be possible, she's a writer?

"Yes.” She nodded.

"So here, my dear friend, is my back story, no holds barred. I would never tell a woman I was trying to sleep with any of this, and I ask you to do the same.” Of course, he had never had a conversation like this with ANY woman before. Since technically he was already sleeping with Grace, what could it hurt?

"Well, I rarely tell women I sleep with anything.” Grace surprised herself with such a fresh statement.

"You've been with women?” Ethan looked at her as his eyes narrowed. That could explain why she hadn't thrown herself at him like every other woman he encountered.

"It's a joke, no. I've barely been with any men.” Grace laughed. If he only knew how little she experienced, he would know how ridiculous her statement was. Hell, she had only experienced the missionary position.

"This is serious.” Ethan smiled. Even from the porch light, he could see her face was blushing. She was trying to flirt. That reassured him. Maybe she
was
just shy.

"Must be the stalker thing?” Grace shifted to her side to look at him and lost all contact.
Damn.

"I was seventeen when I had my first woman, and I say woman because it was a thirty year old woman.” Ethan lifted a brow and waited for a reaction. She gave away nothing. “She was our housekeeper, and my parents were in Italy or somewhere, so she had offered to keep an eye on the place and ensure their two teenage boys did not throw a party."

"Go on.” Grace was interested and shocked, but she wasn't going to let him know that.

"Well, Chase had gone to bed, and I was watching TV when Maria appeared in the den. She was upset her boyfriend broke up with her. I listened, and then before I knew it, she was kissing me, and then...” He waited.

"Then?” The hammock swung a bit as Grace moved closer to him. The man was pure scandal, women at seventeen, stalkers now. He had her attention.

"Then, she taught me many things over the next few evenings.” He heard Grace gasp.
This was good. She was listening.

"So, I grew up, building quite a reputation along the way, and then I met this actress, Emma.” He took a breath. This was the short version. He skipped all the hound dog days in between.

"Your fiancé?” Grace knew how she left him, at least Megan's version.

"Yes, we lived in my loft with Chase. He was still there after college. She proposed to me, caught me off guard, but I accepted,” he said nonchalantly.

"Wait a minute. She proposed to you?” Grace could hear the disbelief in her own voice.

"Ugh, yeah, is that so hard to believe?” He sounded cross, offended. Why wouldn't a woman want to spend her life with him?

"No, I just imagined ... never mind, please go on.” She wiggled in the hammock again and set her chin on his chest while her foot now slid along his leg. She imagined Ethan making a romantic night of it all. She didn't want to admit to herself what else she had imagined Ethan doing.

"Well, fat lot of good it did to accept anyway. Within the week, Chase moved into his own place. Later I found out he had met Megan, and Emma begged me, no actually, they double teamed me to let her best friend Chloe take Chase's room until she could get on her feet again."

"Chloe?"

"Yes,” his voice drifted.
God she feels amazing, her chin, her foot, those soft hands. Stay on task.
“Chloe is a model. Well tries to be, she is only six foot tall and skinny, sick skinny. I agreed because she showed up with a black eye from an alleged boyfriend."

"Oh my.” Grace felt her weight and his slowly melding together in the hammock. Gravity did have its way like that. She had her hands over his heart and her chin upon them. He was warm and smelled so good. It was all she could do not to climb over him completely.

"So weeks went by, and Emma became weird. She accused me of cheating. She decided I was holding her back. She said if I didn't move with her to LA, then the wedding was off.” His voice was matter-of-fact at this point.

"I can't leave New York. My life is there, my business, my family...” He had freed his arms from his head and waved it in front of him as he explained.

"I understand,” Grace said softly. That was that then, no real reason to ever move past the friendship now. She would never leave her home, her legacy, her mother, but maybe she could still kiss him.

"So, long story short, Chloe was there when Emma left. She took me out like buds, got me drunk, then when we got home, well, she was there.” He stopped waving his hands and let out a remorseful sigh. “I always got the vibe she was into chicks but ... If I only knew then what I know now."

