The Art of Ethan (15 page)

"I'm not.” She sniffed. Grace couldn't believe he did that. It was probably the most romantic thing ever. Another tear leapt from her eye as she looked at him. His eyes were sad, sorrowful. She breathed deeply.
Get a grip, Grace.

Ethan caught the other tear with his thumb. This was tearing him up inside. Grace had been nothing but giving to him. She asked for nothing. Now when she did, a reasonable request, he let her down. He should have introduced her as a friend to his family. They could have played up the romance at the wedding around friends.

"You're killing me here.” His heart was aching. Why? He had seen many women cry. Plenty right in front of him, usually because of him, and it never affected him this way.

"I'm sorry.” She took a deep shaking breath. “I don't know why I'm crying anyway. It's stupid."

"No.” Ethan's lips were back at her cheek now, peppering it with baby kisses. Behind the lust was something different. Tenderness, caring ... love? “I'm stupid."

"You are stupid.” She laughed.

"Thanks,” he whispered with a smile.

"No ... you're sweet.” She grabbed his face gently with her hands. The limo had stopped, and the driver was making his way to the door.

"I'm sorry. It's your birthday. We should celebrate. After all, you're thirty-five, and that's pretty damn old."

"I can't believe you just said that.” His heart stopped hurting. She was happy again. He was happy again. Ethan realized something right then. Grace was tough. She could hold her own, but deep down she was fragile. She needed to be handled gently. He planned to do just that.

Grace stepped out of the limo taking his hand. She looked at the building. Ethan started walking toward the side then to the back. It was an old building. She was curious about it, but he tugged her hand then led her with the palm of his hand in the small of her back.

Behind the building was a stairwell that led to the loft above the gallery. The old wood stairs squeaked beneath their weight making her a little nervous. Her legs would be tone in no time if she had to walk up them everyday. She smiled at that, knowing this would probably be the only time she actually came here.

Still, it seemed like such a weird place to live. Maybe Ethan didn't have as much money as Chase. Grace turned it over in her head.

It was a good thing she wasn't like Megan in that respect. She didn't care about finances. God, what was she thinking? They were friends, just friends. Two consenting adults, enjoying each other's time, conversation, and bodies. She hoped he would still want to sleep with her. She definitely wanted to sleep with him.

Heading up the long stairwell, Ethan for the first time in his life was worried about what the woman he was bringing up might think. He had money and most of the women he met in New York knew that, so they looked at his loft as a lifestyle.

An art thing, they called it. His Alamo of bachelorhood, they all wanted to conquer him, but Grace didn't know. Chase had never really discussed it with Megan, so she thought he was wealthy but not rich; though his flare and social status were more of a legacy than an earned placement among the wealthy and privileged.

What would Grace think? She wasn't much for art or theatre or any of the things he sought refuge in. His home reflected his personal style. Her home reflected her mother.

At the door, he fumbled for the key. He was growing nervous by the second, and her quiet nature was pushing him into an unfamiliar zone. He felt like he was seventeen again, before Maria, before he knew what to do with a woman. He sure didn't know what he was going to do with Grace. He knew what he wanted to do, but he wouldn't push her.

"I can't believe you live here.” Grace entered the loft. Looking around, she couldn't believe the difference inside. It was amazing. Masculine furniture, large pieces, nothing flashy, lots of open space, portraits and paintings were on the walls. It was very male, rich colors and strong lines. It was Ethan. He left his mark on anything he owned. “This is amazing."

"I don't know about that.” Watching her walk around the large open space taking in the paintings and photos on the walls, he realized Grace had probably read about art but never experienced it. She was also the first woman to bother. Most dragged him straight to the bedroom if they made it that far. “So, you've never actually toured New York?"

"I've never actually been a tourist anywhere.” Grace knew it sounded ridiculous. What thirty year old woman hasn't been anywhere? Of course, she had been here. The time she came for the emergency she had driven directly to the hospital then stayed by Megan's side.

"Even when I went to Florida with the girls for cheerleading, I didn't get to visit. Aside from a restaurant to eat at, I didn't see much of the place."

"That's sad.” Ethan grabbed the bag he had set down then punched in the alarm code.

"Follow me, my lady.” He headed down the hall.

Grace noticed he had set the alarm. It made her nervous. She rarely locked her door when she was home. Her mother never taught her to fear the outside world. The ocean yes, people no.

"High crime in the area?"

"No, but I can never be too safe these days. Stalker, remember?” Ethan didn't want to think about it. He locked all of Grace's doors when they were in North Carolina. It had completely freaked him out that the door was unlocked the morning he went jogging. It seemed that she only locked it when no one was home. That also scared him. Grace was the only one ever home.

"Am I sleeping with you?” Grace knew she left herself open with that. He would either break her emotionally confused heart or make a joke.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down. I barely know you, madam.” Ethan couldn't help it. The spat in the car must have left her unsure. There was no way she could be in his house and not be in his bed. He was already aroused and growing more so by the second.

