Page 68 of Unless It's You
27
ETHAN
I’m not sure I’ll ever be enough for Stella, but tonight I’ll at least try to impress her with the one dish I know I can do well: shepherd’s pie. I put the final mashed potato layer on top of the meat and vegetables, then a sprinkling of shredded fresh parmesan. The flat already smells delicious from searing the minced lamb and vegetables. I probably should’ve made some kind of side dish, but it’s too late now, so I slide the baking dish into the oven.
Colin’s out, staying at his girlfriend’s for the night. He took care of the kittens and asked me to check on them later. My insides swirl with thoughts of a night alone with Stella. Maybe she’ll tell me about her plans with Ben tomorrow night.
But what if she doesn’t? With Stella—with any woman—I’ll always suspect she’s about to cast me aside for a bloke like my best friend. A golden boy. Bright and happy, oozing success and stability.
I will always wonder if she’s going to choose Ben.
Fuck. I shake my head, dispersing the cloud of darkness that’s always resting on my shoulders. Seeing her at the office this morning proved that when I’m around her, nothing else matters.I wanted to do more than grope her arse in that conference room, and had it not been for those voices... she might’ve let me. Heat washes over me and my cock presses against my jeans. I lean against the counter, head down, trying to calm my body.
A knock startles me. I yank the door open and drink in the sight of Stella Hart. She changed after work, keeping the heels and jeans but throwing on a low-cut cotton tank top, and my eyes linger on the swell of her breasts. She bites her bottom lip, shifts her passenger bag on her shoulder, and blinks her beautiful eyes, smiling. At me.
“Hey.” She lifts her nose in the air and sniffs. “Smells amazing.”
“Dinner will be ready in twenty. Come in.” I step back so she can enter my flat, and as soon as she shakes the bag off, I close the gap between us and slide my hands around her waist. But unlike this morning, we aren’t at the office, and we don’t have a potential audience. I shove the door shut and push her arms up and around my neck. I savor her body pressed up against mine.
“We can do a lot in twenty minutes.” Stella caresses the back of my neck.
“Now it’s more like nineteen.”
“I have faith in us.” Stella pulls my head down toward hers, crashing our lips together, like two writhing snakes desperate for each other. The room spins, and her hands are fumbling with the button on my jeans. I push down one of the straps of her bra and tank top, releasing her soft breast which I immediately cup in my hand, rubbing her nipple in circles with my thumb. She’s managed to unzip my jeans and free my cock, already engorged with need for her, and she slips a hand around me.
“Fuck, Stella,” I growl.
Stella pulls back and looks at me with wide, hooded eyes, biting her lip. “Now we have seventeen minutes, so let’s move it along.”
“Easily doable.” I nod my head to the family room. “Couch.Now. Take off your jeans, because god knows I can’t peel those off you.”
Stella grins and backs slowly toward the couch, unbuttoning her jeans and wiggling out of them a little with each step. By the time she’s there, her legs are bare and her underwear askew on her hips, her one breast still exposed, and damn, I could stare at her all day. She’s perfect. She slips her underwear down her body, and I stalk toward her, easily lifting her up. She knows exactly what to do and wraps her legs around my waist, wiggling against me.
“Fuck me,” I whisper. Stella fits exactly just right, and I lower us onto the couch, pausing just above her.
Her lips are parted and her eyes closed, but she opens them when I remain still.
“What’s wrong, rugby dude? I’m sure we only have fourteen minutes now. Maybe twelve.”
I actively block out all the reasons I shouldn’t be here with Stella. And without those reasons, the emotions I feel are overwhelming.
I’m falling, falling, falling.
I don’t know where I’m going to land, but there’s no going back.
I’m in too deep now.
“Your phone,”Stella calls from the couch.
“Ignore it.” I walk back from the kitchen with Stella’s refilled wine glass and another beer for me, ignoring the dishes piled in the sink. That’s tomorrow’s problem. As is any phone call—there’s literally no one in the world I need to hear from more than I need to be present with Stella.
When I sink down next to her, she’s got a funny look on her face.
“It was Helen.”
I nod. “She didn’t react particularly well when I told her I just wanted to be friends.” I pull on Stella’s legs, sliding them onto my lap as she lounges, gently massaging her right foot.
Helen had responded to my text saying we could be casual, that she could come visit me down in London, that maybe we could just see where this goes. I told her no firmly one time, then again, then stopped responding two days ago. She told me she’d convince me I’m wrong. But there is no chance Helen is going to win my heart. Now I need to give her time to come to terms with that.
