They say once bitten…
Ethan is the handsome possessive bad boy that will stop at nothing to get what he wants, he just doesn’t realise – what he wants all.
Ada is in hiding and has no choice but to stay that way. She needs to find the one person who means the most to her, more than her next breath, more than life itself. If Ada is found and identified, she knows she will never get that chance. It’s not a life choice; this is self-preservation and she’s already lost too much to give up now.
For the first time since moving to the small coastal town, Ada feels isolated in her opinion of Ethan, the town’s favourite prodigal son. He is arrogant, cruel and rude to her. But, the first time ever, Ada is distracted by a man who seems to delight in teasing and playing a game Ada can’t afford to lose— a game the sassy heroine can’t even afford to play. The mystery of her past life is catching up on her. Can she keep far enough ahead of it before its too late?
I’m smart enough to know love like this doesn’t happen every day, so there’s no way anyone is taking that from me.”
“Get out of my apartment, Sky, before I do something you will regret.” My tone is serious enough, she narrows her eyes before they flash with an idea; never a good thing with Sky.
“You know Ethan, you don’t have to jack off in the show- er. I am more than happy to help you out with that.” Her eyes widen and drift to the stretch in the front of my jeans. She sucks in her bottom lip and I feel my cock twitch at the in- vitation, because however angry I am at her break-in, I have just witnessed a live porn show and my dick doesn’t give a shit how pissed I am. “We could all go and have some fun in the spare room–” Her voice is thick with lust and filth, and I am so fucking hard. I draw in a deeper breath. The last thing I need is more complications with Sky, even if my balls think otherwise. My voice is low but stern.
“Leave, Sky…Now!” I stand back as she scrambles for her clothing, which is scattered around the kitchen. The Dick Number Two men is already at the door when she spins with fury and venom in her eyes.
“You used to be such fun, Ethan; now you’re just anoth- er prick!” She roughly pulls her slip of a dress over her head, snatches her sandals and slams the door, but it’s a fire door, so it closes frustratingly slow. I let out an exhausted breath. I’m too tired to be dealing with this shit and now I have a hard- on from hell. Fan-fucking-tastic. I slump down on my sofa and unbuckle my belt, before I pull myself free, I think better of masturbating in the open plan living room when Sky still somehow has access. I don’t want to literally be caught with my dick in my hands. I kick my, jeans, underwear, and shoes off on my way to my bedroom, pulling my T-shirt over my head as I go.
The door handle seems stiff when I realise its locked. What the fuck! I shake the handle and yell,
“Open the fucking door!” I no longer contain my rage, not giving whoever has the audacity to lock themselves in my bedroom, time to comply with my demand. I step back and with one fierce kick I boot the door wide open. A sharp shrill scream competes with the sound of the cracking door frame and splintering wood.
Not what I was expecting. The trembling girl in front of me, her white knuckles fiercely gripping the handle, though her hold is wobbly, is weakly waving my baseball bat at me. I step forward and swipe it from her grasp. She yelps and jumps back against the wall. Her dark blue eyes are wide with ter- ror and I get a sudden pang in my chest that I’m causing her distress. I drop the bat and walk to my closet, all the while keeping my eyes fixed on her. She looks scared shitless, which is understandable. I guess I might look a little scared, if some strange naked guy crashed into my room. But this is my room and I’m not the stranger, she is. But yes, I’m naked and I need to fix that. I pick the first set of shorts I can find and slip them on. I can see her visibly relax and I like having done that.
“Who are you?” Her voice waivers, but she coughs and straightens her shoulders in a display of faux confidence. It makes me smile which seems to irritate her.
“My apartment, darling… I get to ask the questions.” My tone is clipped. Yeah, I can be irritated too. I have had way too little sleep and currently have a hard on that won’t go away. Her eyes keep dipping to take in the tent at my crotch, which honestly isn’t helping. “What are you doing in here? Taking a break from the performance?” She is almost naked herself. Her slim, bare legs peek below a skinny T-shirt that looks fa- miliar. It’s mine or at least used to belong to a girl I went to school with. She must have left it here when she visited from University. It has St. Andrews University blazoned across the front, and it’s far too small to fit me. So apart from my cloth- ing, she doesn’t appear to have anything else on; certainly not a bra. Interesting.
