Page 60 of Unless It's You
“I’m never letting you leave my bedroom,” he growls.
“I don’twantto ever leave your bedroom,” I respond. I’m not sure I can even walk at this point, and definitely not with him still inside me. “But should I go? Don’t you have things to do?”
“No rugby this afternoon.” He rolls to his side, head resting on his elbow, abs and tattoos on display.
“Other plans?”
“No. You shouldn’t go, Stella Hart. You should stay. Please stay with me.”
I bite my lip, desperately attempting to ignore the fiery trail his finger is leaving as it slowly moves up my leg. I should want to bolt. Get out of here. We had sex—twice—so that should hold me over for the next six months, shouldn’t it? Why do I want to stay? Why doeshewant me to stay?
“Thank you for today,” I blurt out.
He quirks a smile. “I usually don’t get thanked for sex like that.”
I roll my eyes and push him in the shoulder. He doesn’t move, just lets out a half laugh.
“For Skye, not for sex.” Although I’m thankingsomeonefor those orgasms, even if not out loud.
His face settles into a serious expression. “It’s no problem,” he says, and I wait for him to say more, because I know something’s brewing there. But he doesn’t, so I don’t push.
I leavethe next morning after a long kiss at Ethan’s flat door.
The smile on my face refuses to dissipate, and when I glance back, Ethan’s leaning against his doorframe, hands in his pockets, looking every bit the hot romantic lead. And when I push out his building door into the warm, glorious London summer day, my lips still swollen from our goodbye kisses, I’m already doubting what just happened inside those walls. I can’t believe I stayed the night with him.
I was already worried about the feelings I’m developing for Ethan, but that sex? It literally sends waves through my body thinking about it. Was that a one-night stand? There was no follow-up, no next steps, noI’ll text you later.
I push back doubt and stride down the street, sliding into the Uber waiting to take me to my flat. None of thatmatters right now. The only next step I need to be thinking of is finishing the bucket list. I’m out of the country for a shoot for two nights starting tomorrow, so I need to make sure I have everything covered with the list.
And that means talking to Ben for real. Time to respond to his text. If I’m honest, I really want to get that over with.
After that, I can let myself fall into Ethan Fraser.
24
ETHAN
Wednesday, 24 July
Icannot think about anything but Stella, which is a problem as I’m two blocks away from The Boar and The Bear, the pub near Ben’s flat where I’m meeting him for a drink.
I can’t get her soft moans out of my head. Her naked body wrapped in my sheets. The way her bare arse felt under my hands. I don’t remember the last time I had a woman stay at my flat. I never want them to. I’d rather send them on their way rather than see the regret in the morning light. Or just go to their place so I can make an escape on my terms.
But waking up with Stella yesterday morning? Kissing her shoulder, pressing up against her back... I could get used to that.
She booked movers for the flat and will be in Newcastle to help me through it. I was going to pretend it’s not happening, block the landlord’s number, and try to never think about Mum’s flat again. But Stella’s helping me through it.
And that look in her eyes as she suggested we write a bucket list from my mum? I had to shut that down as fast as possible becauseit was too much for me to handle. The woman sees me. Or at least, she’s trying to.
I almost stumble stepping off a curb to cross the wet London street. I pull my hoodie down over my forehead and slow my pace, needing more time to work through this.
No one ever thinks that much about me. Women I’ve dated and slept with only see me as some dark, troubled bloke. Even Helen.
I finally responded to her persistent messages and calls, which I hadn’t done since I saw her in Newcastle two and a half weeks ago. I chickened out of calling her, but I texted her that we were only going to be friends. My interest in being anything other than that to her has disappeared completely. I can’t pretend with her while this thing I have for Stella is raging.
But Stella and Helen have one thing in common: at some point in their lives, both chose Ben after they’d already chosen me. I’d best remember that. So why does it feel different with Stella this time? I wanted to see her so badly last night, but she was leaving early this morning to go out of town for a two-day meeting with a client in Switzerland.
Bloody hell.I’m losing complete control of this situation. I’velostcontrol. I duck under the pub awning and push back my hood before entering the sparsely crowded bar and scanning the room for my best friend.
