Serendipity (23 page)

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Authors: Carly Phillips

BOOK: Serendipity
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“Hell, no.” She burst out laughing, taking him off guard.
He slid a glance her way before returning his attention to the road. With her unexpected smile and light in her eyes, he realized she was actually a cute kid. Pretty, even. He knew better than to mention it.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Then how about a truce for just one night? We'll discuss your behavior in the morning.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Only if we can talk about what I overheard too.”
He gripped the wheel harder. “This isn't a democracy,” he told her.
“No, it's a fucking dictatorship.” She shifted her entire body ninety degrees and faced out the window, turning her back to him.
He opened his mouth to tell her to watch her language, then shut it again.
He was done for the night.
They returned home. Rosalita was still cleaning and informed him she would stay until she'd finished some extra laundry she'd thrown into the machine. He appreciated her more than she could imagine or was able to express at the moment.
Without another word, he and Tess went to their separate rooms.
An hour later, Tess had finally stopped blasting heavy metal music, and the light went out beneath her door. He'd looked out at least five times, checking on her. He already knew he didn't have to worry about her escaping through the window. It was a straight drop from the second floor to the ground below.
He returned to his bedroom, washed up, tossed his shirt into the hamper, and unbuttoned his jeans, his bed beckoning. It had been a long day he couldn't wait to put behind him.
The beep beep of the door told him Rosalita had left for the night and he was finally alone in his house. He sat down on his bed and ran a hand through his hair. When his bedroom door cracked open slowly, he couldn't have been more surprised.
“Come in, Tess,” he called out.
“It's not Tess.” To his shock, Faith, dressed as she'd been earlier, which he for some reason found sexier than a string bikini, stepped inside. “Rosalita let me in on her way out.”
His heart staggered inside his chest. Putting up emotional distance was hard but necessary. “Why bother?” he asked coldly.
Faith shut the door to his bedroom and turned the lock, leaning against the closed door. “I was worried about you.”
He admired her courage. At his darkest, he wasn't someone to mess with. “Well, don't be. I'm fine.”
“You don't look fine. Your eyes are flat. Dead.” She stepped closer, slowly making her way across the room. Toward him. “There's no life, no twinkle,” she went on.
And she obviously thought she could put it back. A few hours ago, maybe she could have. Right now, he was back where he'd been ten years ago. Nobody could save him. Not even Uncle Sam.
“Your brothers aren't being fair. People change. I've seen how you talk about wanting a relationship with them. You're here. They'll come to realize that.”
“Don't psychoanalyze me or my family. You don't know anything about us.”
“True. And you knew nothing about me and my father, but that didn't stop you from giving me advice.” She stood toe-to-toe with him.
He smelled her fresh scent, teasing him, tempting him, making him want to lose himself inside her until he couldn't think about who he was.
But he felt the anger at Nash and Dare simmering inside him and he knew he wouldn't be gentle with her. He couldn't. Didn't have it in him to think about her when it was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other and get through the night to face Tess tomorrow. And his brothers the day after that.
So if Faith pushed him now, yeah, he'd take her up on what she was offering—but it would be sex. And she wouldn't like him much afterward. He wouldn't like himself either, but that was pretty much a given.
She reached out and stroked his cheek with her delicate fingers.
Fire licked across his skin.
“Someone has to look out for you,” she said.
He cocked his head to one side. “And you want that someone to be you? For the last three weeks you didn't want anything to do with me.”
Something deeper flickered in her golden gaze. “There's no way you want to have this conversation now.”
“You're right. I don't.”
Her fingers still touched his face and she cupped his jaw. “Talking's overrated anyway.” She leaned in, pressed her lips against his, soft and willing. Giving him the escape he desperately needed.
He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth. She moaned, her hands coming to his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she kissed him back, easing her body closer until her breasts crushed against his chest. Her thin T-shirt might as well have been nonexistent. He felt the rasp of her nipples and his body hardened. She sighed and climbed on top of him, bracketing him with her thighs, straddling him in heat.
Thrusting his hand into the back of her hair, he pulled her head back till he looked into her eyes. “Be sure, Faith.” Because this was going to be no gentle lovemaking.
“You need me,” she said simply.
He didn't argue.
She pulled her shirt over her head, baring her braless breasts. With a groan, he cupped them in his hands, dipped his head, and curved his lips around one distended nipple. Nipping, laving, losing himself in tormenting her. Her cries of pleasure aroused him beyond reason and he switched breasts and repeated the process, drinking in her taste and scent.
She slipped her hands to the waistband of his jeans and impatiently tugged at the zipper. “Help me,” she said, frustrated.
He gripped her around the waist and lifted her off him so he could yank her sweats down, gratified when her underwear went with them. Faith kicked the clothes into a heap while he rid himself of his jeans. With an eager smile, she wrapped her arms around his neck, clearly ready to climb back on top of him.
Instead, he turned her around and sealed his body against hers. His front against her back, he soaked in her heat from behind, his erection a hard ridge between them and he thrust his hips forward, immediately feeling her body tense.
“Relax for me, princess.” He slid his arm around her waist, letting his hand trail down her smooth flat stomach to her slippery heat. He eased one finger into her dampness, finding her pulsing center.
She whimpered and tried to turn in his arms.
“Uh-huh.” He brushed her hair off to one side, kissing her neck, dampening her skin, grazing her flesh lightly with his teeth.
Ethan couldn't take it anymore. He needed to be inside her.
Now.
“Bend over,” he said gruffly. Intentionally rough.
She hesitated.
He waited.