“What?” Her shocked tone piqued with insult, halts my wayward thoughts.
“Are you taking a break from the show I just broke up?”
I speak slowly and I know my patronising tone is causing the fury to flash in her crystal blue eyes. I tip my head toward the other room, to highlight my point and the scene of the crime.
“Oh absolutely! The locked door is all part of my fore- play!” She crosses her arms tightly around her chest, which just lifts her breasts that little bit higher.
“It’s effective.” My face fails to hide my amusement. “Rude to point.” I fail again to hold in a laugh, but then I’m not really trying. This is the most fun I have had in a long time. She in- stantly cups the offending nipples with her hands and flashes bright red.
“Oh, my God! Sky said you were cool, but you’re actually an arsehole!” Her haughty tone, however, is my breaking point. I stride over to her and grab her elbow. She yelps at my tight grip and I easily drag her from my room. There is practically nothing to her–except delicate, soft skin under my fingertips, masses of unruly, dark chestnut waves, and fierce piercing blue eyes. I open the front door and unceremoniously deposit her outside on the landing in her bare feet. I’m closing the door–
“Wait!” She screeches. I hold the door and regard her coolly through the gap. “My clothes…all my clothes are in your washing machine.”
“Why?” I am confused, but she looks like I have just asked the dumbest question.
“I used you laundry facilities. Sky said I could. I’ll pay for the washing tablet, but I need my clothes. You have them all ….” She bites her words out and I fight back a grin. She is in no position to be snarky with me.
“Not all your clothes.” I casually glance at the T-shirt she has borrowed from one of my drawers.
Her eyes dip to where my gaze is focused and she tugs at
the material for emphasis. “This is yours…I just used it while mine was washing. Everything I own is in your machine!” She is fighting her frustration. I can see the open hostility in her glare, and the way she is biting her cheek to physically stop herself from speaking. She is just itching to rip my fucking bollocks off.
“You’re right…that is my T-shirt.” I cup my hand in the universal sign language of ‘hand it over’. The shock on her face is priceless.
“What? No!” She shouts out indignantly. Couple that with the haughty look and her air of stubborn arrogance, just brings out the best in me. “My T-shirt. You either give it to me, or I will take it from you.” I grin and she takes a step back, then crosses her arms once more. It’s cute, her tiny frame trying to emanate any kind of barrier.
“You wouldn’t?” Her voice is a whisper and her eyes are wide like saucers–deep blue mesmerising saucers. I step up to her, but don’t say a single word. I silently wait…and wait. Her eyes narrow and she huffs. “You’re an arsehole, you know that?” I wait some more… “Fine!” She steps away, creating enough space to roughly pull the T-shirt from her body before flinging it with some considerable force at my face. Not the first time today I catch the missile aimed at my head, but this time I hold it. She has cupped her breasts. I was right, no bra. My eyes flick down her body and my mouth slides into the smuggest smile I can manage.
“No…no, please.” Her breathy pleas go straight to my cock, which would be caged in a pair of loose fitted boxer shorts but she is wearing them. Well, she is wearing a pair of them at least. Even with the tight elasticated waist, the over- sized underwear hangs deliciously from her slender hips. Her delicate curves are no match for the might of gravity pulling the shorts further down her body exposing even more skin.
“Oh dear,” I say solemnly, but with no remorse. “Those would be mine as well, I believe hmmm?” I tap my finger light- ly on my chin, as if pondering this great conundrum. “What to do? What to do?”
“Please, Ethan.” My name on her lips sounds…strange… familiar…sexy. I like it and fuck, I could get used to her plead- ing.
“I’m nothing, if I’m not a gentleman.” I offer, but just as she steps forward misunderstanding the limits of my chivalry, I push the door closed in her face. I let her keep the pants.