The Art of Ethan (16 page)

Ethan took his time, somehow. Grace could not believe the level of self-control this man had. They had spent more time during foreplay than she had spent having sex with Mitchell anytime. Now, their bodies rocked and moved as one. He watched as he pulled out and sank into her over and over again.

He kept making eye contact with her and smiled when she groaned or gasped. He looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It was as if they had this deeper connection, binding them with each thrust, each kiss, and every breath to one another. It was frightening and blissful at the same time.

Her legs were lifting her at an angle that drove him deep. She could feel the climax building, the tension in her stomach, her legs unmercifully clamping around him.

"I ... Ethan ... Yes..."

"That's it, baby. I want to feel you come, Gracie."

Ethan felt her nails dig painfully into his back, and her thighs grip him with an unmerciful power that would break necks. She cried his name loud as her head pushed back, and she gripped him inside tightly, pushing wave after wave of pulsation around him. It was too much to bear. He buried his face in her neck and let go.

"I love you, Gracie.” His voice was barely audible. He was sure she hadn't heard. He hoped she hadn't heard. He must have been crazy to say it, but he felt it. For the first time in his life, he felt it. Now what?

Grace wanted to sleep. She was exhausted and delirious. She actually thought he said he loved her. Of course, it was at a moment when a man was likely to say anything to a woman. She wasn't certain, so she wouldn't say anything at all. She didn't know what to say. The thought of a man like Ethan loving her seemed so foreign. He may as well have said it in Greek.

His weight was resting on her, and his breathing began to grow slow and heavy. Very heavy, she couldn't breath.

"Ethan, you're crushing me.” Grace struggled to get her arms between them.

"I'm sorry.” Ethan rumbled. He was falling asleep. He kissed her neck, her cheek. Slowly, he pulled himself up and realized he needed to pull himself out. Gradually, he removed his member and reached for the condom.

"Be right back.” He was completely awake now and on his feet in a flash.

In the bathroom light, he examined it, broken.

"Shit!” he shouted. He knew that felt too good.
Tell her, don't tell her? Karma for that risk taking comment
, he thought. Great, all his life he was afraid a woman would try to trap him. Now, he had a sinking hope that maybe he planted a seed, one that would bind Grace to him.

He felt like a real ass for thinking it.

"Are you all right?” Grace waited outside the door. She needed to use the bathroom.

"Fine.” He grumbled.

"I need to go pee.” Grace pleaded.

"Oh, sorry.” Ethan opened the door but still blocked the entrance. “You need anything? Water? Sandwich?"

"Just the bathroom right now.” Grace was about to start the pee-pee dance if he didn't get out of there.

"Of course.” Ethan headed to the kitchen. He started pacing. All sorts of horrible thoughts were running through his head.
Odds, what would the odds be?

He relaxed. Thought about his brother, Chase has had this happen to him before but with Megan, and they are getting married. Shit, he tensed up again. Grace on the other hand was not going to marry him. Hell, three hours ago she probably wasn't going to sleep with him. He threw the condom out in the kitchen trash where she wouldn't find it and headed back to the bedroom.

Grace decided that since she was awake, it only made sense to shower and get all the sweat and slobber off. She liked having his scent on her, but it didn't seem ladylike to remain covered in sex. She stepped under the large showerhead, which now felt like an amazing massage therapist working her neck and shoulders.

"Nice isn't it.” Ethan stepped in behind her.

"I just thought since we were up.” Grace pushed her head under the shower, and all the curls began to spring to life again. “Are you an artist?"

Ethan looked at her puzzled. Didn't she know that? He hadn't told her because he figured Megan would have filled her in.

"You can say that.” Ethan lathered up.

"You live on top of the gallery. Do you manage it?” Grace rinsed off and stood to the back of the large shower facing him with her arms crossed.

"You can say that, too.” Ethan smiled. No wonder.
How would she have treated me if she knew how much money I have?
“What do you think I do for a living?"

"Well, you're obviously not a stripper because you shred clothing every chance you get.” Her foot tapped the water on the wet tile. God, he looked good. She couldn't believe she was standing here naked in his shower as comfortable as she was. She stood in front of this gorgeous man as if she actually measured up to his standards. Grace felt a new level of confidence, yes, but, Ethan, he was just beautiful.