"Hindsight's twenty-twenty.” Grace understood. She had her own experience with that theory. If she had any inkling that Mitchell Patterson would fly her to Vegas then bolt, she wouldn't have wasted years with him.

"I tried to explain it was a mistake since I was drunk. She said it was no big deal, but then she seemed to be wherever I was, and things started disappearing from the loft. I kicked her out and had the whole place remodeled and re-keyed."

He seemed to think out loud now. “I never would have thought she could have pulled a stunt like the reception though. I felt safe there, amongst family and friends.”
Shut up, Ethan. Now is a good time to skip to the part about you should just act like my girlfriend.

"What happened?” she whispered. His heart was pounding. She could feel it. This is serious whatever it is.

Grace was leaning on his chest resting over his heart, which was beating like he was running in Central Park rather than lying in a hammock in North Carolina.
Should I tell her? No. This was not a thing a guy tells anyone.
His lips betrayed him. He trusted Grace. He didn't know why, damn it, but she opened him like a book, and he just read aloud. Megan and Chase knew Chloe showed up at the reception, and he had left with her. They didn't know why.

"She had gotten a date to bring her, obviously not invited. I remember she brought me a drink and introduced me to him. I was so relieved I toasted them and wished her the best. I felt free somehow, no more looking over my shoulders.” He swallowed hard. “She must have slipped me something because I felt weird, disoriented. She offered to help me out to a cab. I woke up the next morning in her apartment, naked."

"Oh my God.” Grace felt the tear escape her eye. He had been assaulted. A man had been used and abused. It took her back to Megan and the college incident, her cousin crying all morning in the emergency room in her lap. Grace had driven all the way to New York in record time.

It reminded her of Evelyn, her best friend in college. She had been abused by her own father. It left her bitter and evil toward men. Grace learned a lot from Evelyn, but she knew she could never completely give up on the idea of love. So many women had been hurt. Now, for the first time, she realized that women really did have the power to hurt a man, even one Ethan's size.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I told you that,” he whispered in a low voice.

In all of his life, he had never hurt a woman, not intentionally. What he did to deserve what may have happened that night, he wasn't sure. He didn't know if he had actually slept with Chloe that night, but he took all precautions, AIDS testing, and every other thing he could think of. He felt violated. Why did he tell her that?

"Because we are friends, and you can trust me. You can tell me anything.” Grace felt like hugging him, holding him. No wonder he was bitter toward women. They all trapped him in somehow.

She decided right then and there she would play the sequel to this romance in New York. If that Chloe character came anywhere near them, she would give her a good ole fashion ass whipping.

Her momma didn't raise her to turn the other cheek, and her temper came descended from some of the nastiest pirates around. This house had been in her family for generations. Maybe she was a bit more like her mom than she knew. She had never felt the urge to fight before, not like this, but the thought of another woman hurting Ethan made her fists curl in anger.

They lay there in silence with the crisp breeze washing over them. Grace stewed in her disbelief and anger that a woman would do such a thing. She had burned dinners and put way too much garlic in the mashed potatoes to get back at Mitchell a time or two but never would she do that. It was inconceivable.

"Ya'll gonna sleep outside tonight?” The back porch light flipped on and off then on again. Megan stood, her hair wrapped in a towel, and her hand planted firmly on her hip, looking at them like they were crazy. “Spose to rain tonight you know."

She had picked up her southern roots again quickly. She sounded so weird mixing her accents.

"Did she just say ya'll?” Ethan laughed. “I wish I had a tape recorder. No one would believe it."

"She's right. It is going to rain.” Grace pushed off his chest, picked up her book, and headed inside. Why did the fact that he noticed Megan's accent bother her? Maybe it was because every man noticed Megan. Not every man noticed Grace. Grace had always been jealous of Megan. She was cute, petite, perky. Grace was always just plain.

