My heart falters with the stinging ants of loneliness. A lump of emotion chokes my throat, blocking my breath. I pull on one of the new shirts Warrick bought me and pad to the kitchen on bare feet.
“Good morning,” I say to Ethan, who sits at the table with a cup of coffee. I stop in the doorway to yawn and stretch my arms above my head.
When I recover, Ethan’s eyes are lingering on my body, and another fluttery feeling rolls through me.
“Morning, pup,” he says in his growly before-breakfast voice.
“How’s your neck healing up?”
“What? This?” He points to the stitched-up gash on his neck. “Nothing whiskey and painkillers won’t cure.”
I head to the cold box they call a fridge and snag a piece of rabbit sitting in last night’s congealed sauce. I pluck the juicy meat out with my fingers and pop it in my mouth. Ethan watches my mouth with hunger evident in his gaze.
“You want some?” I ask, plucking up another piece and holding it up.
“Hell yeah, I want some of that.” He angles his chair away from the table, extends one of his long legs, and pats his jeans-clad thigh. His torso is bare, as usual. “Bring that bowl of rabbit over here, and we’ll eat it together.”
“You’re not mad at me anymore?”
“We weren’t mad at you, pup.” His lips roll between his teeth as he pats his thigh again. “It’s just an adjustment, having a sexy little thing like you under the same roof as us.”
I’m about to ask what that means, but when I reach the table, he grabs my hips, pivots me sideways, and pulls me onto his legs.
A yelp of surprise escapes my lips, but I melt a little when my arm connects with his warm skin.
He takes the bowl, sets it on the table, and picks up a morsel of rabbit. Instead of eating it, he holds it out for me. He pops the meat inside my mouth, leaving his fingers for a second so I have to curl my tongue around the meat and tug it free.
He lets out a little growl and then opens his mouth. I fish a piece from the bowl and slip it between his lips, my heart hammering hard for some reason. His teeth close around my fingers, and a wicked-looking smile appears.
“Oh!” I say in surprise, tugging at my hand. He seizes my wrist to hold it in place, and a look of mischief flashes on his face as he sucks on my fingers.
I close my eyes at the sensation of his hot, slippery tongue curling around my fingers. He lets out a low moan, and the vibration rolls through my fingers, up my arm, and down my body, settling in that achy pressure in my low belly. Something hard stirs under my bottom the same way it did when Callan was behind me. I slowly slide my finger free of Ethan’s mouth
and open my eyes. A smile curves my lips as I regard him. Maybe he won’t run away like Callan did.
“Now that we’re alone, I gotta ask,” he says. “What did you and Callan do after I passed out the other night? Because whatever it was, it’s got him all tied up in knots.”
I like that he’s thinking about the same thing as me. “He dyed my
hair.”
“Yeah? I like the purple. It’s sexy. Makes you look less like a kid.”
“I’m not a kid,” I say, lifting my gaze toward a couple flies lazily
circling the kitchen in the summer heat.. “I been taking care of myself since I was little, and my mama, too.”
“I know,” he says. “And you did a fine job of it. And now you look every inch the woman you are.”
A surge of pleasure fills my heart, and I stroke my sleek hair.
“So,” he says, shifting me on his lap so his cock is pushed right up against the softness of my bottom. “Then what did you do? You and Callan?”
Is this some kind of test? Am I going to get Callan in trouble? He said he’d promised something to Ethan. My lips part, but no words emerge.
“It’s okay, you can tell me,” Ethan says. His breathing quickens like he’s hot on the trail of prey. My own breathing feels shallow, and I can’t
seem to think straight because it feels so good being near him like this.
“Well,” I say, recalling the pleasure I felt when Callan kissed me. “He showed me how to use deodorant.”
“Yeah?” He plucks out another piece of rabbit and feeds it to me. “Suck on my fingers.”
I suck.
“Ah, fuck,” he says, his eyes going back in his head. “And then what happened?”
A flush of heat ignites my cheeks and neck. “And then he kissed me-the way Axel did, not the way Mama did.”
Ethan’s eyes narrow as the hardness beneath my bottom pushes up like it’s trying to escape being trapped between us. “Did he do anything else?”
I lift my hands to my breasts and touch each nipple through my shirt. “And then he touched me here.”
He shifts his hips beneath me. “Did it feel good?” “Yeah,” I say, a little breathless.
“Did he show you how to use the other things Warrick bought you?” His voice sounds husky and strained.
I shake my head. “No. He left.”
A few heartbeats of silence pass between us as Ethan studies me with a heated gaze.
“Get up,” he says with a lift of his chin. “It’s my turn.” “Your turn for what?” I ask, swallowing hard.
“You’ll see,” he says with a wicked grin, lifting me off his lap. My gaze lands on the significant bulge in his pants. He smirks when he catches me looking, then tugs at his jeans and stands. His fingers find the bulge, and he slowly strokes his fingers from the base to the top.
“See what you do to me?” he asks, a growl in his voice even as a teasing smile plays on his lips.
My pulse flutters in my throat, and I tear my eyes away to meet his gaze. “I did that?”
“Yes, Luna. You did that.” He takes my hand and pulls me closer. “Is that a good thing?”
“Want to feel?”
I nod mutely, letting him take my hand and press it to the thick ridge in his jeans. I curl my fingers around it as well as I can through the thick denim, staring down at it.
Suddenly, he pulls my hand away and drags me through the house to the bathroom. “Where’s that bag of shit you got?” he asks.