“Say it, Cherry. Tell me how much you love it, and I’ll give you what you need.”
Licking my swollen lips, I look up at him, his face a collection of shadows in the dim light. “I love it, Ethan. Fuck me with those long fingers, and then shove your fat cock into me.”
His breath leaves with a gust. “Well played, darlin’.” He plunges deep, hard, and there. That’s all it takes to set me off. The orgasm rushes over me so fast, I suck in breaths like I’m drowning.
Ethan works his fingers slow and steady, his other hand cupping my neck, his lips coasting over mine as if he wants to drink up my pleasure.
And when I finally relax against him, my body limp and spent, he pulls his fingers out and lifts them to his lips to suck them clean. “Sweetest thing I’ve had in my mouth all night.”
A weak laugh escapes me. “I’ve created a monster.”
Ethan just grins wider before turning his attention to the little control panel beside my head. “Watch carefully now.” He moves to punch in a number, but I stop him with a little cry.
“This is your house? We were going at it right in front of your house?”
He doesn’t stop smiling. “You sound annoyed.”
“Well…” I’m flustered. “Why didn’t we go in? You know…” My cheeks heat. “Before.” I don’t even know why I’m being prudish. I certainly didn’t mind.
A laugh rumbles in his chest, and he gives me a look as if he is thinking the same thing. “That was the plan. But then I felt your sweet body against mine, and it was all over.”
Biting his lower lip as if to keep from smiling any longer, he punches in the code: 11-55-88. The door clicks open. “Did you get it?”
“Yes.” I force myself to stand taller.
“Good.” He nods toward the panel. “Remember it. Any time you want to come here, my house is open to you. Any time, Fi. For as long as you want.”
The back of my throat tickles. I stare up at him, struck dumb and only able to squeeze his big hand with my much smaller one. It feels momentous, what he’s done. Huge. The kind of commitment that speaks of permanence.
It’s terrifying and wonderful all in one breath. So I say the only thing I can. “Am I wrong, or wasn’t Gray’s college jersey number eighty-eight?”
Ethan blinks, clearly expecting something else, but he nods. “Yep. Drew’s was eleven. Mine was, and still is, fifty-five.”
“Aww. Aren’t you cute?” He’s perfect. And mine.
“It’s easy to remember,” he says gruffly. “Now let’s get inside.”
* * *
Fiona
The door to Ethan’s house opens to a little carriage way, lit by an overhead wrought-iron lantern. We follow the path to a private courtyard.
“Wow,” I say as we walk farther into it. “This is beautiful.”
Frosted globe lanterns are hung across the yard. Little lights twinkle in the ivy-covered walls surrounding a garden of crepe myrtle and various palms. In the center, an ornate fountain runs.
“It came like this,” Dex says at my elbow. He glances around as if seeing it from my eyes. A loggia covered in bougainvillea shelters a double-wide lounger. There’s a massive tractor tire to one side of the courtyard. As in, it’s as wide as I am tall. His lips quirk at the sight of it. “Well, except for the tire.”
“You gonna tell me what’s up with the tire?”
He ducks his head and scratches the back of his neck. “I whack it with a sledgehammer. Sometimes I flip it.”
“Oh, sure. Because why not?”
“Does the job. But that’s for off-season training.” So nonchalant. But he can’t really hide his smug grin.
“That’s got to weigh, what?”
He shrugs his massive shoulders. “A thousand pounds.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Get the hell out.”
Dex winks. “JJ Watt does it, so I do it too. No way am I going to be caught with my dick in the wind facing one of those defensive linemen coming at me like a tank.”
As unassuming as Dex can be, he’s also fiercely competitive.