Page 90 of A Certain Step
“Okay,” he responded, pausing again like he was looking for the next batch of words he wanted to say. “I, uhm. I bought condoms recently—not because I was expecting anything, but…but I wanted to have them just in case. They weren’t for anyone else, obviously. The ones I had were expired. I haven’t been with anyone since Michelle.”
And this was exactly why she wanted him—the transparency and the genuine, honeyed tenderness in how he looked out for her.
“Well, I’m glad past Ethan was looking out for future Ethan,” she acknowledged.
He took her hand, pressed a gentle kiss to the pulse point beating against her wrist, and then guided her to his bedroom.
She imagined the nerves would boil over inside her and spill into a spiral, but nothing out of the ordinary came, only passions parading through the thumping of her heart.
Willa could’ve never imagined how fiercely her love for Ethan could continue to expand.
Over the past few weeks, day and night, everything grew more substantial. It took all her might to keep the desires suspended inside of her without saying them aloud. She wanted to wait—hold on for a little while longer—to see if their currently secure bubble would burst and leave them confronted with the proof of their incompatibility.
She knew better, yet she was still catering to a small part of her that continued to worry about all the ways they could jeopardize their friendship.
But despite what she tried to control, she fell deeper and harder, like a cosmic explosion spreading and scattering.
She presumed she was ready shortly after they officially got together, particularly during the nights she spent away from his apartment, underneath her own covers, craving his touch in ways she’d never wanted from others.
He turned back to her in the center of his room. “Willa…” he started to say, then stopped and shut his eyes. His fingers glided unhurriedly along her arms. She waited for him to gather his thoughts—to say whatever it was he wanted to.
She lifted her hand to his hair, carding the soft strands.
Ethan inhaled and exhaled, opening his eyes back to her. He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t read—something mirroring awe and novelty, like how she must’ve appeared every time she marveled at nature’s latest spectacle: a flurrying snowfall, a multicolored sunrise, autumnal foliage dancing with the wind.
She drew her fingers to the side of his face and held him there, sliding her thumb back and forth.
He dragged his lips through his teeth and swallowed, pushing down what she presumed were nerves of some sort coiling inside. “I love you so much. I can’t mess this up; I need everything to be perfect for you.”
She traced along his cheekbones, up to his forehead. “You’re not going to mess this up. We’re good at being friends first. I love you with my whole heart, Ethan. I’ve never loved anyone or anything like I love you—that’s how I know it’ll be perfect. Because whatever happens, it’s you and me.”
She watched him swallow again, longing coursing through her own veins in response. She inched forward and kissed him, taking the reins to show him that she was ready for this—for every part of him. And she was afraid, undoubtedly, but she’d never felt safe enough to believe that her concerns and desires could co-exist in a place that felt oddly right.
His lips moved against hers hungrily, and she pressed her hand against his chest. The beat of his drumming heart caused everything in her to ease. The thoughts that once clouded her with torturous hesitations and, at times, utter disgust were now overflowing with reverential wishes.
Plus, she didn’t purposely match her bra and knickers so they would go unnoticed; she opted to bring a brand-new emerald lace set, knowing it marginally matched his preferred costume on her.
Ethan’s mouth trailed to her neck, stopping at the center of her throat with a ravenous groan that punctured deliciously straight through her. He kissed and licked, biting down attentively, eliciting a whimper from her mouth.
His lips were molten heat wherever they roamed. He kissed the three little moles along her collarbone, once, twice.
Music almost always played at the back of Willa’s head, and Ethan’s kisses steadily felt like the start of a perfect bridge, where everything sped up, and emotions were propelled to staggering heights, striking hard and fast.
She slid her fingers underneath his shirt, exploring the taut muscles of his frame and savoring the way they tensed to her touch. He lifted his mouth back up to hers and took her bottom lip with a forceful, searing tug. His fingers trailed across her shoulders, along her arms, then back down to her torso, wordlessly asking for permission to remove her top.
“No tiptoeing,” she reminded him. “I’m yours.”
He hummed. “Say that one more time.”
She kissed the tip of his nose, his cheekbones, his lips. “I’m yours. And you’remine,”she emphasized.
The dynamic groan that rumbled from him said a thousand words at once, emotions pronounced and profound. His hands dropped to the hem of her shirt, and he lifted it readily, touching her skin with the rising fabric. He tossed it to the floor and stared at her, his eyes flaming in wonder.
“You look like this is the first time you’re seeing this much skin on me. Did you forget the cut-out leather ensemble I come out in during ‘Forbidden Corridors’?”
“Respectfully, Wills, I stay very far away from ‘Forbidden Corridors’ because I’d be way too hard to come back out on stage for ‘The Letter.’ Plus, this is you. It’s different.” He dipped his head and kissed along the line of the lace.
Eagerly, he confessed. “I love this color on you.”
