Ethan stared at me a while before saying, “Maybe you should go back to being who you are and stop caring what other people think. You’ll always be impressive to someone.”
“Umm,” I needed to change the subject and get him to stop giving me that ‘I want you right now’ look. “What’s your favorite food?”
“It used to be steak, but I think I’m changing it to cherry bourbon pie. You want to tell me where they hide the recipe for that?”
“In your dreams! Pepsi or Coke?”
“Coke…McDonald’s or Burger King?”
“McDonald’s,” I paused, “but I have an endorsement deal with Burger King so you never heard me say that...”
He shook his head. “Starbucks or Autumn Wonder?”
“Autumn Wonder, but I won’t be going back in there ever again.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he moved to my side of the table. “Can I ask you something personal?”
Anything…
“Sure.”
“You mentioned being left at the altar the other night. Are you still distraught by that?”
“Ha!” I laughed. “It wasn’t a real wedding! The groom hated my guts. He was in love with someone else.”
“A fake wedding?”
“It’s a Hollywood thing. We did it for the press,” I shrugged and noticed he was getting closer and closer to me. “Are you always this inquisitive?”
“I’m just naturally intrigued. Where did you go on your last real date?”
Any closer and I won’t be able to control myself…
“London,” I sighed. “It was with the ‘didn’t-tell-me-he-was-married-guy’…He flew me on his private plane for lunch, took me on a tour of Buckingham Palace, and showed me a bunch of other sites.”
“Did you enjoy that?”
“Yeah, but only because we had to leave to get away from the paparazzi…I honestly wanted to go to the beach and see the end-of-summer fireworks that day, but that would’ve been impossible…Every time I go to the beach the paparazzi swarm me, which sucks because that’s my favorite place to go and the one place I don’t want their attention. Even when I go to the private beaches, they find a way to take pictures and...Never mind. Where was your last real date?”
“Nowhere,” he moved directly in front of me. “She canceled on me the day before.”
“I’m sure she had a really good reason…”
“I haven’t heard one yet,” he stepped even closer to me, gently pushing me against the table. “But she invited me to play clean-up so I guess I should be grateful.”
“You should…” I barely managed.
“I am.”
There was silence between us. I looked into his eyes, wondering if he could read mine, if he could see that I wanted him to kiss me, that I wanted him to slice the thick tension that was hanging in the air.
“Do you really consider this a date?” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Yes…”
More silence.
I leaned in to kiss him, but he picked me up and placed me on the table, tracing the outline of my face with his fingers. He ran his hands along my back and pulled me close to him—knocking a tray of utensils onto the floor.
I closed my eyes and felt his lips on top of my lips, his tongue softly searching for mine, his legs locking me in place on the table.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back—forcing his tongue to play second fiddle to mine.
I could hear myself moaning as he playfully bit my lip, as he slid his hands underneath my dress and undid the first snap of my bra.
I slipped my hands underneath his shirt and ran my hands across his washboard abs.
He started to deepen the kiss—kissing me harder, faster, not allowing me to set the pace, and I gave in. Completely.
He gently pushed my shoulders down, making me lean back onto the table so I was lying flat, and then he climbed on top of me.
Shit…This is NOT taking things “slow”…I should tell him to stop…after a few more minutes…
He and I were both breathing heavily, gazing into each other’s eyes, and before I could say anything, he swooped down and forced my lips apart again.
I tried to stifle my moans, but I couldn’t help it—I’d never been kissed like this before and I was enjoying every single second of it; his lips felt way better than I’d imagined.
Okay…ten more minutes…
I felt around for the button on his jeans and he deftly popped the last two snaps on my bra.
I thought I heard footsteps coming from behind the kitchen door, but I figured I was only hearing things so I kept my eyes closed as he continued to kiss me senseless.
“I won’t go any further if you don’t want me to,” he whispered as he slowly pushed the straps of my dress down my shoulders.
“I…” I couldn’t find the words to say because he’d started kissing me again. “I—”
“Pardon the interruption,” a woman loudly cleared her throat, immediately cutting our make-out session short.
Ethan abruptly ended our kiss and slowly moved from on top of me.
Oh my god…Please don’t be my mom…Please don’t be my mom…
I lay staring at the ceiling for several seconds before turning to my side to see who had walked in on us.