"Oh." She sounds surprised. "Then is it because you were thinking of your father's... request?"
I chuckle. "I'm pretty sure 'request' isn't the word."
"I don't think it's a bad idea, actually - you getting married," Stella says as she looks into my eyes. "You spend way too much time at work. You should have more for yourself. And it wouldn't be so bad to have someone to come home to, someone by your side to listen to your concerns and support you and cheer you up when you've had a bad day."
Someone like her.
"What about you?" I ask her. "Do you have any plans of getting married?"
"Someday," she answers with a tinge of hope in her voice.
At the same time, I see the fear in her eyes. Does she actually think she's not good enough for any man? Absurd.
"Any man would be a fool not to want you," I find myself saying.
Stella's eyes grow wide. Her cheeks turn red again. She looks away and grabs her glass of Scotch to swallow a few gulps. Then she sets it down and snorts.
"Then all men are fools," she grumbles. "None of them have even tried to kiss me."
Well, I'm not a fool. And I'm done being a coward.
I move closer to Stella so that I'm standing right next to her and look into her eyes. "Do you want me to?"
She draws a deep breath. I can see desire and sensibility battling behind her eyes. For a moment, I think the latter might win, but then she opens her mouth to let out a whisper.
"Yes."
Chapter Seven
Stella
I should have said no. It isn't right for Ethan to kiss me. But that wasn't his question. The question was if I wanted him to kiss me, which I did.
I've been wondering how it would feel to have his lips on mine since the night we met. For the past two years, I've been dreaming of it, imagining it. Yes, even masturbating to it.
And yet this is unlike anything I've ever imagined.
Ethan's lips are soft yet firm, like my favorite pillow. The moment they touch mine, my eyelids fall. They press against me gently, reverently, and my heart flutters. Excitement bubbles up in my veins. His lips keep going, over and over as he runs his fingers through my hair until I feel the rest of my defenses crumble. My mouth relaxes.
I kiss Ethan back tentatively. I don't know what I'm doing, after all. But Ethan clearly does. He traps my lower lip between both of his. Then I feel something warm and wet graze against my upper lip. I part my lips and push my tongue out just a little. It rubs against his and heat rushes all the way down to my toes.
Ethan's tongue enters my mouth and my head spins. I grip his waist. His fingers become entangled with my hair as he cradles the back of my head. His other hand caresses my arm over the sleeve of my robe. As his tongue rubs against mine, I feel myself begin to melt - my capacity for coherent thought, my breasts, my knees, my belly, the most secret part of me between my legs. It tingles like never before inside my panties. The silk becomes moist. I shudder and moan into Ethan's mouth.
He pulls away and I realize I've been holding my breath. I take a gulp of air only to lose it as Ethan kisses my ear.
He's not done?
His tongue traces the curves of my earlobe as his hand cups my jaw. It tickles and I draw in a sharp breath.
What is he doing? Is he trying to drive me crazy with his mouth?
He moves it to my neck, right above the collar of my robe. He plants a kiss right above my pulse and it starts to race. I wonder if he can feel it.
Does he have any idea what he's doing to me?
He drags his lips along the neckline of my robe. When they press against my cleavage, I go still. I'm not wearing a bra, so all Ethan has to do is tug on my robe a little and he can see my bare breasts. He can slip his hands in and touch them. And a part of me wants him to. My breasts are already swelling in anticipation. My nipples strain against cotton.
But Ethan doesn't touch them, nor does he take a peek at them. Instead, he kneels in front of me. My eyebrows arch.