“We told her stepbrother about the man,” Pam states, and my irritation grows as Jacob hadn’t mentioned him either. I rack my brain for any vague statement or probing question from my brother about a stranger in the area, but I have nothing. We mainly talked about my clothing line, the prospects, and my future. Jacob never hinted a madman was nearby.
“Ella,” the sheriff’s voice brings me back to the present. “This is where we need you to fill in the gaps.”
“I’ve never heard of Allen Novice before, but whoever that man was, I’ve had an experience with him in the past.” Leaning against Ethan, I begin my tale from start to recent finish.
The party in California. The man in the garden. The tool used on my face.
The fact he got away and found me here.
Ethan’s arm tightens around me, and I’m drained. “Okay, Bart, no more tonight.”
My eyes shift to Pam, who has tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Somehow, I assumed she knows my past from her closeness with Jacob, but perhaps hearing it all from me gave it some reality. The sheriff dismisses us, but Ethan doesn’t release me. I’m dead on my feet as we slide off the edge of the ambulance, and he picks me up again, cradling my body to his chest.
“What are you doing?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I just need you close,” he says, and I close my eyes, tucking my head back into his neck. I just need a minute. In the background, I hear Pam tell Ethan, “I’m calling Jacob.”
I want to tell her not to trouble him, but I can’t open my eyes. I relax against the warmth of Ethan and his fuzzy costume. It’s soft and comforting, which I hadn’t noticed earlier. Now, I nestle into it.
When I wake, we’re in the garage, and Ethan’s rousing me. “We’re home, princess.” Home. Has there ever really been such a thing for me? I remain in the SUV until Ethan comes to the passenger door. He holds it open for me, and I step out of the vehicle, but my knees buckle.
“Whoa.” Ethan catches me around the waist, slamming the door of the truck and wrapping an arm around my waist to guide me up two flights of stairs. Once we hit the landing, he picks me up again. We enter my bathroom, and he sets me on the closed toilet seat.
“Bath or shower?”
“Bed,” I mutter, but he makes a decision for me. He turns on the tub faucet and pulls the lever for the shower. We don’t speak as he moves around me. He brushes back my hair and holds my chin, examining my face.
“I’m fine,” I mutter although I’m anything but as my body trembles with shock. Ethan squats to remove my boots. Without making me stand, he does the best he can to remove my dress by slipping it up and over my head. He snaps off my bra, and I lift a little to help him remove my underwear. The cool seat cover is a welcome shock to my skin. None of his motions are sensual.
He wraps his arms around my back and guides me into the shower. I stand alone under the spray for mere seconds, letting the warmth cascades over the front of my body. Ethan quickly joins me. His arms close around my shoulders, and he lowers his face into my neck.
“You’re the only one I want.” It’s his explanation for earlier—the woman and the kiss. I nod, not wanting to speak of her. Not yet.
I close my eyes, tipping back my head for his shoulder. We stand like this a moment before Ethan releases one arm around me and reaches for the shampoo. He spins me so I can tip my hair under the spray, and then he turns me again, so my back faces him. He begins to wash my hair, taking his time to scrub over my head, massaging at my scalp. It’s heavenly and mind-numbing, which is just what I need.
I need him.
With large hands, he rubs soap between his palms and caresses my body, working the muscles at my back and shoulders. He lowers for my wrists, working tenderly at the raw skin.
“I’m so sorry this happened,” he mutters, lifting my red wrists and pressing kisses over the tenderness. He covers each of my hands, taking his time again to gently wash clean the scrapes and cuts from landing in the lane. By the time he finishes pampering me, I’m fluid like liquid. I just want to sleep.
Stepping out of the shower, he leads me out after him and pats me dry. Remaining naked, he guides me back to my bedroom where he tugs a T-shirt over my head and moves me to the bed.
“I’ll be right here,” he promises and reaches around me for the covers, pulling them back so I can slip under them. I fold onto the mattress and curl into the pillows. He drapes the blankets over me. A few minutes later, Ethan slips in behind me, and I turn to burrow into him, inhaling at his chest. He smells like me but also like him, and I want us to smell like one another. My hand lowers for him, curling around the bulge near his thigh. He’s put on a pair of boxer briefs.
“Ella,” he mutters. “You don’t need this.”
“I need you,” I say, pressing closer to him, resting my lips over his pec. I want you.
Combing his fingers through my wet locks, Ethan lets me play with his body, stroking his thick length and kissing his belly before tugging him free of his briefs and taking him in my mouth. I need this. I need the power it will wield over him, over me. It will give me some control.
“Princess,” he groans, and as much as I hate the nickname, I love it. I release him and lower his boxer briefs completely. I climb up his body and cover him with mine.
“I missed you,” I whisper to his lips as I wiggle and adjust until he’s between my thighs, braced at my core. The heat of him warms me in more places than he knows. My heart aches for him. I sit upright and hold out my arm, reaching for his hand.
“Hold my hand,” I quietly ask, and Ethan places his with mine, tethering us together.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, staring up at me. Taking my time, I ease over him, bringing him into me. I groan his name in relief at the fullness he offers me.
He sits up, startling me, and flips me to my back, never releasing my hand.
“I’m here for you,” he mutters, eyes focusing on mine. “I’m not letting anything hurt you ever again.”
It’s a promise he can’t keep, but I nod as tears fill my eyes. Ethan kisses my cheek and my forehead as a silent tear rolls to my ear.
“We can stop, baby,” He speaks softly as his voice strains, full of caution and concern, and maybe something more. Something I can only dare to dream.
No one will ever love you like me.
“Please,” I beg, a hand coming to his backside. “Don’t let me go. Make the haunting go away.”
“Never letting go.” He rocks forward, and I meet the slow thrusts, working my own hips to move us faster, draw him deeper, feel him completely. I press at him with a hand to his chest and a thrust of my hips. Sensing my need, Ethan allows me to roll us once more, placing myself back on top of him. Our bodies move as one, reminding me how very much he’s a part of me. He’s erasing the scars he can’t even see.
I’m whole when we’re connected as we are. I rock over him, and he moves with me until my body deliciously reacts to his. I break apart around him, lightly scraping my nails down his chest while he squeezes my other hand. Flipping us once more, my hand cups his firm ass, which clenches under my touch. He rolls his hips, surging into me with need before he spills into my depths. Collapsing over me, he twists us to our sides and just holds me against his chest with one hand on my lower back and another on the nape of my neck.