He wanted to shock her and he was sure he had, certain her ex-husband and past high-society lovers had never pushed her for anything that made her uncomfortable. He hoped like hell she'd comply because as much as he wanted her, he refused to give himself the pleasure of looking into her beautiful face while he lost himself inside her. He wanted release but refused to accept anything more.
She'd always been his shining star, the ultimate representation of all that was good. He didn't deserve her and had been deluding himself in thinking it didn't matter. Tonight with his brothers had proven otherwise, putting him back in his place. So here he was with Faith, pushing her boundaries, hoping she would run and prove to him he was the bastard he thought he was.
To his surprise, she suddenly bent over, holding on to the bed with both hands—taking his breath and humbling him at the same time.
With everything inside him, he knew he should run far and fast because even without seeing her face, he knew he was in trouble. She was offering herself to him, giving him what
he
needed.
A better man would call a stop. He'd never been that man, he thought, gripping her hips and thrusting into her feminine heat. From this angle, he was tighter, deeper, than he'd been before. He felt everything she was, everything she was giving him.
Unable not to move, he slid out, then pushed back into her, out and in, only to find her immediately picking up his rhythm, her gasps and moans telling him she was building to a fast and furious climax. She wasn't alone. He pumped into her, doing as he wanted, as he needed, losing himself and the painful memories as he found heaven inside her willing body.
She clenched her inner walls tighter around him, milking him for all he was worth as he came in one last, powerful thrust. And though she followed him over, she continued to shudder in his arms, and he kept up the tempo of their joining until he was certain he'd wrung every last contraction out of her body.
When it was over, he didn't allow himself to remain inside her or find pleasure or comfort after. He separated them, his earlier gut-wrenching pain returning, multiplied tenfold, eating a hole in his chest.
She'd come to him, but he'd accepted, planning only to use her body to find meaningless release. Instead, he'd discovered that with Faith, there was no such thing.
Thirteen
“Faith—” Ethan spoke, reaching out to her.
She shook her head. “Don't say anything, okay?” She didn't want him to speak and ruin what had been the most intense experience of her life. She'd have plenty of time to mull things over and ruin it for herself later.
Still naked, she turned around and met his gaze. His eyes didn't hold any more life than they had earlier, but she'd briefly taken away his pain, even if it had returned now.
Faith had no regrets. She did, however, have plenty of reasons why she now knew to stay away from this man, the feelings he engendered inside her, and the choices he compelled her to make.
“I should go before Tess wakes up and realizes I'm here.”
He nodded, not arguing. “I'll walk you out.” He bent down and picked up her clothes, handing them to her.
She deliberately kept her concentration on putting one leg at a time into her sweats and not on his magnificent body as they dressed in silence, neither saying a word.
He wasn't pushing her, choosing instead to withdraw into himself. She understood. After the confrontation with his brothers, he'd obviously decided he had enough going on in his life without adding her to the mix. She could definitely say the same.
She was glad she'd come to him and given them this one more night because there wouldn't be another. They walked downstairs, tiptoeing past Tess's bedroom. Funny, but already she thought of this as Ethan's house, no longer associating her old memories with these new ones.
They reached the front door and she turned. “I need to get into the house tomorrow or the next day with Nick. He needs to firm up some more measurements.”
“Rosalita's always here. Feel free to come by.” He paused, a frown wrinkling his forehead. “How did you get here anyway?” he asked.
“Oh, that's news. I bought myself a car,” she said, knowing she sounded ridiculously pleased by such a normal act. “I decided I was finished relying on others to get where I needed to go.” A sentiment she needed to apply to all aspects of her life from now on.
“Good for you.” For the first time all night, his lips curved into a smile.
She couldn't contain a grin in return. “Don't torture yourself, okay?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
“Don't worry about me,” he said, back to giving orders.
Unwilling to make promises she couldn't keep, she merely said, “Good night, Ethan.”
“Night, princess.”
She stepped into the humid darkness and headed for the car. And though he didn't shut the front door, keeping an eye out until he heard the beep of her car doors unlocking, the slam still reverberated in her ears. Because he'd shut her out as thoroughly as she knew she needed to close the door on her relationship with him.
The drive home was short, but her mind was finally churning with the thoughts she'd been holding for when she was alone. She pulled into the parking lot behind her apartment and rested her head on the steering wheel, mind reeling with how overpowering Ethan Barron was.
The men she'd dated and later the one she'd married had been oh-so-respectful in bed. Too respectful, never leaving her completely satisfied, yet she hadn't asked for or expected more. Despite that lack, she'd still turned herself inside out to make her husband happy. She'd buried her needs in favor of being the perfect lawyer's wife and companion, and on walking away, she'd promised herself that she'd never lose herself in a man ever again.
Then came Ethan.
She'd always been drawn to his hard edges and the bad boy inside him. But she understood on a fundamental level that her feelings for him threatened the identity she was trying to build and the independence she needed. She'd promised herself she'd steer clear, and yet at the first sign that he needed her she'd put her needs aside and gone to him.
He'd taken her, dominated her, and in doing so, he'd fulfilled a fantasy, one she'd never admit to a living, breathing soul. But she'd learned how easily she could submit to a strong, powerful man like Ethan. Though he and her ex-husband couldn't be more different, Faith realized now that Ethan posed that same risk—and she refused to lose her identity to another man.
Even one she was drawn to like no other.
 
 
After a sleepless night, Ethan woke up to face certain facts. Last night he'd let his brothers vent their anger, and though the fallout had devastated him, he had no choice but to deal. But he'd had no right to inflict his pain on Faith. It didn't matter that she'd come to him, cornering him when he'd have preferred to have been alone. Well, that was a lie. Being with her had been just fine, as long as it had been on his terms.

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