Fuck, she feels so good.
My name crosses her lips—sharp and warning. “It’s…it’s going to be…” Her voice cracks as she stills, and I thrust upward, drawing out the release. Her mouth falls open as her eyes close, and I’m breathless with her beauty, watching pleasure dance along her face.
I clutch at her hips, moving her over me faster and driving into her deeper.
“Ella,” I shout before holding her in place. My lower back tightens, and my dick jolts. My eyes roll back, and the air turns hazy, dancing like the flicker of the candles earlier. My chest rises and falls. She’s taken my breath away.
“My cake will never top this,” I say, slowly catching my breath. Lifting my head, I glance up at her, her face still glowing, and there’s no food in the world that could fill me like her satisfied look. My stomach tightens. My heart thumps. I’m definitely in love with her.
+ + +
After one bite of cake and a shower, we fall into Ella’s bed, only I can’t sleep. She’s tucked into me, her forehead on my chest. Her legs entwine with mine, and I’m playing with the ends of her hair as I stare at the crazy, eerie mural on her wall. Eventually, I see the outlying image. A giant face stares back at me.
How does she sleep with all those people watching her?
My head turns for the mannequins near the window. She needs a studio. Being secluded in one room isn’t healthy. She needs space—a division between her work and her rest—but mostly, she needs those headless wire stands out of here. I feel watched, and I can’t imagine how she walked a catwalk or had countless pictures taken of her.
Slowly, I untangle myself from her and stand before the images. The moonlight outside illuminates the room enough I can make out the various eyes and cheeks. Chins and throats. I scan the images, uncertain what I’m looking for until I find the one.
The woman’s hair matches Ella’s though not as vibrant nor as long. The man next to her is an older version of Jacob.
“Everyone says I look like my mother,” Ella says behind me, and I flinch. I didn’t hear her move from the bed. “Most people would tell me I was prettier than her. I didn’t want to be more than her. I wanted her to love me.”
My head turns in Ella’s direction.
“She was my manager, but there’s nothing to manage when your star ends up like this.”
Ella’s gaze remains on the wall. “My father…Jacob’s dad, Nick…he wanted whatever made my mother happy. She was younger than him by sixteen years, but she’d been pretty, and he liked pretty, young things.” Her eyes meet mine, and I take her meaning. Then I shiver. “I didn’t have many friends over. He’d always hit on them.”
Ella sighs. “That meant many of his friends were like him, thinking they could speak to someone young and impressionable however they wished. A compliment, which was really a suggestion. A comment filled with innuendo.”
I stare at her, wondering once again about the life she’s lived and possibly understanding how sticking to this room gives her comfort. But it isn’t sane. She needs to get outside these four walls. She needs to interact with others. And she needs to know not all men are the same.
“They’d touch you in the slightest manner. A hand down the spine and then resting on your ass. An arm around your shoulders only to brush over the side of your breast.” Ella shudders, pulling the sheet tighter against her chest.
“Ella.” I swallow, afraid some man took it too far. She shakes her head at my unasked question.
“I was lucky. The attack on me could have been so much worse.” She exhales. “He wasn’t counting on the rain. A storm. While no one heard my screams, I was fortunate Jacob came outside to find me.”
“Jacob found you?” I hadn’t known this part of her story.
“He was at my parents’ house. He came to the party for me.”
I stare at her, wondering once again how they ended up here in Michigan.
“Does Jacob know who did this to you?” My eyes drift to her cheek.
“Everyone at the party checked off in the investigation.”
My eyes close, and I swallow back the next question. “Why was there a party?”
“It was my birthday.”
Holy shit.
I want to reach for her. I want to hold her to me and tell her none of it matters, but her eyes tell me I’ve lost her to memories and ghosts.
Tonight’s celebration is over.
Card 23: Hot Dogs
The correct topping depends where you live
[Ella]
Ethan wraps me back in his arms and returns me to bed, holding me against him the remainder of the night. Yesterday had been the two-year anniversary of what happened to me, yet Ethan had made it into a beautiful celebration. The way I felt when we were joined as one was indescribable, and I was so thankful he gave himself to me. He made me feel more beautiful than a thousand cameras and a million eyes on me.
In the morning, I wake alone, a little unsettled that he isn’t next to me. I would love to make love to him again. Instead, I head to the shower before sauntering down to the kitchen, where I find a note telling me he’s gone into town. Obviously, he hadn’t asked me to go with him, but I wonder why he left me without mentioning it last night. Perhaps he knows I would have said no to going anywhere, but I’d like to say yes. I’d like to say yes to more things with him. I like being near him, with him, and he’s making me see it’s okay to go outside the house.
I’m okay out there.
I return to my room and dawdle a bit, feeling restless and anxious. Ethan’s absence makes me more uncomfortable than I thought I’d be alone. It’s too quiet in the house when it never bothered me before. I hear every creak and crackle—the roar of the heater and a drip of water outside the window—and it unnerves me.
When the garage door clicks shut upon Ethan’s return, I race down the stairs, my belly fluttering with excitement to see him.
Be cool, I tell myself, but my fingers twitch as my feet thump along the steps. I’m ready to tackle Ethan by the time I reach the kitchen, and then I see his face.
“You’re going to New York?” He stands with his hands braced on the island while his head twists in my direction.
I stop at the edge of the counter. “I was going to tell you.” And I was. I just hadn’t yet. “How did you find out?”
“Does it matter?” he asks, keeping his gaze on me as his hands rest on the countertop. I break our stare first.
“Yes, it matters.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“I…” I just hadn’t. “Jacob will be in New York, and I’ve made appointments with a few fashion-connected friends and a couple of suppliers. The timing works to meet him and stay at his apartment in the city.”
Ethan shakes his head. “So you can go to New York City, but you can’t go to a simple party with me?” He’s referring to his sister’s Halloween party. I’d forgotten about the party as I’ve been pre-occupied with finalizing things for my trip—the trip I hadn’t mentioned to him.
“Sounds like a great time. Have fun without me.” His flippant, dismissive tone does not ease my nerves because he isn’t wrong. It will be a big deal to go to New York alone and face people I haven’t seen in a long time or those I haven’t met. I’d been toying with asking Ethan if he might like to come with me although it seemed like a big step, and I wasn’t certain of our relationship. Everything seems to be happening at once—making love and leaving.