Ethan climbed into bed next to her. Grace was already sleeping. He had spent too much time talking to Chase. Chase made it clear that he and Megan had only hoped they would hit it off and be friends. They were happy for them if it was more, but Chase was cautious.

He reminded Ethan that Grace was all the family Megan had left. He reminded him that he was his brother, and he loved him and trusted him. He made it a point to remind him that he had a lot of history of women issues, and he didn't want Grace to be hurt.

Ethan couldn't help respect Chase. He was always diplomatic, using his head. Ethan usually did the same with women, but Grace was different. He followed his instinct, which led to her bed.

He spent a good twenty minutes just watching her sleep. Her fake tan had faded and left a creamy white complexion beneath a solar system worth of freckles over her face, shoulders, arms, and legs.

He hadn't seen her belly but felt safe she was full of freckles everywhere. The moonlight streamed in from a crack in the bedroom curtain cascading over her face and hair. He let out a low groan and turned his back to her. If he spent any more time looking at her, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself.

The next morning Ethan found himself again holding on to Grace, despite the fact that he started off with his back to her last night. Her hair smelled like jasmine, just the way the pillow smelled the first night he was there. He breathed in the aroma and closed his eyes with a smile. He could tell she wasn't sleeping. Why hadn't she pulled away?

A different smile crossed his face uncontrollably as he thought for a moment that a little lovemaking between friends wouldn't be such a bad thing. Then, he thought about the future. He couldn't imagine seeing Grace at a family gathering with someone else, kids in tow. He blocked the image before it could grow.

"So, what's your back story?” he said against the back of her head. His warm breath sending chills of delight down her spine, commanding her nipples to alert.

"It's sad really.” She was fully awake and had been for an hour. He had just woken up, but he made no move to retract his arms while she made no move to withdraw from him. His body radiated enough heat to warm a small village, and Grace relished the feel of him.

"Tell me,” he growled. “Everything. I want to know it all. Names, places, positions, everything.” His voice was muffled by her hair, but she understood him.

"Okay.” She giggled. He really played around like she had experience.

"There are three.” It was the truth. She was twenty-nine years old and had slept with three men.

"Liar.” He snorted.

"No, you can ask Megan.” She sighed. “Mitchell, Manny, and Brian."

"Go on liar.” He was sure she was kidding.
This body a temple?
Please, if he had known Grace before knowing she was Megan's cousin, he would have been on his own
Indiana Jones
exploration seeking out all the treasures that lie here. No, he thought about it, he wouldn't have. He wouldn't have given her the time of day. He wouldn't have trusted her then, but he did now.

"Manny was my first. Our senior year, Mitchell had dumped me for
two
other prom dates, and his buddy had pity and asked me to go with him instead.” She rolled her eyes at the memories, so young and stupid why did she keep letting Mitchell treat her like that? “Well, we went to the hotel parties after and got a room of our own. He was a virgin, so was I, but I wanted to ensure that Mitchell would never have the right to throw it in my face he was my first after what he did. So, we fumbled our way through all five minutes of it."

"Five whole minutes, must have rocked your world?” Ethan snorted. He smiled and drew her in closer unaware he was doing so.

At seventeen, he was well trained. He imagined what she must have looked like then, a lighter version of the lush curves he enjoyed so much now or a skinny little cheerleader. No, she would never have been one of those pencil thin girls.

She felt him pull her in closer, knew he must be drifting back off to sleep, so she continued on lightly.

"Then, Mitchell, in and out of my life since I can remember off and on over the years, finally leaving for Australia to teach something or learn something at a hospital there. He's a doctor now.” She laughed unnaturally. “And Brian was a college fling. I needed something to actually compare myself to."

"What?” he asked pulling his head up.

"You know, Mitchell had said I was lousy, lousy cook, lousy lover, and he didn't want to see if I would turn out to be a lousy wife and mother.” She realized how much anger was in her voice, but it was like a kitten purring compared to Ethan's morning roar.

"Who the hell does that guy think he is?” He sat straight up in the bed.
Who would tell such a beautiful and kind woman horrible things like that?