"I left your panties in tact this time.” He protested as he continued to lather himself up. “What if I told you I am an artist, and this is my gallery?"

"Are you fucking with me?” Grace covered her mouth when she said it, something about him teasing her made her temper flare and her tongue loose. The F word wasn't something she normally said. She rarely said any curse words.

"Not at the moment but if you'd like I can throw you up against the wall and do just that.” Ethan couldn't believe her tone. She went from innocent sweet southern bell to a sailor on shore leave in no time flat. “I know how you like to be ... wet."

The words were raw and dirty, and she really wasn't ready to like them. She was a lady, not a tramp, yet as much as she enjoyed the sweet tender way he had treated her, something more carnal was rising within. Lust. If she could conquer this lust, she could leave, and they could just be friends. No more sex after this. One more time and that's it.

"I like you all wet, too.” Grace planted her hands on her hips and raised her brow to him. She loved the way he looked at her when she took charge in the shower. He was looking at her like that again. Her nipples drew painfully tight, and Ethan, she observed, grew hard again.

"One second.” Naked and wet with a boner sooner than he should have been able to have one, Ethan slid into the bedroom grabbed a handful of condoms and stepped back in the shower. Grace, still tapping her foot, still holding her dare, looked every bit as tempting as she had in her own shower. “This won't be gentle."

"Neither will this.” Grace stepped forward and tiptoed up to his lips.

They embraced in a dash of madness. Before any reason could take over, her thighs were resting on his forearms, and her back was pressed into cold hard tile. It wasn't slow and sexy; it was hot and lustful. They used at least three more condoms before either of them could move much less fornicate anymore.

"You are insatiable woman.” Ethan's breathing was slow and heavy as his eye lids closed demanding sleep.

"Making up for lost time.” Grace was exhausted.

All of the pleasure was now being replaced with pain. Her body ached. Her muscles were sore. Her vagina throbbed and pulsed with involuntary reminders of over exertion. She felt good just for keeping up with him, pushing him just as far as he pushed her. Ethan was such a sensual lover, making sure she came over and over again, keeping eye contact whenever possible, and telling her things that made her toes curl just thinking about it.

The phone rang about noon. Ethan and Grace lay in bed in their usual fashion.

"Grab that will ya?” Ethan grumbled into her hair.

"And do what?” Grace was still sleeping herself.

"Say hello for starters."

"Hello.” Grace answered the phone reluctantly. She was surprised he was asking her to answer the phone. Surely if another woman ... then she remembered he wasn't interested in other women. Then, her face frowned at the woman's voice on the phone. “Yes, he is, one moment."

"Who is it?” He refused to move. He could easily lay there for another five hours snuggled up to Grace.

"May I ask who's calling?” Grace tried to sound polite, but all things considered she felt jealous. Then, she felt embarrassed.

"It's your mother.” Grace couldn't believe the luck. Now, the woman would think she was some little tramp for sure.

Ethan laughed and reached for the phone. Grace tried to get up, but he refused to let her. She listened to his side of the conversation. “Hi, mom. Yes. Yes. No, no way. Okay. I love you, too. I will. Bye."

Ethan stretched his arm over Grace to hang the phone back up.

"She thinks I'm a dirty girl, doesn't she?” Grace was embarrassed and sore, very sore. Now that she was awake, her legs were aching, her breasts were tender, even her hands felt stiff. “She will hate me after the wedding, won't she?"

"No and no.” Ethan couldn't believe what they did last night, hell this morning. First, she had him whispering I love you; then, she had him on a binge. He was good, but that had to be a world record.

She was there, ready and willing at each turn, each position. He felt he had awakened a sexual beast that could not be tamed. He loved it. “Of course, my opinion has changed dramatically."

"What do you mean?” Grace laughed, and her stomach hurt.

"You almost broke my back, woman. That's what I mean.” Ethan laughed aloud. “You're like a sexual tyrannosaurus."

"Me? You kept challenging me. I just wanted you to have a happy birthday.” Grace forced herself up. “Oh, God, I ache all over."

