It Started with a Snap by Piper James

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ember

You would think after everything we did last night and again this afternoon, I’d have gotten my fill of Ethan Perry. But as I sat in my apartment after work, attempting to watch television, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

He’d turned out to be so much more than I ever could’ve expected. He was attentive and considerate, generous, and funny. As many times as we’d been thrown together over the last year, I never suspected that underneath that calm, cool, and collected exterior, there was a charmer with a quick wit and a dirty mind.

And in the bedroom… Holy fuck, was he hot. He had the ability to make me come again and again, even when I was wrung out and exhausted and sure I’d need at least twelve hours to recover. But no, one touch from him and I was fucking drenched and ready to go.

Hell, he didn’t even have to touch me. All he had to do was look at me with that serious, alpha-male expression and order me to be wet, and the floodgates would open. I never in a million years thought I’d be into that kind of thing—I’d been turned off by it more than once in my past—but with Ethan, it was different. I wanted to please him, and found that in doing so, it brought my own pleasure to new heights.

Fuck, the look in his eyes alone when I called him sir nearly made me come on the spot. That was why I kept doing it—to see that fire. The pure light of possession as he made me his in every way.

It was terrifying, how fast I was becoming addicted to him. And that terror, in itself, was yet another draw.

I’d never felt this way about anyone, and I wanted to keep moving forward. I wanted to get to know him inside and out, figure out what made him tick, and show him every one of my own facets.

And, of course, I wanted more of the sex. I was only human.

Giving up on my show, I clicked off the T.V. and picked up my phone. Pulling up my texting app, I tapped out a message to Ethan.

Me: Hey, how’s it going?

Lame. But I knew he’d planned to spend the afternoon with Dakota and Noah, hearing all about their trip, and I didn’t want to interrupt his visit with my own neediness. I rolled my eyes at myself.

When did I become such a stage-five clinger?

Ethan: Hey, you. I’m good. Just got back to the house.

Me: Have you eaten?

Ethan: No, and I’m starving.

Me: Want to go out to dinner?

Ethan: Isn’t it supposed to be me asking you out?

Me: Don’t be sexist. It’s not the nineteen-fifties, you know.

Ethan: Wouldn’t dream of it. Yes, Miss Moore, I would love to go out to dinner with you.

Me: Great. I’ll pick you up in half an hour.

Ethan: I can come get you…

Me: Sexist…

Ethan: It has nothing to do with gender. My truck is bigger and more comfortable.

Me: But mine has a bench seat.

Ethan: See you in a half-hour.

Me: Great! And if you ask me nicely, I’ll even let you drive.

I chuckled as I tossed my phone to the bed and searched my closet for something to wear. I had every intention of letting him drive. I wanted to sit beside him and hold his hand, and I doubted his big frame would fit in the undersized middle seat. Even if he’d be willing to try it, he’d look ridiculous and probably be really uncomfortable.

A half an hour later, we were headed to Oakley to get some Mexican food at Antonio’s. Ethan was behind the wheel with one arm thrown over my shoulders as I sat tucked into his side. My fingers tangled with his up near my shoulder, and my left hand rested on his thigh.

I was wearing a short, flowy dress the same color as my eyes, and Ethan was wearing a pair of dress slacks with a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. We looked really good together, and I felt a strange sense of pride as we walked into the restaurant, hand-in-hand.

We drank margaritas and snacked on chips and salsa as we waited for our entrees to arrive. We talked about our childhoods and our high school years. Ethan told me about his college experience, and I told him all about how I dropped out and opened the boutique with my inheritance after my father passed away.

I was afraid he might judge me for not finishing my degree, but instead, he called me brave. He told me how he always did what was expected of him, whether from his parents, his brothers, or even himself. That he really was happy where he’d ended up, but sometimes he wished he’d taken a risk—struck out to backpack alone across Europe or rent a boat and sail out into open waters.

“It’s not too late, you know. You could still do that,” I said, taking a bite of the enchiladas the waiter just dropped off.

“I know,” he said, staring into my eyes, “but I don’t feel much like leaving these days. I’m happy right here.”

My mouth turned up into a grin, but before I could respond, a voice rang out through the speaker system. “It’s Saturday night, ladies and gentleman. You know what that means…karaoke in the bar area starts in fifteen minutes.”

My eyes widened with excitement. “Oh, karaoke. Hurry up and finish so we can head to the bar.”

“Uh, I hope you don’t expect me to sing,” he said, picking up one of his beef tacos and taking a bite.

“Of course, I do! Have you ever tried it? It’s so much fun.”

“I don’t know, Ember,” he said. “I don’t think it’s really my thing.”

“Come on,” I pleaded. “One song, and I’ll even sing with you. We can do a duet.”

He looked a little green around the gills, but just as I was about to let him off the hook, he nodded.

“Really?” I asked, bouncing in my chair a little.

“If it’ll make you happy, I’m more than willing to humiliate myself in front of a room full of strangers.”

“Oh, come on, fraidy-pants, it’s not going to be that bad,” I chided.

“We’ll see,” he breathed.