He turned to look at Grace as she rolled to her back. Staring up at him, she seemed confused.
Friends, hell yes! Friends don't let friends live life thinking they are lousy lovers.

Grace was not expecting his descent upon her. His mouth covered hers, his lips gently brushing against her own not kissing just brushing. His body hovered over hers, and she could feel the heat escaping his large chest and burning into her. His brown eyes were dark and intense peering at her.
Kiss me! God, what are you waiting for?

Take it Grace. Take a chance and kiss me.
Ethan waited.

Her lips sought satisfaction as if they were now independent of her brain's control. She felt them reach up and take hold of his lower lip. Her eyes now joined the mutiny taking place in her body, closing as the wave of fire consumed her.

That was all Ethan needed. She actually made the first move. Ethan answered her lips by pulling the sheets up with one hand and situating himself over her completely. Her legs parted, so he could rest himself between them all the while he engaged her lips, gently and teasingly.

He was no clumsy high school boy, and no selfish lover who had obviously not taken the time to stoke the fires of this flame.

Taking her lips more hungrily, he found she greeted him with equal pressure. His left hand twisted in the red curls, which spread across the pillows like the ocean, wave after wave.

She could feel him between her legs. It felt like the heat would just melt her silk pajamas. His kiss was so deep and passionate her tongue tingled sending waves to places in her body she never knew existed. His teeth clamped gently yet firmly on her lower lip in a playful nibble before pulling his lips from hers.

No, no, no. Don't stop,
Grace thought in protest and felt her arms betray her good girl image by pulling him right back down.

"Grace,” he said in a deep whisper, fighting the urge to follow her gesture back to her lush lips. “Let me please you."

"Then, kiss me,” she demanded breathless.

It shocked them both.

To his delight, she may prove to be more of a fireball than he anticipated.

Grace opened her eyes to find him taking her in, his eyes dancing across her face, his smile warm and inviting. She felt embarrassed she had blurted out her desire so easily. Yet, in that instant, he licked his lips and returned to hers, his kiss more powerful than she thought possible.

Hungrily, he began to explore her. His right hand now sought the lush mountains beneath her top. The silk fabric was smooth and made it easy to find the taut nipple beneath, crying out for attention. She gasped as he circled the nub. Freeing his mouth, he moved to her neck, his left hand joining the exploration. His kisses moved gently to her collarbone then up the other side of her neck. Her thighs began to flex and squeeze at his hips.

He knew she would be impatient since no one had ever taken his time with her before. He would draw this out until he could resist it no longer himself. His lips moved over her nipple, sliding gently atop the fabric enjoying the smooth feel and the heat beneath before his tongue flicked across the top. His hands pushed the silky fabric up and over the lush mounds of her breasts. There would be no scars here; these were hers. More than a handful, Ethan dove right in.

The way he was toying with her was making her crazy. She could feel a hunger burning inside, and she needed to be fed. Where did this person come from? Yes, Mitchell is one of three, but many times they made love, or did they? Grace lost herself in the flame again. Her shirt now well above her breasts, Ethan tormented her with touches, kisses, and suckles that had her controlling her volume and groaning in an effort not to cry out.

She pulled herself free of the top and tried in vain to get a hold of that deliciously large bulge between them. She had been with three men, but she knew without a doubt this one topped them all. Anxious, she reached between them trying to grab the prize.

"You want that?” he whispered and slid farther down her chest out of reach.

"Yes,” she said softly. She wasn't used to talking during this either. It was morning, so she could see him. It was a treat for her to see him, but it made her nervous because he could also see her. His brown eyes were solid and almost black. His warm body grew unbearably hotter, and those lips, soft and silky, pressed into her stomach. Then, he looked at her again.

"Not yet.” He groaned and positioned himself between her legs with his arms over her thighs holding them as his hands began to dance and play with the heat between them. Bending down, he inhaled her deeply, her warmth and excitement. She smelled good and sweet. The silk fabric already soaked up her moisture making him burn to taste her.

