he carried like a millstone around his neck seemed to fall away, leaving only the man, without his civility, without the trappings of modern society.
Now, in this moment, he was simply a man, and she was a woman—his woman. And she reveled in it, moving with him, against him. She felt she was drowning, not just in pleasure, in emotion. In the connection she felt with him. As if he was truly a part of her.
She felt whole, and she felt herself splintering into pieces at the same time, her orgasm rushing up, tangling with the tide of emotion that was crashing inside of her. Ethan stiffened above her, her name on his lips as he found his own release.
This time, it was her turn to hold him, his head resting on her chest, his breath cool on her sweat-slicked skin. Silence filled the room, but it wasn’t awkward. It made the air feel close, like it was holding them together. Keeping them cocooned, shielded from reality. At least for now.
She ran her fingers through his hair. She didn’t think she could ever get enough—not just of the amazing things he made her feel, but of what it was like simply to have him in her arms. To be in his.
She didn’t know how long they lay there. But finally Ethan sat up. “I should go take care of some things.”
He got out of bed and went into the bathroom, returning a few moments later and sliding back in beside her. He pulled her to him, his arms encircling her.
“I don’t know if there’s any music that can capture this,” she said, moving her fingertips over his chest.
“If anyone could write it, you could,” he said. “You told me earlier that it wasn’t my business who you’ve slept with, and if you still feel that way, that’s fine. But I’m going to ask anyway.”
“I’ll save you the trouble. No lovers. None besides music. Isn’t that a dramatic way to put it?”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Noelle.”
“Then don’t.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It can be. We’ll stick to the deal. We can have this, whatever it is, and then … and then we’ll both walk away with what we want. That’s simple right?” Even as she spoke the words, she knew they weren’t true.
“Sounds good.” And she could tell by his answer he knew it too.
Ethan just held Noelle, not even tempted to slip out of the room and head back to his condo. In fact, that idea was the opposite of appealing. Strange, since he was usually ready to do a runner by this point.
But Noelle was different. And not in the way men said women were different when they just wanted to get into their knickers. Different in a real, profound way. And not just because she’d been a virgin.
He was her first lover. That … well, that meant something. At thirty he was well past the age where he expected to run across a virgin. He’d even avoided them in high school, mostly by choosing to have sex with older women. He’d never really fancied the idea of being a corruptor of innocents. His life was just too … raw. He’d never had true innocence himself.
It was impossible when the cupboards in his kitchen had more prescription pills than they did food. Impossible when he overheard loud fights and sex between his parents every other day. Impossible when he simply felt invisible in his own home.
His upbringing had been privileged financially, but bankrupt in every other way.
But what had just happened between him and Noelle hadn’t seemed corrupt at all. Far from it. It had been the best sex of his life. And it had meant something. Had altered something in him.
He wasn’t sure if he liked that, but it was the truth.
It wouldn’t last. A fact that made his chest feel like it was filled with tiny shards of glass, evil and sharp, impossible to remove.
It couldn’t last. That was the one thing he was certain of. Because she would never be happy with him. His stomach suddenly felt too tight. It was very hard to breathe. It was a hard admission to make, but it was true.
He’d never managed to bring happiness to anyone in his life. There was no reason Noelle would be any different.
He would never be able to make her happy, not in the long term. He would ruin her.
No. That wouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t do that to her. They would have their affair, and they would both move on.
Even if there was a small, insidious part of himself that wished things could be different. They couldn’t be. And he would have to accept it.
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