"Me, too.” Ethan groaned as he sat up. Lifting a brow, he took a playful shot at her. “I'm getting old, and you'll be hitting your sexual peak soon. This will never work out."

"What!” Grace squealed.
So, it's like that, is it?
“You're probably right, you know. After all, now I have this wisdom, I should find an unsuspecting seventeen year old hitting his peak and just..."

"All right, all right,” Ethan said loudly drowning out her words. “I don't want to hear it."

"You started it.” Grace had moved to the duffle bag and began pulling out clothes. “What are we doing today?"

"What do you want to do? Wait, before you answer that, he's going to need a break.” Ethan watched her from the bed. He liked teasing her. Her reaction was fresh. This was fun. He could irritate her all the time now. Although he knew his body really did need a break, he was fully aware of her.

"Well, since you put it that way, maybe I should head home. I mean I only came here for the sex.” Grace slid her panties on. “These, these are new. You break em’ you buy em'."

"Whoa, yes, ma'am.” Ethan didn't want to think about Sunday. She would be leaving again. If he could only convince her that New York had so much more to offer than North Carolina ... In three weeks, she would be back here for the wedding. That gave him time to plan.

Today, they could just have fun. “So, you wanna take some tours? See a show? What?"

He was watching her get dressed when he noticed it.

"Shit. Grace come here."

Ethan was concerned, but she didn't know why. Then, he kneeled down before her and grabbed her thigh in one massive hand.

"Did I do that?” He examined the bruise on the inside of her left thigh.

Grace looked at it now. Without the fake tan, she was pale and full of freckles, but they didn't hide bruises. “Uh, probably, but I'm sure it was mostly because I would have broke your neck if you didn't hold it down.” She took a breath. “Sooo, I guess you can say I did that to myself."

"God, I'm sorry. I won't do it again.” Ethan was sincere. He felt bad. He had never left a mark on a woman, never been a rough lover. They played last night, but he still touched her tenderly. This was unacceptable.

"It's no big deal really. Same thing happens if I bump into something. I bruise easily, comes with the fair skin.” It wasn't a big deal. Especially now that she could see his back as he kneeled before her.

"Besides, it looks like you hugged a tiger last night.” She touched one of the scratches. She had never been rough in her life, but she held on to him like a lifeline, apparently shredding him in the process. “Did I do that?"

"Well, aren't we a pair?” Ethan stood and looked down into her smiling eyes.

Women were supposed to get carried away and claw you. Men should never leave a bruise on a woman, even if she would have crushed him otherwise. “Hungry?"

"Starving.” Grace could feel reality sinking in all around her. She really wanted to stay in fantasy world, but she would be leaving tomorrow then be gone for three weeks. Almost a month. A month without Ethan. It was hard to remember a time before him, and she now faced a month without him. “Should we call Megan and Chase?"

"No. I told my mother we wouldn't have lunch with her, or dinner. If Chase comes, she will kill me.” Ethan looked more like himself. A pair of cargo shorts, sandals, and a Hendrix T-shirt. “Besides, I want you all to myself. I will share you at the wedding."

"Aren't you greedy?” Grace felt casual yet stylish in her jean skirt and graphic T-shirt. “I have to straighten my hair."

"Why?” Ethan watched her apply a little mascara, a little lip gloss. Damn, she was beautiful. The cosmetics only enhanced that, making her long lashes even longer, her full lips glossy and wet. He felt his groin straining again. Yes, he could spend a lifetime exploring Grace. “I like it curly."

"Do you?” She wasn't sure why he was watching her put on makeup. No one other than Megan had really ever done that before. He wasn't afraid to tell her what he wanted or how he liked her in the bedroom or out, apparently.

"I mean, it looks nice straight. I just like playing with the curls.” Ethan felt a blush, another blush! Shit. She had him inside out again.

"Well, in that case, I'll save us two hours and leave it as is.” Relief washed over her. The time and effort it took to straighten her hair was more than she ever wanted to do again. Grace closed the compact and batted her eyes at him. “So, what do you think?"

"Beautiful, but I may not be the best judge. I thought you looked pretty good when you woke up with those dark circles under your eyes, too."