"I, I...” Grace protested. This was too much new territory. What does he think he's doing? They should be eating breakfast by now. Ethan slicked his finger across the silk pajama bottoms over her mound again.

"I'm not...” Her toes began to wiggle and scrunch. Breakfast. Oh God, Megan would be up soon looking for them at breakfast. “Aren't you hungry?"

He looked up at her realizing she was trying to escape the moment. No one had been here before?
Nice try
, he thought. There was no way he could turn back now, uncharted territory.

"Yes,” he said and pulled the fabric of her pajamas down. He was surprised to find under the silk pajama bottoms and panties a neatly groomed patch of bright red hair. He could have died then and there. She was indeed a natural redhead.

According to his cousin, Joshua, that alone meant she could be fire in the bedroom. A relief washed over him that she was proud of being a woman, no scary Brazilian torture, yet the patch was not left ungroomed. His hands worked quickly and before he could control it, he had torn the thin fabrics free.

Grace watched as her pajama bottom and panties went flying in the air over his head. The tearing was animal and sensual. She almost protested, but his thumbs slid over her swollen lips and opened them for his perusal. Her head tilted back, and her whole body blushed. Aside from a doctor, no one had looked at her like this before, and she was embarrassed.

"God, you're beautiful.” Ethan groaned trying to maintain control. She was wet and hot and smelled so sweet he couldn't wait to taste her.

"I ...
Oh
.” Grace lost the words once he pressed into her with his tongue. Her thoughts just lifted right out of her body while something else settled in. Some wild animal took over her senses. Grace could feel him sliding over and around, his long tongue teasing her, tasting her. She couldn't control her own body.

She wanted to remain calm and ladylike, but her hips bucked, and her thighs pressed hard against his arms squeezing every bit of sensation.

"You taste so good.” He growled again. Looking up, he realized she had her eyes closed tight, her hands fisted in the sheets, and though her body was responding, she was hiding. “Look at me, Grace."

"What?” She panted. Look at him? She was seeing stars. How could she look at him?

"Look at me.” He licked a long lick over her. “I want you to watch me while I make you come."

It was almost funny, but she didn't want to laugh. She had never had an orgasm with a man before. She didn't think it was possible. Tears threatened to fall, but no way was she going to cry. Her entire body had awakened from his touch, like she had never been touched before.

"Gracie.” Ethan nipped her thigh, and she slowly raised her head. She was flushed pink all over. He knew she was embarrassed, and that ate at his gut. She shouldn't be ashamed of this. “Now watch."

Grace nodded. She would do her best to watch for fear he would stop if she didn't. Now that he had started, no way could she stop.

Ethan had to keep his arms firm on her thighs, which now threatened to smother him if he let them go. Her hands felt amazing in his hair. Her hips raised and lowered meeting his kiss. She was ready, and her legs were strong. He slipped two fingers inside and relished the sound of her gasp. She was tight and hot, like fire. It wouldn't take much more to push her over the edge.

He looked up at her, forcing her to keep eye contact with him while he suckled her clit and grabbed the ridge deep inside her. She fought hard not to say anything, and her eyes finally closed as her head fell back.

"Ethan,” she cried softly as her body rocked and pulsed around him.

That was easy.
She gripped his fingers inside with each long pulse of the orgasm. Her legs shivered and began to shake as he planted kisses along her thighs, up her stomach. He stopped at one nipple closing his teeth around it, sucking gently as he slowly removed his fingers from her flesh. Her swollen mouth looked primed for kissing, and he wondered how she was going to react to her own taste.

As her eyes, half open, watched this man work his way back up the path he had gone to drive her body to the brink and back, she fully awaited, anticipated, hungered for more. No man had ever caused her to orgasm. Sure she had made do on her own, but this was different, deeper. His hips pressed the weight of his groin against her. His pajama bottoms were still on though his manhood was escaping over the top. The feel of the soft head above the cotton that now soaked up her body felt sensual.