Sure, the feminist voice in the back of my head quirks an eyebrow and asks, Girlfriend, did you really need a man to feel better about yourself? But I don’t view Ethan as my savior. He’s more like the really handsome guy who gave me a ride out of my pity party.
In this fantasy, though, we’re riding a horse, and Ethan is shirtless and sweaty.
It’s my fantasy. Don’t judge.
I’m staring up at the dark ceiling, running my fingers through his thick hair, all the while ignoring how turned on I’m getting.
It’s hard not to with his warm breath brushing over my nipple and that massive redwood jutting against my leg.
The hot shower and sex relaxed me into a boneless state, but I jerked awake a few minutes ago, afraid Ethan had let me sleep in and the kids would find me in his bed.
I watch the clock, all of a sudden anxious about what happens when it goes off. You can never tell what sex is going to do a couple’s dynamic. I’m laughing to myself, thinking about some of Viv’s morning-afters.
Once, she woke up in a guy’s bed, realized he never washed his sheets because they smelled like dirty feet, and she raced out of there, never to give him the time of day again.
On an impulse, I turn my head and take a whiff of Ethan’s pillow.
Yum. Clean man and dryer sheets.
When the alarm goes off, I smile at the growly sound that rumbles through him. He leans over and smacks the clock into silence and then pulls me back to him, fitting my back to his chest.
“I haven’t slept that well in years.” His voice, thick with sleep, sends another wave of chills down my arms.
“You hardly slept.” Maybe four hours?
“I go for quality, not quantity.”
I laugh and arch my back against the erection pressing against my ass. “That’s a shame. I was about to ask if you wanted a quickie before work, but I know you must be exhausted.”
He makes a thoughtful noise as though we’re debating global warming. “It’s possible you might be able to persuade me as to the benefits of a quickie. I’m not that tired.”
Smiling, I close my eyes when his big hand kneads my breast. “You do have a stressful job, and morning quickies are like taking your vitamins.”
“Are you suggesting that since vitamins are daily, quickies should be too?” His hips flex against mine, slowly driving me crazy.
“We do want you to be healthy, right?”
“Yes, health first.”
He’s nibbling on my shoulder when I fit him between my thighs so his length runs flat against my core. “I’m a big advocate of health. Big, huge advocate.”
“Christ, you’re wet.” He groans appreciatively and nuzzles my neck.
“We slept naked with your face pressed to my tits, and your morning wood’s been saluting me for twenty minutes, so yeah, I’m ready to go.”
He snickers, and I’m smiling, thinking this has to be the best morning after ever.
A few minutes later, after reaching for a condom, he slides into me from behind and reaches down to rub my clit. I’m half ready to sing a hallelujah chorus from how good he makes me feel.
I go off in an embarrassingly short amount of time.
I’m throbbing around him when he grunts, “Holy shit. Did you just come?”
“That’s why it’s called a quickie.” Though, to be honest, I’m stunned it took all of sixty seconds to get to O-Town.
“Goddamn, that’s the hottest thing ever.” His hips buck faster, and I ignore my soreness and tighten my legs to make it extra snug for him. “Oh, fuck. What are you doing? That feels too good.”
I toss my arm behind me and fist his hair, arching my back to send him deeper. “That’s the point. Wanna make the taco a happy place for you.”
“Shit. Don’t make me laugh.” He’s swelling and jerking inside me and laughing at the same time.
We stay connected for a few minutes, catching our breath and snuggling close. A quiet contentedness fills me from head to toe.
Then he whispers, “You’re the best time I’ve ever had.”
I feel the exact same way.
Ethan
“Why are you smiling so much today?”
I shrug like I haven’t a clue what Logan’s talking about and try to focus on the bills in front of me.
“Nah, don’t give me that. Hmm.” He rubs his chin like he has wisdom to spare and looks me over. “Let’s see. You didn’t yell at me for being late or accidentally spilling coffee on your desk. And I caught you whistling this morning.” A smirk spreads on his face. “If you ask me, you look like a man who finally got laid.”
“Good thing I didn’t ask.”
That smirk widens. “And you didn’t deny it.”
“What are we, in high school? You wanna compare dick sizes now? We got shit to do. Stop being an ass and get to work.”
He snorts. “We both know I’d win in the dick compartment.”
“In your pea-head dreams, bro.” Laughing, I shake my head and reach for a pen on my messy desk.
A soft knock on the door makes me look up. Tori peeks in my office, and I have to force myself to not charge toward her and pin her to the wall for a kiss. “Hey, honey. What’s up?”
She gives me one of those smiles that sends prickles of heat all over my body. “Just wondering if y’all wanted some dinner. I know you’re waiting for that client, but I made some stew. I can bring it in here if you want.”
God, this woman.
Logan taps a pencil on the desk. “Actually, can you come in here a sec? I wanna ask a favor.”
Sighing, I sit back in my chair, wary of whatever harebrained idea my brother’s concocted.
“Sure.” She smiles hesitantly and sits in one of the chairs opposite my desk, next to my brother.
He motions toward the kitchen. “Joey’s still here, right?”
She nods, and he darts out of the room for a second and then returns, settling back into the chair. “Joey’s gonna watch the kids for a sec. Okay, so you see this mess?” He waves at the mountain of paperwork in front of me and the files behind me, stacked in precarious piles on the cabinet. “Think you can help us get organized in here?”
What the fuck? “Logan, really? What did we just talk about the other day?” I specifically told him he’s not allowed to ask her to do any more around here.
He jabs a finger on a pile of bills. “I said I wouldn’t give her more work on her current salary, and I’m not. I mean, not really. Hear me out.”
Turning back to Tori, he breaks out one of his flirty smiles that makes me want to punch him in his pretty face. “I was thinking that Ethan and I are great with the horses but shitty with organizing all of this, and we really need to get our act together before that court date this week. I’ve gathered our tax returns and supporting docs for our attorney, but we’ve been so overwhelmed with that and our clients, I’m afraid we’re gonna miss paying one of our vendors or a tax bill or the vet. Who knows? We have a million things we’re not on top of right now, and I generally leave all of this to Ethan, but he’s working at max capacity right now.”
Internally, I cringe, because he’s right. If I’m being honest, I could cut out the few hours of baseball Tori and I watch. Except, fuck, when will I ever get a break? Even after enjoying a few innings, I head back to the barn to get all the horses to bed if I haven’t yet. Yes, even horses get tucked in too. Some require blinders. Others might need blankets if it’s raining. All of them like a little soothing talk. A few scratches behind the ear. Some TLC.