He knew it was coming, and, sure enough, she pinched his butt as he tried to leave. “Owe. I can't be in an abusive relationship."

"Well, it's a good thing we're just friends then.” Grace was happy, playful. She didn't feel like a supermodel, but she felt beautiful. She saw herself through his eyes, and he enjoyed her, studied her. She walked into the hall, painted her? The other door was still open, and Ethan had headed to the kitchen.

Grace walked into the room surprised to see her likeness on a canvas. The smell of paint fumed in the air. Easels were everywhere with photographs attached. Many of the paintings were of women. She glanced over them settling on her own. Was this some weird shrine to the women he bedded? Her heart sank.

"It's not finished.” Ethan stepped in the room. “I've only had a couple hours to work on it."

"Who are all these women?” Grace felt her stomach drop.
Please don't say lovers.

"What you think they're my lovers?” Ethan could see her face, her posture sinking.

She really didn't listen to him. He had said he loved her, played about a relationship, and she just noted them as friends though her body told him otherwise. Why?

"Are they?” There he goes reading her mind again. How he knew what she was thinking just baffled her mind.

"No. Of course not, well that one.” He pointed to hers. “Look a little closer at them."

Grace looked and some of the faces seemed familiar. No, some seemed very familiar. It was almost like she opened
People
magazine now. “Is that?"

"Yes."

"And that's.” Grace pointed at a well-known supermodel.

"Yes. That's what I do. I create portraits.” He sighed. “I did okay before Emma, but after her article in
Vanity Fair,
more and more celebrities began calling."

"So, your Emma is...” Grace turned and looked at a portrait that was separate from the others, on the floor rather than on an easel. Sure enough, Hollywood's hottest new starlet was right there. “You wouldn't move to L.A. with her?"

It wasn't meant to come out that way, but if he would say no to that, he must be nuts.

"She's beautiful."

"She's all right.” Ethan shrugged and stepped closer to Grace. He had the painting shipped, but Emma kept refusing it. When he met Grace, he knew exactly what to do with the damn thing. The e-bay auction would end on Monday. “Look at me when I tell you this."

He turned her toward him and realized she had no idea who he was, how much money he made, nothing. Every moment he had spent with her was real, not fantasy. His heart swelled knowing that she was real and powerful and his.

"I never really wanted to marry Emma. It was a relief when she left. I didn't think so at the time, but when she was gone, I realized I was happier. So was she."

"I understand that, but she is ... well, a star. Mitchell is a podiatrist, and he's short.” Why was she talking about Mitchell? “You can watch a short fat doctor leave, but a celebrity?"

Her lack of confidence ate at his gut, wrenching it. Grace was beautiful. In his eyes, more so than Emma or any other woman he had painted. Her features were alluring, her eyes seductive. Each and every freckle was like a homing beacon for his lips. She was living art and didn't know it.

"It's the same thing. Emma didn't love me. She loved the fact that I was an artist, a good lover, and that her best friend acted like she wanted me.” Ethan remembered that now. It was so long ago. Chloe had been there since the beginning. Emma had tortured her with tales of seduction and romance. Shit, why didn't he remember that before now? “I didn't love Emma."

"Women have a way of trying to use you, don't they?” Grace looked up at him. She blocked the idea of him touching another woman the way he touched her. She blocked the idea of him wanting her for the long haul because it was ridiculous to her way of thinking. She blocked it all out.

She had to put them back on the friendly track. Ethan confused her and made her feel things she never thought possible and not just in the bedroom, but the bedroom really had a way of softening her resolve. No more sex, they lived too far apart to keep getting sexually involved. God, she was with Mitchell for years, and he never spoke so openly about his feelings.

"Well, right now I must admit I'm one of them.” She fluttered her lashes.

"How so?” He looked at her seriously, studying her eyes. When he saw those lashes flutter, he smiled. It was becoming a personal joke between them—her big move.

"Well, right now I need lunch.” She smiled and watched his face relax. “Later, I may need dinner and later than that, dessert."

"I think I can deal with that.” He kissed her nose and pulled her into a warm embrace that felt more intimate and comfortable than she expected. “Let's go."