By the time we finished our dinner and paid the tab, the KJ was singing the opening song of the night. As we walked into the bar to find a table, I looked around before sliding my hand into Ethan’s.

“See,” I said loud enough so he’d hear me over the music. “There’s only like four people in here.”

He nodded and pulled out a chair for me at a small, round, table-for-two along the wall. A waitress brought us two glasses of ice water, and we ordered a couple of beers. When the KJ finished his song, I hopped up and raced over, meeting him by the computer system that controlled the song selection, volume, and key of the music. I put in my name and Ethan’s, and picked a popular duet I’d heard Ethan hum to in the truck the day we went to the carnival.

When I joined him back at the table, he was sipping on his beer and staring at me with an arched brow. I told him the song I picked, and he nodded.

“Yeah, I know that one,” he said, then tilted his head. “It’s not too late, you know, we can still back out so I don’t embarrass you.”

“Impossible,” I said. “I know I’m not a great singer, but I love it. It’s about having fun, not impressing a room full of strangers.”

I took a long swig from my beer, then startled when I heard our names over the loud speakers. I looked at Ethan, and he nodded.

“I guess we’re up first,” he said.

“You ready?” I asked, grinning as I climbed to my feet.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, taking my hand and leading me up onto the small stage.

We took the microphones from their stands, staring at the small screen in front of us as the opening strains to the song played through the speakers. I was up first, singing the verse with emotion as my gaze swiveled to meet Ethan’s. He was staring at me in awe, like he’d never heard more beautiful singing. I smiled and shook my head as my verse came to an end and the chorus started.

We sang that part together, but Ethan’s voice was quiet and he was holding the microphone too far away from his mouth. I motioned for him to lift it closer, and he closed his eyes before bringing it to his lips and belting out his solo verse.

My mouth fell open as the deep timbre of his voice vibrated through my body. He opened his eyes to stare into mine, and his expression turned serious, socking me right in the gut. He looked for all the world like he was singing the love song just for me, and his voice was sultry and perfect, setting my hormones on fire.

I somehow made it through the end of the song. The handful of people in the place burst into applause, but I ignored them as we put our microphones away and stepped off the stage. Luckily, Ethan had already paid for the beers we ordered, because I took his hand and dragged him from the bar, through the restaurant, and out to my truck.

He was peppering me with questions as we went, but I didn’t respond until we pulled to a halt by the driver’s side door. I pushed him back against it and leaned into him, rubbing my breasts over his chest as my hands slid into his hair.

“I didn’t think you could possibly get any sexier,” I purred, pressing my open mouth to the base of his neck bared by the open collar of his shirt, “but I was wrong.”

“I guess you liked my singing?” he said, the pitch of his voice rising like it was a question.

His hands found my ass, kneading it as I trailed kisses up his neck. When I reached his ear, I whispered words that told him how hot I was for him, and he pushed me away to fish the keys out of his pocket and unlock the door. I slid in first, settling in the middle as he climbed in behind the wheel.

“Drive,” I said, pulling my skirt up before shimmying out of my underwear.

“What are you—” he started as he pulled out of the Antonio’s parking lot.

His words cut off as I grabbed his hand and pushed it between my legs. He caught on quickly, pushing a long finger inside me as his thumb found my clit. I arched my back and moaned, as my left hand cupped his package, gently rubbing it over his pants.

The truck jerked left to right, and I opened my eyes to see him staring intently at the road as he panted through his mouth.

“Faster,” I breathed. “And don’t wreck.”

His finger pumped faster, making my nerve endings tingle. My legs started to shake as I lifted my hips, driving his finger further into me with each thrust. I chanted his name under my breath, feeling my orgasm building.

“I can’t…” Ethan said, pulling his hand away from me before jerking the wheel to the left.

The truck bumped over an old dirt trail that disappeared into a thick strand of woods. As soon as we were out of sight of the road, he slammed on the brakes and threw the truck into park. Leaping out, he held out his hand. As soon as I took it, he pulled me out, turned me around and pushed me down until my upper body was stretched across the seat.

I heard his zipper lower, then he lifted the back of my dress and drove into me with a shout.

“I’m sorry,” he said, thrusting into me again. “I just…couldn’t…take it…anymore.”

The words were punctuated by his cock slamming into me over and over, bringing me to new heights. His fingers gripped my hips, kneading the flesh as he drove into me again and again. My climax built until I was on the precipice, and with his next thrust, I fell over the edge.

Ethan’s shout joined mine as he came a second later, filling me up as his hips pushed forward and froze. The sounds of our panting breaths joined the crickets and the frogs, and soon, we were both laughing. Ethan pulled out of me, helping me straighten before spinning around and giving me the softest, sweetest kiss I’d ever received.

“That was amazing,” he said, rubbing his nose against mine. “You’re amazing.”

“You’re not so bad, yourself,” I teased, nipping at his bottom lip. “And FYI, if you’re ever feeling horny, all you have to do is sing.”

He smiled, releasing me to tuck himself away and do up his pants. “Is that all?”

I shrugged. “Or touch me. Or tell me. Or look at me like you’re looking at me right now.”

“Good to know,” he said, pressing his lips to mine in a short, sweet kiss. “Good to know.”