"E-than."

"Where do you want to sleep?” Ethan stepped down another hall and opened the door on the left then the door on the right.

"I guess that answers my question.” Grace looked into both doors. The door on the left gave way to what could only be a studio. It was full of easels and various cans of what she could only guess would be paint from the smell. It was dark, so she couldn't really see. The door on the right was his bedroom.

Just the sight of the king size bed and soft white comforter made her belly clench and her fingers tremble.

Ethan led the way, flipped on the light while setting her bag in a corner chair.

"The bathroom is right here.” He opened an adjoining door. “And the closet's right here in case you need to hang anything up. If you want, you can use half of that top drawer.” Ethan pointed to the tall chest of drawers.

Grace was quiet and chewing her lower lip. He could see her pulse strumming in her throat. Was she nervous, aroused? For a woman, she rarely talked and that left him no choice.

"Please don't get the doors confused. You don't know how many times a woman has ruined my shoes in the middle of the night."

"Ethan!” Grace swung a playful hand to swat his butt, and he caught it.

"Thirty five of those will hurt.” He pulled her close to him.

"I really am sorry about what happened in the limo.” Ethan placed her hand on his chest, so she could feel his heartbeat strumming against it. Looking down into those hazel eyes, he remembered how lost he had been at the restaurant. He wanted to get lost again.

"No. I'm sorry.” Grace felt herself slipping into his eyes again. Her heart matched his pace for pace. The fact that he so openly showed her how much he wanted her filled her with a sense of power. “You have a wonderful family."

Ethan couldn't take the small talk anymore. He couldn't take any talk. Her soft voice was carrying over him and tugging at his heart.

He had to have her. He wanted to taste her again. He needed to feel her skin against his own. It was his birthday; she was his gift. It was time to open the present.

Grace felt his mouth silencing her. His kiss was deep and hungry. There was no mistaking what he wanted. His manhood pressed into her belly and strained against the fabric containing it. His tongue assaulted hers in a rush; then, he nipped and sucked at her bottom lip.

Ethan tried to contain himself, but it was no use. He had planned to undress her slowly, take his time. Those plans were now gone. Grace pulled his tie loose, and he felt ravenous. His hands worked quickly unzipping the dress. His mouth moved hungrily over her collarbone as his fingers slid the thick straps of the black dress from her shoulders.

The dress fell to the floor. Grace worked quickly but was no match for his lust. She had only undone his tie and began working on the buttons of his shirt. She felt the bra release from her back. She now stood there in a pair of silk panties and her shoes.

"You need to catch up.” He growled in her ear.

"Little help then.” She was breathless and wanting. His desire only fed her own, making her hands tremble and her breath shake.

He stepped out of his shoes and ripped the shirt right off his back. The sound of buttons landing and spinning on the floor startled Grace. She took a step back. Ethan pulled the T-shirt he had on underneath over his head, unveiling his massive chest ripped with muscle. The heat poured off of him in waves.

Grace took another step back and felt the edge of the bed on her calves. She pulled him with her by his belt at each step. Her heart was thumping loud in her ears. She had never felt so desired in her life. The man practically lived to tear up clothing when he was around her. It was intoxicating. She felt euphoric. Ethan actually got her high. Not that she had any experience with drugs, but this seemed to be the desired effect. Addicted, yes, she could get addicted to this.

He pulled the belt loose and unzipped his pants in record time. He grabbed both his boxer briefs and khaki pants removing them in unison.

"Now, who needs to catch up?” Grace teased. Her hands were gently tracing his chest and working through the valley of abs below. He wasn't a hairy man; in fact, he was smooth and sleek except a light trail that moved from his navel into the thicker patch surrounding his sex. She was tracing that trail when he interrupted her lustful thoughts. “I want to taste you again."

"Is that right?” Ethan licked his lips and pulled her up into his arms, pressing his right hand in the small of her back as he lowered her backward on the bed. She finally looked at his face again, and his mouth covered hers, his tongue dipping in dancing with hers. No way could she go down on him right now. He would combust.

As Ethan pulled his lips away, Grace realized something. It was important, given the current situation. Something she had forgotten about that morning in her bedroom.

"Ethan, wait.” Grace blocked herself by putting both arms against his chest and pushing hard against him.

"What? What's wrong?” His thick voice pressed into her neck. He slid his hand over her sweet flesh and pulled at the straining nipple making her gasp.

"I'm not on anything. You know birth control.” Grace closed her eyes and clenched her fists.

"I have condoms.” Ethan stretched over her reaching the top drawer on his nightstand. “Lots of them."

He didn't mean that the way it must have sounded, but it was true. It had been months, over a year if he didn't count the Chloe factor. He was used to buying them and one day realized he wasn't using them anymore.

