Page 139 of Playing for Keeps

“Nah, my patience has expired,” he said, pushing me back onto the couch.

The couch worked just fine for me, especially when Ethan straddled me, taking his T-shirt off in the process. Fuck… Ethan shirtless, looking at me with such hunger.

I surged up so I could kiss him again but he urgently grabbed at my T-shirt, so I obeyed and shucked it off.

Having our bare chests pressing against each other was worth that small sacrifice.

I flipped us over so I was on top, covering his body with mine, kissing him desperately, greedily. Trying to make up for the last few weeks when we hadn’t got to do this. Trying to banish that empty, hollow ache I’d had because I’d thought I might never get to touch Ethan like this again. And that made every touch urgent, every sensation enhanced.

I tugged at his pants and boxers and he lifted his hips slightly so I could get them down enough to release his cock. Then I pulled off my own pants and boxers.

The taste of his mouth, the feel of his cock pressed against mine. The way we justfittogether. As if every part of Ethan was designed to fit a part of me.

My plan was to get a hand between us and jack us off together, but as Ethan took my mouth in another blistering kiss, grinding our cocks together, I realized that just kissing and grinding was going to be enough to get me off. My cock throbbed and I felt my orgasm hurtling toward me.

I buried my face in the crook between Ethan’s neck and shoulder as I came. Ethan joined me moments after.

I lay on top of him, my breathing ragged, my pulse skittering. I could feel Ethan’s smooth skin touching mine, his heart fluttering against me.

“Move, you heffalump,” he said eventually, pushing at me.

I pulled back, scooping down to get my discarded T-shirt, cleaning up the mess between us.

Ethan shuffled over so we could lie side by side, his warm body pressing into mine.

I couldn’t stop touching him, running my hand up his side, across his shoulders and down his arms.

My fingers touched the scar on his wrist, that rough patch of skin that had replaced the raw wound. I picked up his hand and pressed my lips to the scar.

When I put his hand down, Ethan was watching me with a cautious gaze.

“What makes you think Char’s going to be okay with this?” he asked quietly.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to betray my sister. But Ethan deserved to know the truth.

“She said she knew how we felt about each other back when we were teenagers and she feels guilty she came between that.”

“Shit, really?”

I opened my eyes to see him blinking at me. “Yeah, I know.”

“I didn’t see that coming.”

“No, me neither. She wanted me to forgive her.”

I felt Ethan’s muscles tense.

After a few beats of silence, he asked “Did you forgive her?”

“Of course.”

He drew a circle on my back with his fingertips. “Do you forgive me too?” he whispered.

“We were dumb kids. I made mistakes as well.” I rolled over and stared at the ceiling, and Ethan rested his head on my chest. “I should have been brave enough to tell you how I felt. And I should never have run away.”

Ethan skimmed his hand over my side, down to my waist, cupping my hipbone.

“We’re here now,” he said finally.