He wasn't playing the field, having casual interludes. Thank God, because he felt as though he may need each one of them tonight.

"I have nothing.” Grace looked directly in his eyes. She didn't want him to ever feel tricked or trapped by her, especially when it came to sex. Her body felt ready to explode, but after the limo ride, she had to make him aware. “I mean nothing."

"Unless something changed in the past few days, I didn't think you would need to wear one.” He was a smart-ass, and he knew it. But damn, he was going to have this woman tonight if it killed him. The only thing that could stop him was her if she said stop or no. She was just trying to protect him. His heart swelled. “It's a risk I'm willing to take. Trust me."

His mouth covered hers before she could think of some other warning to give. Grace reminded herself that condoms are very effective.
Relax
, she said to herself.
Nothing will happen. You're being safe, just not super safe. It's a little risk, take it.
When Ethan's mouth clamped over her left nipple, she decided it was a risk worth taking.

With that, her arms slid around him. His lips slid across her breast to the other nipple suckling it harder, making her cry out. She never wanted to leave this bed. Never wanted to spend another night alone, yet it was inevitable. In that moment, Grace surrendered herself to Ethan. For one night, she would allow herself to live in fantasyland completely.

Ethan wasn't expecting the sudden change in her body. It was as if all at once she relaxed into him. Her hands were eager to hold him, caress him. He slid quickly down her stomach, pulling the black silk panties over her shoes. He wanted to tear them, but they were pretty, and he didn't want to tear up every pair she owned.

Her shoes were buckled at the ankle, and he wasn't wasting anymore time to remove them though the thought of getting speared by one did scare him a little.

His lips kissed a trail along her inner left thigh. The closer he moved upward the more unruly her legs became. Kneeling between her long lean legs, he couldn't help watch her. Her hands were gripping the bedspread beneath her. Her eyes were half closed, and the color was fading. Greenish gray, this was a good sign.

The faster he could please her, the sooner he could process this right out of his system. The actual sex would clear him of the lust. Then, they could be friends.

Just friends.

Ethan's tongue dipped deep into the swollen folds between her legs. She was ready, and he had barely touched her. The struggle ensued to keep her thighs from consuming him while he maneuvered two fingers inside. Almost as easily as he entered, her hips bucked and his name was on the air, her tight walls grasping his fingers holding them inside.

Damn, I'm good.

"I love to watch you come, Gracie.” He growled from the back of his throat as he looked up at her sated body. She was limp and lifeless, trying to catch her breath.

Ethan had pleasured many women but none this easy. Grace just seemed primed and ready. Like she had been thinking about it all day and just waited for his touch to release. He couldn't help himself. He wanted to hear his name on her lips. He wanted to feel her bear down on his fingers again, at least once more before he felt that same feeling on his cock.

Grace couldn't believe he still lingered there. She couldn't believe how easily he pulled her over the edge. He skillfully mastered her body, better than she had on her own. Grace pulled at his arms, wanting him over her, inside her. He had to be ready himself, yet he waited, and without warning, just as she caught her breath, he pushed her right back over the edge.

The second was almost as strong as the first. If she didn't watch it, she would never be able to settle for a lesser man in the bedroom. Who was she kidding? She would never be able to settle for a lesser man at all.

"Ethan, please.” She gasped for air and felt lightheaded like she would pass out if it happened again.

He moved slowly inhaling her scent. He wanted to remember every detail, every touch, every sound, every smell and taste. Her hands gripped his back and pulled him, her nails digging in.

"Hang on.” He groaned reaching for the packet. He tore it with his teeth, and unexpectedly she grabbed it from him.

"Least I can do.” Grace slid the condom on and rolled it down ... down ... down ... Damn. She swallowed hard.
I don't remember it being this big in the shower.
“He's a big boy.” Her voice was raspy and thick.

"I'll play nice.” Ethan wasn't sure why she said that. Yes, he was a little more than average but nothing to be afraid of. She hadn't mentioned it in the shower.

Slowly, he slid between her. He began rubbing the shaft along the folds, soaking in the heat, preparing her.

"God, you feel good.” His thoughts escaped his lips. She was tight, maybe she wasn't lying about the lack of experience. As the head tipped in, she tensed up.

"Relax, Gracie. I won't hurt you."

With sweet kisses to her neck, her temple, and finally her lips, she slowly relaxed and let him in.

"Mmmm. I, mmmm.” Grace couldn't put a word together as he sank slowly inside her. She wasn't sure he could make it all the way in, but when he did, she felt ... full.

The deeper he went the better she felt. He wasn't going to fuck Grace. He was going to appreciate her—like a masterpiece, living art. Her body needed only to be explored and appreciated.

He pulled her legs up, locking her knees with his elbows. He needed to keep those shoes at a safe distance. Plus, he could get a better view this way.